Buscar:notion

Dark Entries returns to the New Jersey basement studio of Smersh to unearth an 18-minute jam session from 1989, backed with two contemporary remixes. Smersh was the duo of Mike Mangino and Chris Shepard from Piscataway, NJ who began making music together in 1978. They were uninterested in traditional notions of songwriting or live performance. Between 1981 and 1993 they released over 40 cassette albums on their own Atlas King imprint. As these tapes traded their way across continents, Smersh developed a devoted following in places far beyond New Jersey, leading to releases on dozens of other labels from around the globe.

Sideways' was taken from a cassette titled '100', which refers to a 100-minute jam session the band recorded to tape on June 12, 1989 in Piscataway. The track was composed and performed by Mike, utilizing a Roland TB-303, TR-606, SH-09 and an ARP 2600. A frenetic hybrid of techno and acid with driving EBM style beats, Sideways' weaves intricate industrial noises with synth melodies that drift in and out of phase. On the flip are two fresh remixes by different aliases of prolific Ann Arbor producer Tadd Mullinix. As JTC, he expands the sound palette, adding organ stabs and lush pads, drawing on Detroit deep house and UK garage.The Charles Manier remix features chanted vocals on top of an array of pulsating synths, stark percussion, and post-punky guitar effects. Each song has been carefully remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The record is sleeved in a replica of the '100' artwork, which designer Eloise Leigh modified using motifs and textures sourced from the original cassette. Also included is an oversized postcard with notes.

In 2017, the musical term electronic' is nearly obsolete given the ubiquity of computerized processes in producing music. Even so, the prevailing assumption is that musicians working under this broad umbrella must be inspired by concepts equally as electrified as their equipment. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith has demonstrated in her still-blooming discography that this notion couldn't be further from the truth, and that more often than not, rich worlds of synthesized
sound are born from deep reverence of the natural world. Smith (who by no coincidence, cites naturalist David Attenborough as a contemporary muse) has embodied such an appreciation on
The Kid in as direct and sincere a way as possible by sonically charting the phases of life itself.
The album, which punctually follows up her 2016 breakthrough EARS, chronicles four defining cognitive and emotional stages of the human lifespan across four sides of a double LP.
The first side takes us through the confused astonishment of a newborn, unaware of itself, existing in an unwitting nirvana. Smith's music has always woven a youthful thread befitting of the
aforementioned subject. Here she articulates it in signature fashion on the track An Intention,' which serves not only as a soaring spire on The Kid, but on her entire output. There is playfulness here, but it's elevated by an undertone of gravity into something compelling and majestic that is fast becoming Smith's watermark. The emotional focus of side two is the vital but underreported moment in early youth when we cross the threshold into self awareness. The subject is profound enough to fill an entire album, but rarely makes its way into a single track, indicating Smith's ambition to broach subtler and deeper subjects than the average composer. This side offers up another highlight in the form of In The World But Not Of The World' which serves its subject well with epiphanic, climbing strings and decidedly noisy textures over a near-Bollywood low end pulse.

Side three emphasizes a feeling of being confirmed enough in one's own identity to begin giving back to the formative forces of one's upbringing, which is arguably the duty that all great artists
aim to fulfill. This side ends with the exploratory album cut Who I Am & Why I Am Where I Am' recorded in a single take without overdubs on the rare EMS Synthi 100 synthesizer. This humble
piece of sound design serves as a contrast to side four's verdant orchestral moments, all written and arranged for the EU-based Stargaze quartet by Smith herself. This final side represents a
return to pure being, the kind of wisdom and peace that eludes most of us until the autumn of life. On To Feel Your Best' this concept is voiced in the bittersweet refrain one day I'll wake up
and you won't be there' which Smith intended to be a grateful acknowledgement of life rather than a melancholy resentment of loss. The song has both effects depending on the mood of the
listener, and both interpretations are equally moving.
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith belongs to an ilk of modern musicians who are defined by their commitment to creating experiential albums despite the singles-oriented habits of modern listeners,
and here she represents her kind proudly. The subjects on The Kid are not simple to convey, and yet through both emotional tone and lyrical content, Smith does just that. There is a similar
gravity to both birth and death, and rarely is that correlation as accurately and enthusiastically mapped as it is here.

Alan Watts, another logical inspiration of Smith's, once expounded that people record themselves to confirm their own existence, and as such, echoes and resonance are reminders that we are alive. You're not there unless you're recorded,' Watts muses, if you shout, and it doesn't come back and echo, it didn't happen.' The Kid speaks to this idea directly. As Kaitlyn Aurelia
Smith explores her existence through music, she guides us in gleefully contemplating our own.

With The Object Isn't There UK guitar player and producer Jack Allett has made a deeply personal masterpiece based around cyclical guitar parts and electronic percussion. Playing like a half remembered fever dream with an aesthetic that is ragged, hypnotic and spacey, its two side-long pieces touch on minimalism, kraut-infused dub and euphoric dance floor optimism. As comfortable being played after Manuel Göttschings E2-E4 as right before a Terekke lo-fi house anthem, it is laced with the melancholy of an early morning post-rave comedown. Yet for all the references and name-checking, it's a record that is hard to compare to anything else, past or present.



BIOGRAPHY



Jack Allett works as a producer in London and has been active for many years as an experimental guitar player, releasing a solo record on Blackest Rainbow and collaborating with UK avant-guitar player Cam Deas. The Object Isn't There was written, recorded, and mixed in Camberwell and Camden, London, UK. 2012-2016.



INFO



This record is about - insofar as instrumental music need be about anything - hallucinations. The title The Object Isn't There serves as a concise definition, derived from the quote 'An hallucination is a strictly sensational form of consciousness, as good and true a sensation as if there were a real object there. The object happens to be not there, that is all.' (William James, The Principles Of Psychology, 1890)



Having experienced constant tinnitus - a form of auditory hallucination - for the last 13 years, Jack has long questioned the distinction of something experienced as being either there or not-there. Even if, strictly speaking, an hallucination is something that's not there, if the reality of how it affects day-to-day existence is undeniable then to any extent that matters, it is there. But The Object Isn't There is no tale of woe, nor simply a response to this one condition, and tinnitus need not be considered only as distressing or distracting. Allett sees it merely as one example of many things in life that cross this uncertain terrain:



There are obvious parallels here with the notion of active listening. There is room for emotion too, particularly the kind of overwhelming, -all-consuming emotion that, once it fades, is hard to believe was actually how you felt. Essentially the music here is concerned with being overwhelmed by a sensation, never really being sure to what extent you are conjuring it up yourself, to what extent it exists independently of you, but ultimately deciding that it doesn't much matter; the sensation itself was undeniable.

— Jack Allett

A swirling haze with a plenitude of sounds bobbing to it's surface it's a heartfelt

Vlad Dinu opens Mihai Bravu's 1st release starting the audio journey with 'Deep in my house' , a track that occupies the entire A side, just like a proper tool should.
As the name of the track hints, we find ourselves submerged in deep territory : a tight and groovy bass line, laced with a steady percussion, sprinkled with some 16bit arcade reminiscent accents and soothing intermingled vocal cuts. The deep vibe is crafty perpetuated by several synths at play,
which together combine in such a way to add a wide atmospheric feel to the composition. Definitely 'Deep in my house' sounds and feels more like of a 90's tune, and while listening to it, one could easily find himself drift into the nostalgia of the good old days.
Side B goes even deeper with two tracks defined by the notion of 'head tracks' . 'Gun Zah' continues the storyline with twisty percussive rhythms and a groovy atmosphere, tailored into a bangin floor choon while 'Questions Answered' submerges the listener into layers of groovy basslines, swifty percs and milky synths, all put together into the form of a most 'alive' track.

Dark Entries returns to the New Jersey basement studio of Smersh to unearth a 4-track selection from the 'Deep House Anthems' cassette. Smersh was the duo of Mike Mangino and Chris Shepard, who began making music together in 1978. They were uninterested in traditional notions of songwriting or live performance. Recording in a domestic setting necessitated the abandonment of live drums for rhythm machines, and the Smersh sound would gradually change with each new bit of gear they acquired. The Electro-Harmonic Rhythm 12 gave way to TR606, TB303, and SH-09. Most Monday nights, they would write a new song from scratch. A couple hours later, the song was recorded, never to be performed again. By 1988, they had already put out at least 16 different tapes on their own Atlas King imprint. They would be followed by as many more. Some of those (subsequent) tapes there were less than 10 copies that got made because nobody wanted them. They couldn't get reviewed,' says Mike Mangino. As these tapes traded their way across continents, Smersh developed a devoted following in places far beyond Piscataway, leading to releases on dozens of other labels from around the globe. Smersh's sound is a lush hybrid of techno, industrial, dance, and experimental. Most songs revolve around driving EBM style beats, intricate industrial noise manipulation and synth melodies. For 'Selected Deep House Anthems' we selected 4 tracks of pulsating acid techno, which were recorded live, direct to DAT. All songs were originally recorded and released in 1991, and this the first time all but one of these songs are appearing on vinyl.

Debut LP of Manuel Carvalho, half of Paralaxe Editions, under his Manta moniker, after a self released CDR and a tape on Marvellous Tone. Inching a few steps towards the dance floor, 'Citadel' revolves around notions of space and its emotional resonance within the human psyche, conjuring visions of Detroit Techno or early Warp into a Ballardesque dream of hazy synth lines, layered percussion and glassy textures. Over six tracks, Manta ebbs and flows seamlessly from the neon lit utopias of 'Kayseri' and 'Grid', through to the paranoia infused thumping rhythms of 'Citadel' and 'Blackwater' and into the synthetic tropics of 'Ghost' and 'Grid', all the while creating a headspace where Juan Atkins, B12, Porter Ricks or Black Dice all fit within the same dimension.

Vactrol Park is an honest outpouring of thematic obsession, a celebration of championed studio components and the mastery of their nuance, an avant garde collaboration between Kyle Martin (Land of Light, Spectral Empire) and Guido Zen (Gamers in Exile, Brain Machine). Simply entitled "I" (the first of a 2 part series), this debut EP opens the door to a world of ebb and flow, layers of oscillation falling in and out of sync, keeping us on the brink of vertigo and, as cliché as it may sound, we find solace in its chaos. This homogeneous release plays with the notions of systems as beautifully symbolized Mario Hugo's capsule of cardiology—yet another visually arresting module in the ESP Institute catalogue. Some music is made for drugs, some is made on drugs, these tracks simply are drugs.

* Hospital Records present their latest compilation 'Fast Soul Music' - a welcomed lesson in the art of soul-inspired drum & bass of the high-speed variety. After nineteen years spent building upon it's lounge-core esthetic their extensive library of smooth-rolling sounds is at the ready, now it's time to get retrospective.

* From the work of thirty artists, a carefully selected forty-six tracks highlight the quintessential sounds of soul music in the Hospital Records back catalogue. Not only effortlessly blending classics from Hospital mainstays London Elektricity, High Contrast, Danny Byrd, Nu:Tone, S.P.Y and Logistics but also showcasing the fresh wave of talent that's reached our ears in recent years. The work of Fred V & Grafix, Hugh Hardie, Keeno, Etherwood, Anile, Tokyo Prose and Technimatic showcasing just how prominent soul music is in drum & bass today.

* Accompanying this two-CD collectors item is a perfectly polished mix by longstanding practitioner and newest member of the Hospital A+R team, Nu:Tone. With over two hours of soul-inspired sounds that effortlessly create the ideal soundtrack for any daydream-filled afternoon.

* With a nod back to London Elektricity's '03 classic 'Fast Soul Music' and a look forward to the fresh influx of talent passing through, Hospital Record's latest compilation provides any drum & bass fan with a chance to rediscover those once forgotten gems and dust off the cobwebs from their favourite nostalgia-fuelling drum & bass anthems.

* Digital Marketing: Youtube upload schedule for music and video content on Hospital Records YouTube channel - (260k subscribers), cross promotion exclusive mix upload with UKF Youtube channel.

* Press / Promotion: Comprehensive campaign in-house serving all UK music and dance titles as well as national, regional and student press - Mixmag, DJ, Trap, Notion, Music Week, Future Music, Time Out, Metro, London Evening Standard, The Guardian, The Independent, Dazed + Confused, Vice, The Wire, The Fly, Vice Magazine, Clash. Kmag (interview), D&BA (interview). UKF Website and Youtube Channel. Reddit AMA, FACT Mag TV interview.

* Radio / Internet: Comprehensive in house campain from Hospital Records. BBC Radio1 & 1Xtra support from Mistajam, Friction, B Traits, Annie Mac, Andi Durrant (Kiss), Eddy Temple-Morris (X-FM), DJ Hype (Kiss), D&BA TV Takeover, Rinse FM Hospital Records Show, Hospital Podcast Hospital Records Podcast USA series, Kmag Podcast, Ministry of Sound Podcast. D&BA Podcast, Hospital records Website, Hospital Facebook (262K Likes), Twitter (64K Followers), Soundcloud (48k followers), YouTube (238k subscribers), Hospital Records Mailing List (53k Subscribers)






aG CD 1-7 | Logistics feat. Nightshade and Sarah Callander 'Crystal Skies'
















DISC 2

There is something singularly unique and peculiar in the degree to which seemingly unsettling themes and extreme taboos have been explored, most notably in the medium of film, in the land of Nippon. Free from the constraints of reality, notions of grotesque brutality, torture, fetishism, and sadomasochism, to name a few, have oftentimes served as driving motifs in the examination of the true nature of violence latent in the most repressed reaches of the human mind. Concurrently, in the realm of electronic music, many Japanese producers have often been able to cultivate and harness a daring yet distinctly refined and inimitable form of organized sonic chaos, one almost instantly recognizable to the occidental ear. The music of Tomohiko Sagae, and in particular his latest contribution to Furanum's catalogue, The Spurt of Blood, is perhaps a quintessential example of the confluence of the former themes and latter medium.
At the outset of the record, the beholder is faced with the 'Vacant Eyes' of a staggering monstrosity, a subdued and subjugated automata in the midst of a bleak dystopia, nearly lifeless but for the grudgingly conceded advance of its death march. As a battery of gratuitous aural violence led by a dominant synth is rapidly unleashed in the subsequent composition, a growing malaise transforms into fractured bone and psyche alike, with no distinction made anymore between the tearing of metal, flesh, or the fabric of the mind. Culminating in 'Severe Pain', with limits of endurance breached and descent into madness the only seeming form of respite, relentlessly rolling drums and hauntingly sublime howls provide the context for the dawning realization of pain as a virtue in and of itself, when a demented pleasure and the exhilarative liberation that lies therein begins to emerge. In the final act, reinterpreted by Furanum stalwarts Uncto, roles are tellingly reversed as the vacant eyes of the victim become that of the oppressor. With cold-blooded precision, the original is reengineered into a force of merciless domination, its elements machined and recalibrated for pure power.Words: PSD

Darshan Jesrani's new project Funn City continues to break open the notion of modern vs. retro and challenges the listener to categorize what is found inside. Extending the experiment in modern disco without re-treading already explored ground, Funn City offers a playful and rebellious approach to the recombination of old and new. Funn City sticks lightly to the fusion of live and electronic instruments, and heavily to its varied influences from rock and r&b to house and techno, yet casts them in a delirious, neon-lit sheen. 'All-Night People,' the project's first offering, is a relentlessly-upbeat, vivid, saturated trip of a maxi-single inspired by that liminal area of late-70s dance music which existed between shitty, bluesy rock, new wave and disco. Otherworldly, gurgling synths surf atop truncated, slashing guitar and thick, pattering congas. Taut synth sequences spar with sinewy lead lines and trashy vocals, bound together by a precise, modern sensibility, enticing you to waste your time inside a glorious, pinball machine dream. The dub on Side B works most of the same features but empties out the arrangement and infuses the mix with a bubbling, techno-inspired sequence and phaser-licked synth to create a new, more streamlined groove for the track-oriented dancefloor and style of play. Startree is proud to present this first release as a mission-statement in musical form and an indicator of things to come.

One can hardly imagine the genre-busting, culture-crossing musical magic of Outkast, Prince, Erykah Badu, Rick James, The Roots, or even the early Red Hot Chili Peppers without the influence of R&B pioneer Betty Davis. Her style of raw and revelatory punk-funk defies any notions that women can’t be visionaries in the worlds of rock and pop. In recent years, rappers from Ice Cube to Talib Kweli to Ludacris have rhymed over her intensely strong but sensual music.



There is one testimonial about Betty Davis that is universal: she was a woman ahead of her time. In our contemporary moment, this may not be as self-evident as it was thirty years ago – we live in an age that’s been profoundly changed by flamboyant flaunting of female sexuality: from Parlet to Madonna, Lil Kim to Kelis. Yet, back in 1973 when Betty Davis first showed up in her silver go-go boots, dazzling smile and towering Afro, who could you possibly have compared her to? Marva Whitney had the voice but not the independence. Labelle wouldn’t get sexy with their “Lady Marmalade” for another year while Millie Jackson wasn’t Feelin’ Bitchy until 1977. Even Tina Turner, the most obvious predecessor to Betty’s fierce style wasn’t completely out of Ike’s shadow until later in the decade.



Ms. Davis’s unique story, still sadly mostly unknown, is unlike any other in popular music. Betty wrote the song “Uptown” for the Chambers Brothers before marrying Miles Davis in the late ’60s, influencing him with psychedelic rock, and introducing him to Jimi Hendrix — personally inspiring the classic album Bitches Brew.



But her songwriting ability was way ahead of its time as well. Betty not only wrote every song she ever recorded and produced every album after her first, but the young woman penned the tunes that got The Commodores signed to Motown. The Detroit label soon came calling, pitching a Motown songwriting deal, which Betty turned down. Motown wanted to own everything. Heading to the UK, Marc Bolan of T. Rex urged the creative dynamo to start writing for herself. A common thread throughout Betty’s career would be her unbending Do-It-Yourself ethic, which made her quickly turn down anyone who didn’t fit with the vision. She would eventually say no to Eric Clapton as her album producer, seeing him as too banal.



Her 1974 sophomore album They Say I’m Different features a worthy-of-framing futuristic cover challenging David Bowie’s science fiction funk with real rocking soul-fire, kicked off with the savagely sexual “Shoo-B-Doop and Cop Him” (later sampled by Ice Cube). Her follow up is full of classic cuts like “Don’t Call Her No Tramp” and the hilarious, hard, deep funk of “He Was A Big Freak.”

The new album will be released across a series of 4 limited edition 12" vinyls. This is the 2nd 12 inch From Tronic Jazz The Berlin Sessions. A Guy Called Gerald has spent the last couple of years flitting through shadows, turning up on labels like Perlon, Beatstreet and Sender like a peripatetic prophet of the Berlin underground, seeding the scene with cryptic singles that return to the past to suggest alternate futures. Now he returns to Berlin's Laboratory Instinct label with the follow-up to 2006's Proto Acid: The Berlin Sessions, the album that re-established Gerald as an acid hero and techno auteur. Tronic Jazz: The Berlin Sessions builds upon the foundation established by its predecessor to create an even more powerful statement of intent, one that communicates more persuasively than ever Gerald's vision for techno in its third decade of existence. One immediate difference stands out, this time around. Where Proto Acid offered a seamless mix of 24 cuts, recorded in one epic session, Tronic Jazz collects 13 standalone tracks. That's welcome news to DJs. After so many years of digital anything-goes, you might have forgotten the kind of sounds that are possible with "old" machines: the way a lead stacked against tuned percussion and shrouded in pads can evoke still other sounds, hidden in the mix, or maybe not really there at all. It's a ghostly, suggestive presence, a kind of evocation of infinite possibility within the context of a limited set of inputs. In that sense, Tronic Jazz follows a certain minimalist impulse, but it's far too lush ever to be mistaken for the dread "mnml" of recent years. This stuff is wide-eyed and full of life. When it funks, it funks hard, and when it smoothes out, it can be as intimate as a hand-written note left on a lover's pillow. As "class ic" as Tronic Jazz may be, the album refutes any notion that "class ic" equals "retro," that the ideas have all been expressed before. Tronic Jazz takes the foundations of house and techno as though they were a kind of language, and speaks volumes with them.

Over the past fifteen years, Florida-based multi-instrumentalist Eric Lanham has quietly generated a diverse and remarkable body of work both as a solo artist and in group settings. From the disorienting drone/collage ecstasies of Caboladies, his trio with Christopher Bush (Flanger Magazine) and Ben Zoeller, to wildly divergent solo flights under both his own name and as Carl Calm, Lanham’s carefully meted out recordings display the talents of a chameleonic composer who is as capable a sound designer as he is unconcerned with trend in experimental electronic music or notions of prolificness. “Objet Dirt” arrives ten years after “The Sincere Interruption,” his excellent longplayer for the now defunct Spectrum Spools imprint. Captured live, these compositions are brimming with kinetic, elastic, off-grid rhythms, an articulate and enigmatic language that restlessly darts around the stereo field. Of the collection, Lanham says "I haven't made a single piece of music that sounds like this since and it is hard to imagine doing so again.” If this is the case, the 20+ minute closer is a formidable final document. At once chaotic and tightly controlled, it is a torrent of coiling low-end, submerged and stretched rhythms, and seething high-end filigree that is as indebted to the hungry ghosts of free improvisation as it is anything resembling techno.