Cerca:nervo

Jamie Jones and Lee Foss welcome Brazilian newcomer Cassi to Hot Creations as he unveils his two-track EP, ‘Request’.

A new name quickly catching a lot of attention within the tech house world, Brazilian DJ/producer Cassiano Salbego, aka Cassi, only released his debut record via Amine Edge & DANCE’s CUFF Records in August of last year. However, the months since have seen the exciting South American drop a sprinkling of follow-ups and downloads to begin to showcase his sound and style, with a growing list of supporters added by the day. Next up, he gets set for his biggest release to date, making his debut appearance on James Jones and Lee Foss’ internationally renowned label Hot Creations with two new originals across ‘Request’.

Opening with rolling drums, slinking bass groove and hooky warped vocals, arpeggiated lead synths soon take hold of ‘Request’ as the track builds into a cascading surge of energy, while ‘Nervousinha’ is a stripped back yet impactful cut that sees further vox snippers paired with trippy and resonant melodies.

A compilation of Minimal Wave from around the world ‘79-‘85. »The Hidden Tapes« features rare, unreleased, and licensed tracks from as far as Japan and the former Yugoslavia. Most of the bands on this compilation recorded on 4-track tape in their bedroom studios while two of them went further to collaborate by sending tapes through the mail. The sounds on this record range from raw proto-industrial to naive danceable Belgradian new wave, to filmic synthesizer music to more complex, vocal-driven melodic synthpop.

I was dancing when I was out, I was dancing when I was in. Is it strange to dance so late? Is it strange to dance so soon? Cosmic dancers always ball. Dancing with themselves, dancing space away. Right into the smallest hole a human brain can create: the inner cosmos, a psychedelic region, where time gets space and space turns to haze.

Berlin based producer TM Solver is such a kind of cosmic dancer. He has danced late. And so soon. Since 2008 he released yearly one, sometimes two albums via the German Berlin School dedicated label Syngate and its experimental subdivision Luna. Intensely meandering synthesizer journey music, that is pirouetting on inner universes, genuinely crafted in the tradition of Berlin School and Krautrock. You can catch the unearthly nuances of Can and the spaciously swinging psychedelic corners of Amon Dül, Embryo, Tangerine Dream, or Klaus Schulze. As TM Solver has been a lover of analog synthesizers for almost 30 years, all pulsates on analogue sound orbs under the zigzagging guidance of machines like Moog Prodegy, Korg MS20 and GRP A4, as well as state-of-the-art systems as ASM Hydrasynth and Korg Wavestate. When he got in touch with the Berlin club scene and all its propelling grooves in 2006, a new rhythmic universe joined his vast musical space of sound latitudes. “Tinkering around with sound structures is my thing. Leading the listener into a combination of music and sound spaces.“ he reveals on his emotive musical art. How affecting it works, is now displayed with four epic compositions for R.i.O., Berlin Wedding’s label of novel ways for caved rhythmic patterns. Grooving between 90 to 240 BPM, they offer a vast variety of emotional landscapes, slowing down, rolling up, drifting into genuinely layered tonality magic. Headspace music for vigilant wanderers. Utterly psychedelic and yet so clear. His R.i.O. debut “Subtraktiv Additiv“ comes with five additional remixes, fashioned by R.i.O. conspirator Benedikt Frey, Amsterdam based DJ and producer Mayo, “Die Orakel” magician O-Wells from Frankfurt, Siamese Twin Records co-runner Sunju Hargun, and the versatile club and beyond production duo Red Axes. They all respect TM Solver’s analogue zones and pitch them into the 115 to 130 BPM districts, while transcending his absorbing synth compositions into the world of nervous acid-laden ambient, slow-mo techno, industrial bass, post-trance, and all that hallucinogenic echo house. Nine subtle energy vibrations, epic and full of countless facets, shaped to turn on, tune in, and drop out.

Metropolitan Soul Museum are proud to present the first vinyl release on their Kulture Galerie label. The collection includes 4 liquid and deep tracks coming from 4 different artists: the wonderfully talented Gene Tellem, the power duo Abdul Raeva, NYC’ own Alien D and force of nature Nesa Azadikhah. Don’t sleep on it.

Freundschaft ist die treibende Kraft hinter THESE BEASTS. Das Sludgy Noise Rock Trio aus Chicago landete während der Arbeit an ihrem Debütalbum "Cares, Wills, Wants" plötzlich in einem Limbus. Die Einsamkeit der Lockdowns, der Verlust von Freunden und Todesfälle in der Familie - all das spiegelt sich in den dunklen, starken Emotionen wie Frustration, Trauer und Wut wider, von denen Texte und Musik der neuen Songs geprägt sind. Mit "Cares, Wills, Wants" liefern THESE BEASTS genau das kraftvolle Debütalbum ab, das sich ihre stetig wachsende Anhängerschar aufgrund der vielversprechenden ersten beiden EPs "Salvor" (2016) und "These Beasts" (2019) erhofft hat. Die Band wurde von drei leicht nerdigen Freunden im Jahr 2015 in Chicago ins Leben gerufen, die durch ihre gemeinsame Liebe zu harter, lauter Gitarrenmusik und inspiriert durch Acts wie die Lokalmatadoren THE JESUS LIZARD einen festen Bund geschlossen haben. Nach ihrer Gründung begannen THESE BEASTS sofort örtlich aufzutreten. Ihr bald erworbener Ruf als heftiger Live-Act führte das Trio quer durch die Vereinigten Staaten und brachte ihnen einen Platz auf dem renommierten Day of Doom Fest in New York ein. "Cares, Wills, Wants" ist eine emotionale Achterbahnfahrt in der Gestalt eines Sludgy Noise Rock Albums. THESE BEASTS laden ihre alten und neuen Freunde ein, sich der kathartischen Seelenreise anzuschließen und Heilung durch harte Musik mit Hirn zu erfahren. Dreht den Regler hoch und lasst die Platte krachen!

Freundschaft ist die treibende Kraft hinter THESE BEASTS. Das Sludgy Noise Rock Trio aus Chicago landete während der Arbeit an ihrem Debütalbum "Cares, Wills, Wants" plötzlich in einem Limbus. Die Einsamkeit der Lockdowns, der Verlust von Freunden und Todesfälle in der Familie - all das spiegelt sich in den dunklen, starken Emotionen wie Frustration, Trauer und Wut wider, von denen Texte und Musik der neuen Songs geprägt sind. Mit "Cares, Wills, Wants" liefern THESE BEASTS genau das kraftvolle Debütalbum ab, das sich ihre stetig wachsende Anhängerschar aufgrund der vielversprechenden ersten beiden EPs "Salvor" (2016) und "These Beasts" (2019) erhofft hat. Die Band wurde von drei leicht nerdigen Freunden im Jahr 2015 in Chicago ins Leben gerufen, die durch ihre gemeinsame Liebe zu harter, lauter Gitarrenmusik und inspiriert durch Acts wie die Lokalmatadoren THE JESUS LIZARD einen festen Bund geschlossen haben. Nach ihrer Gründung begannen THESE BEASTS sofort örtlich aufzutreten. Ihr bald erworbener Ruf als heftiger Live-Act führte das Trio quer durch die Vereinigten Staaten und brachte ihnen einen Platz auf dem renommierten Day of Doom Fest in New York ein. "Cares, Wills, Wants" ist eine emotionale Achterbahnfahrt in der Gestalt eines Sludgy Noise Rock Albums. THESE BEASTS laden ihre alten und neuen Freunde ein, sich der kathartischen Seelenreise anzuschließen und Heilung durch harte Musik mit Hirn zu erfahren. Dreht den Regler hoch und lasst die Platte krachen!

The fifth transmission on BRUK comes from Chewlie, a breakthrough artist from Switzerland adept at sculpting tense, sharply defined atmospheres with eerie amounts of space and dreadful amounts of bass. Following up on her 2022 Creature LP for YUKU, this eight-track deep dive explores nervous hallways of dislocated rhythm with a UK soundsystem attitude and a subtle but striking approach to sound design.

In contrast with the strident melodic tones of Creature, Chewlie demonstrates her versatility as a sonic artist (alongside her established work as a graphic designer). Understated moodiness is the key here, resulting in powerful heads-down immersion heaters with stand-out moments to make the floor fall in line amidst meditative, patient pauses in between. In the field of leftfield dubwise club music, Chewlie's voice strikes out with purpose and poise, slotting into the firmament of BRUK as another natural misfit in the many-sided bassweight landscape.

Die neuseeländische Musikerin und Produzentin Princess Chelsea präsentiert ihr kommendes "nervous breakdown album" "Everything Is Going To Be Alright", das im pastoralen Aotearoa Neuseeland aufgenommen wurde und eine Art Trostspender ist. Es sind keine traurigen Lieder, sondern die beiden Eröffnungs- und Schlusstracks erzählen von Chelseas Genesung und sind als kathartischer Hörgenuss für alle gedacht, die es brauchen könnten. "If you feel you want to die / trust me darling / it just takes time", singt sie in "Time". In der Zwischenzeit zeigen Chelseas sorgfältig geschichtete Gesangsmelodien über Mellotron-Flöten und Harfe, verwoben mit Live-Cello und Violine, ihre Fähigkeiten als Arrangeurin und Produzentin. Princess Chelseas cineastischer, verträumter Pop hat sich in elf Jahren, fünf Alben, einer EP und elf Singles weiterentwickelt. Ihre Vortragsweise und ihr Songwriting zeichnen sich dadurch aus, dass sie eine fast naive Ernsthaftigkeit mit zynischem, augenzwinkerndem Witz und akustischen Funken überlagert. Ihr Grunge-Girlgroup-Song "I Love My Boyfriend" aus dem Jahr 2018 und ihr von Nancy & Lee inspiriertes "Cigarette Duet" aus dem Jahr 2011 haben ihren Bekanntheitsgrad durch den Einfluss einer neuen TikTok-Generation in das öffentliche Bewusstsein gerückt. Für dieses Album wurden Chelseas Instrumentalarrangements von ihrer Live-Band inspiriert, die die Schlafzimmerdemoaufnahmen mit einem überraschenden Sound interpretiert hat. Es klingt anders, als man vielleicht erwarten würde. "The Forest" wurde live in einem Take mit Chelsea und der gesamten Band im beliebten neuseeländischen "The Lab" aufgenommen und zeigt dynamische Gitarrenwände und eine leidenschaftliche Gesangsperformance. Es ist eine markante Abweichung von ihrem bisherigen Schaffen und stellt eine weitere Einführung in das dar, was sie seit der Veröffentlichung der verträumten und doch düsteren Single "Everything is Going To Be Alright" im Februar als ihr "Gitarrenalbum" bezeichnet hat. Chelseas Fähigkeiten als Arrangeurin und Produzentin kommen auf dem Album voll zur Geltung, aber oft in Form von komplizierten Gitarrenarrangements, die an The Cars und die Breeders ("Forever is a Charm") und an klassische neuseeländische Flying Nun-Bands der 80er und 90er Jahre ("Love is More") erinnern. Obwohl das Album eine deutliche musikalische Entwicklung darstellt, sind ihre Markenzeichen immer noch da - klassische 80er Jahre Synths (Yamaha DX7, Roland D-50), vielschichtige Melodien, orchestrale Instrumente, verträumter Gesang, verdrehter Pop, der oft Vergleiche mit Julee Cruise oder Enya gezogen hat.

Standard Black Vinyl LP w/ Foil stamped jacket, printed inner sleeves + DL card. Legendary Tacoma, Washington mathcore/hardcore/metal band Botch's debut full-length American Nervoso was originally recorded in 1998, eventually becoming one of the most ground-breaking records during a pivotal shift in heavy music. Now, the band's debut album is set to be re-issued on Sargent House 25 years after its original release. The album features white-hot guitar action, scathing vocals, sweet bass moves, and torrential drums, smashing existing precepts of hardcore and redefining both the word and the music for a generation of kids and grizzled vets alike. Bassist Brian Cook, guitarist David Knudson, drummer Tim Latona, and vocalist Dave Verellen formed Botch in 1993, eventually becoming one of the most significant bands of their time. Their final show was June 15, 2002, the same day as the release of their final EP, An Anthology of Dead Ends. The members would go on to play in These Arms Are Snakes, Minus the Bear, and Russian Circles, among others, with acclaim for the band coming mostly post-breakup. Over 20 years since they played their final show, Botch are reuniting for select dates in the Pacific Northwest in February 2023. 25th anniversary re-issue of Botch's critically lauded debut album. Botch have their first live performances in over 20 years for early 2023. Botch have been included on "Most Influential lists" by outlets like Decibel, Rock Sound, Alternative Press, A.V. club + more

2023 Repress

The primer of techno was barely dry or England already had its own variant of the genre: UK techno. Original Man by British producer Dave Angel is perhaps the perfect example of what that variant sounded like, back then. If only you knew where to find it. The single was released in 1993 on a record label that has long since ceased to exist. Fortunately, Utrecht-based record label SoHaSo made this transverse techno-soul classic available again, in a punchy remaster. With its juxtaposed rhythm programming and orchestral arrangements, Original Man still lives up to its title, even if it is 30 years later. On the flip you'll find Quarter Pounder. With its nervous hi-hats and high paced rhythms, this seems like the perfect soundtrack for a highway chase between two roadhouses. As a bonus, SoHaSo has supplemented the vinyl version of this EP with a rare Dave Angel track which also was released back in 1993 on French dance label FNAC. It's called 4th Symphony and ticks all the right techno boxes: strings, hihats and a melancholic melody. If you wanna learn more about UK techno, you might as well start with this wonderful re-release.

Der besondere Charakter jedes von Prokofieffs Violinkonzerten scheint in seiner Entstehungszeit begründet zu sein:
Das erste, nervös und ikonoklastisch, fiel mit der Russischen Revolution zusammen; das zweite, nüchterner und lyrischer, stammt aus dem Jahr 1935, als Prokofieff eine endgültige Rückkehr in sein Heimatland vorbereitete.
Die beiden Konzerte wurden im Abstand von neunzehn Jahren geschrieben - ein Zeitraum, der fast vollständig mit den Jahren übereinstimmt, die Prokofieff im "Exil" verbrachte, zunächst in den USA und dann in Frankreich.

Nr. 1 komponierte er kurz vor seiner Abreise aus Russland, Nr. 2 nur wenige Monate vor seiner Rückkehr in die Sowjetunion. Es ist daher kaum verwunderlich, dass sich die beiden Werke so stark voneinander unterscheiden. Perlman entschied sich für die Einspielung dieser beiden Konzerte mit Gennady Rozhdestvensky, dessen Erfahrung mit diesem Repertoire er zweifellos für unübertroffen hielt.

Nun erscheinen diese Einspielungen auf LP.

An absolute, hard-charging funk hammer from the Dap-Kings - an incredible instrumental co-written and co-produced by Dapper Bosco Mann and Kenny Dope! If "Nervous Like Me" has a title that reflects some kind of apprehension, the track is anything but! It's simply pummeling - with a rhythm that kicks out from some stealth bongo and rolling trap that build into some playful guitar and bass response until the horns crash and boom! The beats on the flip isolate the funky drums, providing a sizzling beat track.

An absolute, hard-charging funk hammer from the Dap-Kings - an incredible instrumental co-written and co-produced by Dapper Bosco Mann and Kenny Dope! If "Nervous Like Me" has a title that reflects some kind of apprehension, the track is anything but! It's simply pummeling - with a rhythm that kicks out from some stealth bongo and rolling trap that build into some playful guitar and bass response until the horns crash and boom! The beats on the flip isolate the funky drums, providing a sizzling beat track.

Over the last half decade, the music collective Constant Smiles has produced a prolific output of acclaimed music, culminating in their forthcoming record Kenneth Anger, masterfully brought to life by engineer Jonathan Schenke (Parquet Courts, Liars, Dougie Pool). The group is known most recently for their much-praised debut album for Sacred Bones records, Paragons, an emotionally resonant offering of indie folk masterpieces that all confront the internal ways we process our struggles with intimacies, addiction and humanity produced by Ben Greenberg. Constant Smiles' primary singer/songwriter Ben Jones uses the creative process as a tool for working through deeply transformative periods in his life. The band's indie folk music lays bare this internal process, but on Kenneth Anger, the music shifts to synth pop and looks externally, examining creativity, community, ritual, and their place in the healing process. Ritual takes a primary role in the eponymous Kenneth Anger. Not only is auteur Kenneth Anger himself known for his sensorial depictions of ritual, Jones often used the films as a silent visual back drop during his song writing sessions, a ritual that grounded the creation of the album. And while the director's use of saturated color inspired the warm `80s synth style production, the director's trailblazing spirit of authenticity also pushed Jones through his most vulnerable expression to date. While the narrative undertones of the songs deal with fear and isolation and anxiety, the songs themselves were created through the healing process of ritual, and enriched with collaboration, community and trust. The resulting music produces a balm that can genuinely recalibrate the nervous system. The listener journeys through the depths of every track while being lifted and guided by the music's transformative, hypnotic power and this illustrates one of the foundational accomplishments of the album. Just as a Kenneth Anger film explores the underbelly of the unconscious through often soothing visuals, Kenneth Anger the album conjures the underworld into a series of synth pop classics.

For this uniquely personal retrospective spread over twelve vinyl discs, Sven Väth takes us back to the early days of his DJ career. On What I Used To Play we meet great pioneers of electronic music, gifted percussionists, obscure wave bands, and innovative producers of a bygone 'new electronic' era. Rough beats and irresistible grooves from the identification stage of house, techno, and acid remind us not just how far electronic music has evolved over the past four decades, but how great it was to dance to EBM, techno, and house for the very first time.

If there is one protagonist of the electronic music scene who has remained curious, innovative and at the very cutting edge of music for over four decades, it's Sven Väth. His multi-layered artist albums and Sound of the Season mix compilations have been defining the genre for over two decades, and even today, he is constantly on the lookout for the next top tune to add to the highlights of his next set. At least, that's the case when he's not producing them himself as an artist or remixer. "Actually, it's always been part of my DNA to think ahead," and nothing had been further from his mind than looking back at his past, but when in spring of 2020 the international DJ circuit had to be scaled down to virtually zero, the 'restless traveler' suddenly had time. Time to stop and reflect on "how it actually was back then, at the very beginning of my career..."

"It was a great trip and with every track, beautiful memories came flooding back".
In the London apartment, he had just moved into, Sven has set up a "little music room", where he cocooned himself for several days, "to look way back for the first time and review my musical journey through the eighties, so to speak."

The interim result was six thematically oriented playlists with a grand total of 120 tracks from 'early 80s' to 'Balearic late 80s', together with excursions into afrobeat, European new wave, and EBM sounds and a few epochal techno/house tracks from the USA in between. From these 'Best of Sven Väth's favorites', the project What I Used To Play crystallized. Sven remembers how the Cocoon team reacted to his proposal: "They found the idea of making a compilation out of it MEGA from the beginning and everyone said 'Sven, go for it', but then, of course, the work really started, namely, to clear the rights and to get clean sounding masters of the up to 40-year-old tracks. There was also disappointment, of course. We couldn't clear certain titles because the rights holders in the USA had fallen out with each other or simply disappeared from the scene. In short, it wasn't easy, but now I can safely say we got the most important tracks."

Finally, after two years of research, curation, design, and administrative fine-tuning, the "little retrospective" from 1981 to 1990 is available. The exquisitely packaged, and three-kilo heavy box set is not only physically impressive, WIUTP is also the definitive record of Sven Väth's musical development. On each of the twenty-four sides of vinyl, you can trace track by track, what influenced him during which phase, and how he took off as a DJ from his parents' Queen's Pub straight into the spotlight at Dorian Gray. There and at Vogue (later OMEN), Sven became the style-defining player in the DJ booth that he still is today.




1981 - 1990: Future Sounds of Now

In the early eighties, the crowd in clubs like Vogue and Dorian Gray danced to what nowadays we call 'dance classics' - mainly disco, funk, soul, and chart pop. It was up to a new generation of DJs, including Sven Väth, the youngest protagonist in the Rhine-Main area at the time, to create their own club-ready music mix. Good new tracks and potential floor-fillers were rarities that had to be sought out and found, in order to prove oneself worthy.
Without MP3s, internet streaming, or other digital download possibilities, music didn't just gravitate to the DJ, instead, it had to be tracked down. In well-stocked record stores in Frankfurt and Wiesbaden or even in Amsterdam, London, or New York, Sven and friends sourced the material for countless magical nights. On WIUTP we can follow Sven's very personal journey through this wild, innovative era in which synth-pop, funk, hip-hop, and disco were successively replaced as 'club music' by house, techno, acid, and breakbeat. By the end of the decade, it was clear to see that these once exotic 'fringe' phenomena would soon become 'mass' phenomena.



Early 80s

Dirty Talk by the Italian-American duo Klein & M.B.O. represents the most innovative phase of the Italo-disco genre in the early eighties like no other track. Mario Boncaldo (I) and Tony Carrasco relied entirely on the original synthetic drum and percussion sounds of the Roland TR-808, coupled with the raunchy vocals of Rossana Casale and guitar accents of Davide Piatto. Of course, other tracks from this period were also influential in style, most notably Unit by Logic System, which worked as the perfect soundtrack to the laser lighting system at the legendary Dorian Gray club. With stomping beats and robotic rap interludes, Bostich by Yello also belongs on Sven's eternal playlist - after all, it caught the attention of Afrikaa Bambaataa, who invited the Swiss duo to perform at the Roxy in New York in 1983.



EBM Wave - Mid 80s

From today's point of view, the almost ten-minute-long, downtempo track Giant by Matt Johnson's band project The The, would probably not be considered an obvious club classic. However, a closer (re)listen reveals the rhythmic intricacies of the percussion overdubs by JG Thirlwell (aka Foetus) on Johnson's composition, and it becomes clear why this exceptional piece of music is one of Sven's absolute favorites. Other classics from this phase include Kaw-Liga by the mysterious The Residents, the hypnotic-synthetic Our Darkness by Anne Clark (and David Harrow), and last but not least, the somber, monotonous anthem Where Are You? by 16Bit, one of Sven Väth's projects together with Michael Münzing, Luca Anzilotti from 1986.



US House - Late 80s

You certainly can't talk about Chicago house without mentioning Frankie Knuckles. The resident DJ at the Warehouse not only gave the name to an entire genre, but also produced epochal floor fillers on the Trax label like the timeless Your Love, sung (and moaned) by Jamie Principle. Acid house protagonists Phuture also hail from Chicago, and on We Are Phuture (also released on Trax) we hear the chirping acid sounds of the legendary Roland TB-303 in full effect. Another featured classic is No UFO's by Detroit's Model 500 aka Juan Atkins, who is rightly considered the 'Godfather of Techno' even if the genre-defining track from 1985 still breathes with the spirit of hip-hop and electro from the first breakdance era.





Afrobeat

Le Serpent, by Algerian-born Abdelmadjid Guemguem, is a track that sounds completely different from everything else on WIUTP. Made in 1978, it's a monumental, rousing groove created without bass or synths, just with five congas! Even though Guem sadly passed away in 2021, his immortal, acoustic beats are understood all over the world and will continue to enrich many thousands of DJ sets for years to come. Another classic that not only Sven appreciates beyond measure is Hugh Masekela's Don't Go Lose it, Baby. In addition to being one of the most important jazz pioneers, the trumpeter and freedom fighter from Johannesburg was very experimental, integrating electronic sounds into his music in later years, in a similar vein to Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock. Dutch jazz pianist Jasper van't Hof's afrobeat project Pili Pili has also aged well. The trance-like, almost sixteen-minute-long track of the same name, manages to fill a whole side on the seventh of twelve vinyl discs in the WIUTP box.



UK-US-Euro - Late 80s

Time for a change of scene, in the truest sense of the word, and from a musical perspective, this section is like landing on another planet. First up is Andrew Weatherall's classic remix of Primal Scream's Loaded, featuring the iconic Peter Fonda sample (lifted from the 1966 biker film Wild Angels) that came to personify the mood triggered by the British Second Summer of Love in the late eighties: "We wanna be free to do what we wanna do, and we wanna get loaded...". This period also saw the emergence of M/A/R/R/S whose only single, 1987's Pump Up The Volume, became a club classic with support from DJ legend CJ Mackintosh. In this most eclectic of sections, we also encounter New York house and reggae producer Bobby Konders and his seminal Nervous Acid.



Balearic - Late 80s

Those who know him, know that Sven had already lost his heart to the 'magic island' of Ibiza as a teenager, so with that in mind, the WIUTP project couldn't end without a Balearic chapter. Inspired by Manuel Göttsching's E2-E4, the immortal, eponymously titled Sueño Latino belongs in there without question. Equally popular on the island was, and still is Break 4 Love by Raze, which thinking about it, would also fit perfectly into the house chapter. Last, but not least, there's an overdue reunion with Sven Väth himself, in his role as frontman of the successful Frankfurt trio OFF. Together with Michael Münzing and Luca Anzilotti (later of Snap!) this 'Organization For Fun' created the off-the-wall club hit Electric Salsa in 1986 which incidentally turned into an international chart smash, putting Sven in the enviable position of having to decide between pop stardom and a DJ career. Well, we all know how that decision turned out and the rest, as they say, is history. A not insignificant part of his story is What I Used To Play. Enjoy!

Louie Vega is launching a trio of Double Pack 12” releases that includes special unreleased versions of select titles from the Expansions In The NYC album project. Each package also features unique customized art by celebrated artist Andrew Thiele who also created the art for the album jacket as well. This package spotlights four of the very memorable vocalists on the album: namely Lisa Fischer (The Star Of A Story), Cindy Mizelle and Audrey Wheeler (Love Has No Time Or Place and Janine Sugah Lyrics Lyons (A Place Where We Can All Be Free).

Ralph Falcon last collaborated with Victoria Wilson James on the Number 1 Billboard charting tune “I Need Someone.”

With its distinctively hypnotic, dark pulsating beat and haunting vocal, “I Need Someone” went from being a Club Space Miami anthem to a worldwide club hit. Now Ralph is back with Victoria Wilson James on a new song that is destined for greatness but with even more potential given the unending worldwide demand for fresh house sounds.

“Fade Away” has all the unique sonic elements that Ralph Falcon fans have come to expect over the years. Heavy Kick drums combined with synth sounds that you wont find in any software program. Ralph’s sounds are creations that only he could produce. This vinyl release gets a uniquely international remix treatment. Included are a remix from Ralph’s Murk partner Oscar G, rising Dutch producer star Dennis Quin, and emerging French producer star Ténéré.

Louie Vega is launching a trio of Double Pack 12” releases that includes special unreleased versions of select titles from the Expansions In The NYC album project. Each package also features unique customized art by celebrated artist Andrew Thiele who also created the art for the album jacket as well. This package is a tribute to two of Louie’s musical heroes, namely the late Patrick Adams and Larry Levan. Legendary producer Patrick Adams was the writer of Chimi and Atmosphere Strut, and equally legendary DJ Larry Levan was instrumental in breaking Bernard Fowler’s early releases with The Peech Boys at The Paradise Garage before Bernard was catapulted into worldwide fame as one of the featured back up singers on tour and in the studio for the Rolling Stones. Chimi and Atmosphere Strut also feature collaborations with Louie’s renowned Elements of Life band and New York based House and Hip Hop DJ / Producer extraordinaire DJ Spinna.

James Curd presents the fourth instalment from his already essential PRONTO label, delivering a hyper-infectious original alongside a bumper pack of top-drawer remixes on ‘I Am One, I Am Many’.

First up, Curd’s original version of ‘I Am One, I Am Many’ bursts from the blocks with its lively tempo and feel-good groove. Built around an empowering spoken word vocal and pitched somewhere in the fertile soil between disco and house, the funk-laden jam rolls over thick bass, dramatic strings and jaunty guitar licks, with irresistible horn motifs lifting spirits as the dance-ready arrangement unfolds.

Next, renegade UK collective Adelphi Music Factory maintain the uncompromising approach that has seen them garner universal tastemaker heat thanks to impactful releases on Shall Not Fade, Nervous, and their own Beat Factory label. Adding weight to the drums, they stay true to the intention of the original, retaining the track’s key parts while tastefully reforming them as an unfettered main room banger.

The UK remix flavour extends into the third iteration, with notorious party-starters Make A Dance continuing their club-focused manifesto with their brilliantly atmospheric revision. Here, M.A.D. carry on the fine work they’ve been manifesting on their eponymous label, constructing an almost entirely new track around the iconic vocal. A contagious organ hook drives the energy as saucer-eyed sweeps and off-kilter synths meander across the panorama, the sturdy house rhythm expertly powering the kinetically charged groove.

Tel Aviv’s Nenor rounds off the remixes, the esteemed producer and DJ showing the kind of sparkling form that has seen his work appear on benchmark labels including Mahogani, Strictly Rhythm, Heist, and Razor N Tape among many others. Transposing the track into deeper territory, Nenor strips back the instrumentation to serve a mesmerising heads-down roller. The vocal soars over brooding bass and syncopated chords, with loose rhythms and subtle textures combining to hypnotic effect.

Louie Vega is launching a trio of Double Pack 12” releases that includes special unreleased versions of select titles from the Expansions In The NYC album project. Each package also features unique customized art by celebrated artist Andrew Thiele who also created the art for the album package as well. Joy Universal and Igobolo (Feelin’ Love) spotlight the profoundly soulful and musical energy that emerges when Louie collaborates with two of the stars of the House Music community namely Josh Milan and Joe Claussell.

Employing a vast array of advanced vocal and instrumental techniques, Broken Gargoyles is arguably Galas" most intellectually, sonically and viscerally formidable work to date. The album finds the visionary artist deftly probing the weaving, warping transformation on the nervous systems of her post-traumatic soldiers and dying diseas ed. Composed in 2020 during the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, the first presentation of Broken Gargoyles featured verses by German poet Georg Heym, "Das Fieberspital" and "Die Dämonen der Stadt." The work was finalized in 2020 in collaboration with the artist and sound designer Daniel Neumann. In "Das Fieberspital" Heym describes the horrific state of people suffering from yellow fever who live in paralyzing fear of death and swirling delirium owing to their brutal treatment and isolation in medical wards in early 20th-century Germany. "Die Dämonen der Stadt" also addresses such grim portents of World War I; in this poem, the god Baal observes (like a gargoyle) a town from a rooftop of a city block at nighttime and lets a street burn down during dawn. The final incarnation of the work was played as a sound installation at the Kapellen Leprosarium (Leper"s Sanctuary) in Hanover, Germany

Amman-based Toumba announces ‘Rosefinch’, his first EP on wax, and the debut release from London-based record label Hypnic Jerks.
Key info about the artist:
His next release will be on Hessle Audio and then Nervous Horizons. His first release was a digital EP through All Centre.
Toumba is one of the creative minds behind MNFA, Jordan's most important underground music venue. He serves there as a booker and curator, bringing the likes of TSVI, Giant Swan and Parrish Smith to the venue.
He is also anationally respected artist and holds a residency at the MMAG Foundation in Amman. The foundation works with a selection of the most gifted artists in the Levant. By sponsoring Toumba's ongoing artistic practice, MMAG has furthered his research into Levantine music, which he synthesises with avant garde and electronic music.
He is a resident on Movement Radio in Athens and formerly Ma3azef Radio, with guests including Ben UFO, aya and Gabber Eleganza.
About the release:
Integrates elements from Jordanian and Levantine folk music into his left-leaning, low-end heavy club sounds.
The EP is named after the national bird of Jordan.

nother all time DEAD MOON classic. The band really hit their stride on this one! The best rock band of the '90s and 2000s kicks out some of their finest rockers and ballads. Features all time greats like "Diamonds in the Rough," "Say It Isn't So," "Running out of Time," "Somewhere Far Away" and "Windows of Time." A must have for any fan of the band and rock music in general. A1 Diamonds In The Rough A2 Say It Isn't So A3 I Won't Be The One A4 Can't Let Go A5 Running Out Of Time B1 Psychodelic Nightmare B2 Area 51 B3 Somewhere Far Away B4 I'm Not Afraid B5 Windows Of Time

Originally released in 2004, El Ten Eleven’s self-titled LP has been embraced by fans of many genres - from math rock, to jazz, to lo-fi hip-hop. The duo's sound is sharply evocative in mood and feeling, yet simultaneously abstract and meditative. Back in print on Gold Vinyl. Brimming with breezy melodies, breakneck percussion, & electronic flourishes. Back in print, on Gold Vinyl. 181.8 k Spotify Listeners, 7.5 Million Streams. Recommended If You Like: Do Make Say Think, Explosions in the Sky, Ratatat, The Album Leaf, Mogwai, Positive/uplifting instrumental loopage ‘n riffage. Track Listing: My Only Swerving / Sorry About Your Irony / Lorge / 1969 Central Nervous Piston / Thinking Loudly / Fanshawe / Connie / Bye Mom

MUSTA presents an elaborate six track EP project, titled 'Tamburi
Parlanti' which translates to 'Talking Drums' in English. The body of
work marks a turning point in his career to make more than electronic
music, and delves into a plethora of live music and field recordings
recorded for the EP, ranging from polyrhythmic tribal drum-patterns to
Afro-funk bass chords, congas and jazz-keyboard, played by local
musicians as well as himself.

Musta's love for music began during his 11 years spent living in the
Dominican Republic. This encounter of Latin rhythms started the musical
genre contamination that to this day distinguishes his productions. In
this EP, like the rest of his releases, the music is diverse, tribal and
hypnotic. Respectful of the past yet constantly innovative. This love of
the past and future has led him to release edits and originals on staple
labels such as Nervous Records, Samosa Records.

Music aside the EP artwork has significant meaning, the mask shown is
that of the ancient Mamuthone icon of Sardinian folklore which goes back
further than 2000 years, defined as a representation of the collective
soul of Sardinia, the ancient ritual of the Mamuthone creatures is that
of a rhythmic dance where 12 of the creatures dance together,
representing the 12 months of the year. With this theme, Musta aims to
connect the dots of this pastime tradition into the EP, reflecting it
visually as well as through the music itself.

"Tamburi Parlanti EP is a collection of songs that I've made myself
around the world, recording and collaborating with various musicians of
many different nationalities. The music reflects my musical path in
recent years which draws strong inspiration from afro-funk and latin
disco from the 70s and 80s. My intent is to create music that presents a
journey between the hottest Latin sounds, over to more African disco
rhythms.

Timmy Regisford’s discography reads like a virtual timeline in the evolution of House. He’s been a central force since the genre first began in shaping the sound and helping it to become the worldwide cultural phenomenon it is today. Recently inspired by the afro-centric musical movements that have become increasing popular, he has gone back into the lab and created a collection of songs that are destined to move the genre once again.

Highlights of this essential double pack vinyl collection include “Good Morning,” which is an homage to his legendary Shelter parties that always last deep into the morning hours, “Hamballla” which features an inspired vocal performance from future star Toshi and the memorable “Hotel Cali” amongst many others.

With I was born by the sea, Richie Culver brings to a close a period of intense introspection and emotional reckoning with a debut album that serves as both an optimistic statement of intent and a final glance back at the painful places it explores. Following recent work with Blackhaine and Pavel Milyakov, I was born by the sea picks up where Culver’s EP for Italian label Superpang, Post Traumatic Fantasy, leaves off, painting an unabashed portrait of contemporary malaise, detailing a life lived behind closed doors, pinned under the crushing weight of austerity, sapped of the strength to do anything other than gaze out to sea and all the grey possibilities it represents. Where Post Traumatic Fantasy saw Culver returning to his hometown of Hull after a period spent entangled in London’s relentless sprawl, his first full length project reaches further back to his formative years working in a caravan factory and going to raves in and among Hull’s outskirts. Unspooling like a fever dream, I was born by the sea is the anxious clutter of a racing mind spoken clearly, a stark reflection on how it feels to have too many ideas and too much time to act on them.

Though unquestionably a snapshot of a time of significant difficulty, Culver reflects on this period with tender empathy and pitch-black humour, stitching together unflinching observations from England’s neglected corners, ‘there’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops,’ and devastating vignettes of everyday struggle, ‘tears on the tin foil’, with surreal depictions of industrial grit, ‘skimming stones in a small pond by the slaughterhouse’. His DIY approach to production stretches the rough sinew that connects these fragments of memory, a process he describes as using a paired back collection of synths and drum machines to the best of his ability, ‘but to the least of their capabilities,’ wringing out visceral sound with self-taught urgency. During the album’s most impressionistic passages it’s as though Culver has transposed past internal turmoil into powerfully resonant noise, the Sisyphean sonics of ‘Create A Lifestyle Around Your Problems’, which evokes in its concrète clatter and MRI machine barrage the sound of making the same mistake again and again, or the stuttered jumble of ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You,’ its garbled vocal modulation and frayed edges of distortion channeling the paranoia of somebody listening to muffled voices through thin plaster, climbing the walls of their bedroom with the curtains closed, a nervous breakdown in stereo.

In counterpoint to this glides the ever-present spirit of the dance floor, which haunts the record from the moment it is invoked in its first few seconds. Opening onto a sea wall of bright synthesis, the stuttering vocals and bass tone chops of ‘Nervous Energy’ dump us directly into post rave ecstasy, the echoing cry of a voice amplified by loudspeaker carrying the loose energy and surge of crowds moving in darkness. The incessant, dead phone line beep of ‘Pigeon Flesh’ builds to a pulse that suddenly swells into an anxious technoid surge, shapeshifting at lysergic speed into head shrinking audio hallucinations, a descent into the void of the present via machine music hypnosis. Even ‘Its Hard To Get To Know You’ summons the ego death drive of hardcore techno within its scorched textures, flickering indiscernibly between attritional noise and frazzled hardware stomp. Paying homage to both the parties of his youth and a countless succession of Sundays spent offering himself up within Berghain’s hallowed architecture, Culver’s experiments in addressing his formative relationship with rave provide an energetic glimpse at where he might take his sound next.

Between spikes of propulsive energy and grim mood pieces Culver returns to suspended passages of aching, glacial drift, the cold swell of the North Sea, accompanied by some of his heaviest testimonials. The gauzy ebb of ‘Daytime TV,’ its tumbling loops reminiscent of boats bobbing off a distant shore, sees the artist at his most checked out, slumped in front of his television, seven days a week. ‘I used to dream of doing something,’ he admits, ‘anything to get out of this town.’ ‘Love Like An Abscess’ pairs swirling currents of ambient shimmer with violent images of baseball bats lying next to beds and blood-stained mattresses, next to which Culver pleads in a desperate mumble, ‘let our love grow, like a broken abscess.’ Yet it’s with the album’s final word and title track that Culver reveals a glimmer of cautious optimism, a parting gesture of exposition and closure. ‘I knew I had to get away,’ he asserts, ‘so I did and I never looked back.’ What follows builds from a low throb, the flutter of a tiny heartbeat, to a resonant glow, embellished with unfurling synthetic burbles, oil rigs sparkling in the distance, golden light spilling across the sea. In reckoning with the place he had to escape, Richie Culver is now free to look towards the promise of something new, something hopeful.

Having torn up raves for well over a decade, the Detroit duo Rickers and Ted Krisko AKA Ataxia present their debut longplayer ‘Out Of Step’. Featuring guest spots from close peers DJ Minx, Andrés and Mr Joshooa, they twist house, techno, electro, breakbeat and rave into revitalized new shapes; embellished with a touch of soul, funk and hip hop. With backgrounds in hardcore and punk, Ataxia’s debut is suffused with that energy, attitude, and approach; this is raw, lean and unashamedly no-nonsense dance floor tackle that goes straight for the jugular. Heavily analogue, the album experiments with tape saturation, which harks back to the duo’s formative years in bands, recording demos to cassettes. These straight-up, in-the-red tracks give preference to overdriven drum machines, rather than generic polished sheen, but conversely, it’s all deceptively well-crafted too; ‘Out Of Step’ is a standout record that’s big in character, bringing to mind the renegade spirit of Underground Resistance, and the bombastic brilliance of The Prodigy and Chemical Brothers.

Defiantly optimistic despite the state of the world, a “life is good” vocal sample meets minor chords sliding over 808 hats on the exemplary house/techno pumper ‘Detroit Gospel’, before a lighter moment on the album, but no less impactful with its hefty low-end thump, is ‘Pine Island’ featuring Motor City hero Andrés. Together they cook up a Motown-inspired house cut awash with horn swells and backup singers, bouncing to wide swung funk bass, in classic 313 style. ‘Language’ turns the club on its head – busting out one of the most distinct basslines in recent times, and bristling with buzzy, undulating chords, whilst ‘Maxia’ features influential Detroit royalty DJ Minx. Inspired by her classic ‘A Walk In The Park’, with a fat distorted kick and stealthy bass groove, this is low-slung, stripped-back, heads-down coolness. The high-tech funk of ‘Spit In Your Percolator’, is laser-guided in its efficiency, with a strobe-like, increasingly intensifying energy, peppered with clever, tripped up vocal chops. With the next cut, conveyor belt noises and fast churning low-end gives way to a dubbed-out breakdown, on the deep breakbeat roller ‘98 Degrees’. Charged with a blistering, rave intensity, ‘Number Streets’, is a futuristic distorted techno workout that booms through the subs, whilst ‘The Formulator’ mixes filtered snippets, abstract synth noises and melodic bleeps with a bassline echoing Paperclip People’s ‘The Floor’. Closer to the UK definition of hardcore, combining 4/4 and breakbeat, ‘The Pusher’ evokes the spirit of late 80s orbital raves, adding a natty keys solo, and deadly bass used sparingly, for even deadlier effect. ‘Feels Like’ sees Rickers and Ted team up their studiomate and fellow TV Lounge resident and club booker, Mister Joshooa. Inspired by Photek but also almost UKG in style, this breakbeat session is stamped with MJ’s signature chopped vocals and intricate rhythmic interplay. The bubbling, wobbly loose swing of ‘WM’ is constructed around a classic chopped-up MTV cribs sample, with a filtered vocal creating a far out psychedelic effect – all of which is propelled apace by a huge bruising LFO. The LP concludes in fine style with ‘Dance The Bridge’, where bouncy beats and wigged-out keys meet bright, gently uplifting synth chords that bring a clear-skied mood; ending the record as it began, on an optimistic note.

‘Out Of Step’ marks another chapter in the ongoing relationship between Life and Death co-founder DJ Tennis and Ataxia. Their connection goes back to the earliest days of the label, where they played gigs together on some of Tennis’ initial visits to Detroit. It’s a friendship that’s blossomed organically over the last decade through their shared love of punk and hardcore, and led to the fruition of one of Ataxia’s most compelling projects to date. Labels to release Ataxia’s output include legendary Detroit techno imprints Planet E and KMS, plus the seminal American house label Nervous Records. Their catalogue also includes music for Visionquest, Leftroom, 20/20 Vision and Seth Troxler’s Play It Say It.

Sunda Arc are brothers Nick Smart and Jordan Smart. Best known as key members of folk and jazz influenced minimalists Mammal Hands, their Sunda Arc project takes inspiration from the likes of Jon Hopkins, Rival Consoles, Moderat and Nils Frahm as well as their own music world. Their debut EP 'Flicker' was released in December 2018 and now the duo are set to release their debut LP, 'Tides' on 7th February 2020.

Named for a volcanic arc in the Indian Ocean, created by the process of massive tectonic plates colliding, Sunda Arc strives to mingle electronic and acoustic sounds until they become almost indistinguishable from each other. It's a process where they draw the acoustic properties and quirks out of electronic sounds and find the electronic potential in acoustic sounds. "Finding the ghost in the machine or blending the human elements of playing live is something we are always trying to explore in our work.

Experimentation is a large part of our process and we tend to combine carefully composed material with chaotic ideas to find the balance between the two" — Sunda Arc 'Tides', their debut album, takes its name from the idea of unseen forces that can affect our lives in myriad ways, being pushed and pulled and at the whim of powerful forces outside of our control as well as offering a nod to things such as the tides on our planet, tectonic plate movements and weather systems. There are often chaotic elements in these systems that function in a way that produce a type of controlled randomness on a large scale. This is something they try to reflect in their music by adopting some of the ways these systems work into musical sequences, and using ideas such as chaos theory to control musical parameters. "Tides is a reference to themes we were thinking a lot about during the making of this album. These include the similarities between macro and micro systems, or the circulatory and nervous systems in the body. Things that produce a type of controlled randomness on a large scale". — Sunda Arc 'Hymn', the first single from the album, uses Nick's voice sampled and played back through a keyboard to create a human yet electronic feel.

It mixes soft vocals with heavier electronic elements to create a danceable yet human sound world. 'Dawn', is best described as uplifting-techno, its use of repeated phrases building in intensity and variations to put you into a hypnotic state whilst also being industrial and danceable. 'Daemon' is one of the tracks that really resonates live. Drawing on the sound of UK dubstep it's intense but fun and the bass clarinet blends with synths at the end to create a sound almost like a vocal. 'Secret Window' brings forward another side of the band, focusing around a lo-fi recording of felted piano and bass clarinet.

These are blended with granularised and processed versions of themselves which emerge like ghosts of the instruments throughout the track. 'Cluster' is another key track. It utilises a small group of notes looped in an unusual way to create a sense of cascading patterns over a solid danceable drum groove. It emphasises soprano sax blended into the sound world half-way through to lift into the final section.

Collapso Calypso is the long-awaited third album from dreampop artist Chorusgirl. Initially planned for release in 2020, but the pandemic and a nervous breakdown brought everything to a screeching halt. It took Silvi Wersing - aka Chorusgirl - the rest of 2020 and 2021 to rebuild her life and reconsider everything, including her music and the band. She decided to relocate from London to her small hometown in Germany, to become a carer for her increasingly ill father and to take Chorusgirl back to its roots as a solo project, just like in 2014. She revisited old demos and wrote a few more songs, and steadily worked to complete the album as an anchor at a time of turmoil. With the album charting her progress back to health, she decided to call it Collapso Calypso, a riff on taking her despair for a dance. The album includes a multitude of references from music and film and features Silvi's trademark self-reflective lyrics on the themes of coming through a crisis, grief, resilience, and ultimately letting go, or the inability thereof, all set to the sounds of 60s girl groups and her favourite bands from the 80s. The release follows on from 2018 album Shimmer and Spin (Reckless Yes) and the self-titled 2015 debut (Fortuna Pop). “Chorusgirl pertain to a certain kind of cold, detached dreaminess you’d associate with a label like 4AD in its prime: their overall sound being seemingly informed by Lush’s successful hybrid of classic pop, fiery punk and shimmering soundscapes. … Yet, rather than reliving a sound there’s a sense here that Chorusgirl are more intent on reinventing it. Look no further than their debut self-titled LP for conviction.” (8/10) Line of Best Fit “Chorusgirl’s sound is distinctly London (although, more the London of the 80s than of now) but it’s also the sound of escaping London. (…) It’s the feeling of sleeping with the bedroom window open for the first time in months and waking up with a fresh wafting across your face.” Noisey “Chorusgirl explore universal themes with the catchiest of tunes, thundering rhythms, a wry sense of self and fascinating multi-meaning lyrics.” (8/10) Louder Than War “There’s no slack on the album – from the starting gate to the finish line, Chorusgirl bristle with static and nerves.” … Chorusgirl are simple, until they’re not. You might recognise the distant spirits, the razor chords, the surfy snarls. But where other bands coast on borrowed sound, Wersing bends it to her own life, creating a space that resonates with insight and empathy. Ever felt separate from the human race? Be comforted, for here is your kind.” (7/10) Drowned In Sound This is a record with teeth… one of the most impressive first albums of a year rich in strong debuts.” (5/5) NARC Magazine “Sparkling with bright rhythms and jangling pop…with hints of something shadier, bittersweet and more potent.” London In Stereo “Lovingly smudged guitars” (7/10) Loud & Quiet

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

Beautifully drunken it hums, the piano in “PianoPiano”, the last tune of “How to Spread Lies”, the first EP by Roman Flügel for the Hamburg based label Dial in the year 2010. Or take “Strich”, a peculiar electrical slow-motion grinder, out on his “Mutter” EP for Klang Electronic in 2006. Since long, the renowned Berlin based DJ and producer is investigating in spheres beyond the dance, the groove, the ecstasy. Zones, where the molecules harmonize, senses relieve, and the soul quietens. All his last albums, “All The Right Noises” (Dial), “Themes I-XIII” (ESP Institue), “Eating Darkness” (Running Back) have moments of tension and relaxation in a deep harmonious connection.

Now “Balmy Evening”, a sundown record for sunup’s. Eleven notions in adventurous journey music, embracing the freedom of structure, blurring the musical pulse into harmonic meditation and mysteriously grooving zones, leaving all unnecessary accessories behind. A quality, that many of his collaborative and solo productions from past 30 years comprise. Still, most of them squint on the dance floor, where jack is king. Not so “Balmy Evening”, where real party bangers are absent. There are moving tunes like the slow Kraftwerk-melody-leaning funkateer “Duftschulter”, or the artificially jacking “Greenhouse”, where nervous Synth patterns ball along soft breaks and decreet kicks. Also, “Super Sonne”, an odd, seemingly improvised synth conversation might ask some souls out for a dance.

But all others, like “Atmosphere”, “Frei”, Dolphins, “Goth”, or “Ambienteuse”, rather seek for the tranquil in each one’s spirit. Listeners need be ready for surprises. Ready for impulsive ideas, linked to a harmonious flow, always ready to grow. An album full of silence, utterly loud, beautifully diverse humming, displaying a playful, exploratory side of a celebrated club music producer, to whom atoms dance in manifold ways.