Suche:old bee town

Valley of Rain was Tucson’s Giant Sand’s debut album recorded in 1983, and eventually released by 1985. It included Howe Gelb on vocals, guitar and Winston Watson on drums for most of it, Tommy Larkins on drums for some of it and Scott Garber on fretless bass for all of it. At the time of the recording, Howe was unacquainted with the possibilities of tube (valve) amps and had recorded most of the album with a Roland JC120 at the miraculous 8 track facilities of The Control Center in Korea Town, Los Angeles by Ricky “Mix” Novak. This impromptu recording had occurred because the band refused to cancel their first Los Angeles live gig, at Madame Wong’s, when the band (Giant Sandworms) had broken up days before in Tucson. Instead, Howe headed out anyway with Scott, the newest member who’d only been in the band for about a year, after band mainstays Billy Sed and Dave Seger reasonably decided ‘enough was enough’ following a rough and tenuous year spent in the lower east side of NYC attempting to further the band circa 1981/82. Tucsonan Winston Watson, (who would go on to tour with Bob Dylan in the 90s, as well as Alice Cooper, Warren Zevon etc ) was already living in Los Angeles and was brave/kind enough to jump in for the live date with no rehearsal. The result was so sparked with adrenalin, that the trio set up an impromptu studio session the next day to attempt to capture the sonic thrust on tape. The total cost of the day and a half recording was $400 including one 1” reel of 30 minute tape. When Enigma Records offered to release the album they requested another 15 minutes of music to make it a full LP. Ron Goudie was then called in to oversee the extra recordings at a Venice, CA studio called Mad Dog with Eric Westfall engineering. Tommy Larkins, who had been on the previous country punk album of Howe’s “The Band of ... Blacky Ranchette” came in to drum for those last 3 songs. It was there when Howe borrowed an amp that had been stored at the studio did he discover the bolster of a tube amp and his world changed. The amp was a slightly modified Fender Twin Reverb owned by Robbie Krieger of The Doors. 30 some years later, now that the band had been put to sleep indefinitely, those very first songs had begun creeping into the last Giant Sand tours. It somehow seemed appropriate to give them another shot with the proper amp just to see what they could’ve been. What made the idea more approachable was the availability of both original drummers living back in Tucson. The first attempt came last summer with both Winston & Tommy and Thøger Lund on bass, as well as the 2 newest members, 29 year old Gabriel Sullivan and 23 year old Annie Dolan on double neck guitars. The sound was insane. The funny part was Gabriel, who engineered and mixed the session, gave it an intentional 80s production sound. Howe later explained to Gabe he had been at war with that production trend since those first original recordings. So they all tried it again at Christmas time, this time with a newly discovered Fender 30 amp that had only been in production from 1980 – 1983. This new re-recording of that first album now sounds like it should’ve sounded. It was re-done for $400 and the same day and a half session time as the original. Scott Garber even drove up from Austin TX with his fretless to play so that the album is literally the originally line up for at least half of the songs. And yes, no pedal boards were used too. The band intends to tour this summer playing only those Valley of Rain songs. Giant Sand Returns To Valley Of Rain.

Sometimes music is supposed to feel weird and indescribable. It’s the moments of clarity within the dense, sonic mess that often feels the most satisfying. That’s the space that Earth Tongue occupy. At times, their songs are shrill and disorientating, other times their reverb-washed textures and instantly- familiar hooks can wrap you in a warm, loving embrace. The one consistent thread through their music, however, is the thick and all encompassing fuzz. Guitarist Gussie Larkin has become a master of the fuzz-smothered riff, and along with Ezra Simons’ off-kilter drumming, they’ve been sending punters into transcendental states since they began gigging in their home town of Wellington, New Zealand in 2016. Floating Being will be released this June 21st. The album was pieced together throughout their travels of Australia and Europe, with the finishing touches being added in their hometown. The album contains songs they’ve been playing live for the past year, and it captures the raw, primitive energy that exists within their live performance. Earth Tongue embrace the imperfections in their playing and recording - drawing influence from early 70s psych and prog rock. The last thing they wanted was to create a shiny, over-produced record - with that in mind, they recorded the drums to an old 8-track Tascam reel-to-reel in a friend’s garage in Melbourne. The result is a punchy, raw and fuzzy journey into psych-rock with songs that weave between melodic and jarring. Unexpected twists and turns leave the listener in a disorientated yet satisfying haze.

Released only eight months after his exhilarating debut, Bruce Springsteen's The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle contains rousing dispatches from the boardwalk, the street, the beach, and the bedroom. It explodes with energy, dares to dream, teases with humour, crackles with tragedy, clings to hope, and overflows with discovery, youthfulness, and personality. It features an unforgettable cast of characters — corner boys, teenage hustlers, doomed lovers, jazz men, junk men, factory girls, fortune tellers, alley cats, pimps, escorts, and more — illuminated by vivid colour, breathtaking detail, and poetic action.

Musically, the heartfelt 1973 record is inhabited by sympathetic vignettes and cinematic arrangements steeped in rock 'n' roll, soul, jazz, and R&B. It finds the New Jersey native looking beyond the parameters of his preceding record and seeking to move on from environments he knows well (and chronicles here) by rushing headlong toward unknown territories, adventures, and people. Underpinned by the singer-guitarist's ambitious poetic enterprise and will to succeed, The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle is the album on which Springsteen becomes the Boss.

Mastered on Mobile Fidelity's renowned mastering system, pressed at RTI on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 7,500 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM LP set is the definitive-sounding version of Springsteen's sophomore record. Benefitting from SuperVinyl’s nearly non-existent noise floor, superb groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces, The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle plays with a clarity, energy, presence, and openness that complement the expressiveness, dynamics, and scope of the seven restless songs that comprise a work Rolling Stone ranked the 345th Greatest Album of All Time.

Beyond the audiophile sonics that practically place you behind the console at 914 Sound Studios — listen to the separation between the instruments, natural decay of the notes, interplay within the widescreen soundstaging, and nothing-to-lose youthfulness of Springsteen’s voice — this reissue takes seriously this record’s influential merit by presenting it in packaging that underlines its status. Tucked in a beautiful slipcase, the LP is housed in a special foil-stamped jacket with faithful-to-the-original graphics. This reissue is made for listeners who prize sound quality and who want to engage themselves in everything involved with the invigorating set that busted Springsteen loose from the club circuit and landed him on the radio

Determined to liberate anyone within earshot and unafraid to come on strong, The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle serves as the debut of the E Street Band — not only heard but seen for the first time by most of the public courtesy of the back-cover photograph. This is where saxophonist Clarence Clemons, organist-accordionist Danny Federici, and pianist David Sancious step out of the shadows — and drummer Vini Lopez and bassist Garry Tallent again stoke a fiery rhythmic engine that helps drive the untamed, reimagined big-band swing of “Kitty’s Back,” breathless R&B thrust of “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” and carefree dance steps of the funky “The E Street Shuffle.”

Of course, the main attraction remains a then-24-year-old visionary on the precipice of becoming a sensation and turning a then-bloated rock scene on its head. Recorded over three months while Springsteen and company were busy touring his debut LP, The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle reflects the high-octane approach the vocalist embraced onstage and drifts away from the label-dictated acoustic-based frameworks of his debut. The set also witnesses Springsteen deepening his observational skills, with narratives such as the romantically tinged “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)” and redemptive epic “Incident on 57th Street” mirroring changes taking place in the singer’s own life, small towns, and America at large.

A thrilling collision of memories, reflections, and composites — Sandy, Rosalita, and the latter’s parents are all based on actual people Springsteen knew, as is the community depicted in the opening track — the aptly titled The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle resonates decades on due to its truths, authenticity, and spirit. Those characteristics — as well as the fact that many of its lengthy songs come on as the equivalent of sweaty, feverish soul revue that won’t stop until you’ve been exhausted — also explain how this now-iconic album triumphed over the reservations of industry “experts” that both demanded Springsteen re-record it and instructed deejays not to play it.



Yet there’d be no stopping a record that saw the past, present, and future, a band whose will would not be denied, and a phenomenon who was born to run. A never-ending invitation to act real cool and stay up all night, The Wild, the Innocent & the E Street Shuffle always feels alright.

December 2012 I showed up totally exhausted in Vancouver BC after touring stupidly and relentlessly for however many straight months and got a job at a call centre raising money for the Red Cross. It was a scent free office but one time this woman cooked a piece of fish in the microwave for 10 minutes on low and hot boxed the whole office - we got sent home early no pay. There was the other woman I named the Call Centre Coltrane because her pitch and routine usually involved improvised flights of fancy that went off in both directions at once somehow landing back down with a credit card number and a donation. I used to sleep under the desk. I was there a few months and at the time I reconnected with John Brennan who I had played with briefly in Montreal at the Mutek Festival. In Montreal John was running an experimental music night at a burrito shop downtown called Garbage Night. While in Vancouver I began connecting with the music scene there and would go hang out with the Shearing Pinx lads who I think lived with Sydney the bass player at the time. I knew Nic and Jer from an AIDS Wolf Tour and was so stoked to get to know them both better. I really fell in love with that era of Vancouver's music scene.
Fast Forward to today. 2024
Actually it was the dying days of 2023 but you get it and John asks if I'll sit in with Earth Ball and I keep thinking about Earth Balance, the vegan butter everyone eats here. I brought my aching bones and my ipads on the beautiful ferry named the Queen of Oak Bay and out to Nanaimo BC, home of the nanaimo bar (a dessert treat - special to this region - that seems to be more popularly found under the weird glass sneeze guards in office building deli's out east in Ontario.... anyhoops ). No one in Nanaimo wants to talk to me about the famous treat. I asked a couple of people. Silence. Nanaimo is like London, Ontario but more fried and by the sea. The town is filled with blown out old sea dawgs with tin coffee pots and loose leaf tobacco, then there's the usual streetfolk you find in this part of the Canadian Pacific Northwest and a bunch of bohemians who I guess have left Vancouver behind - that fine city having become uninhabitable for those not making over 100k a year. And then up the way are all the retirees.
Yup Nanaimo is a strange one. They mined the shit out of this region and Nanaimo is surely haunted by those buried in mining shafts or maimed by the heavy machinery or blown up by accident in the explosives store house. And when Earth Ball fire up the amps in Izzy and Jer's basement you can hear the voices of the ghosts hum through electrical lines and out the speakers, Kellen's hued feedback, Izy's sturdy basslines, Jer's paperbag guitar tone and rumble pack zaps, Liam's (aka the Kid) sheets of sound and Brennen's multidirectional drums.
You wouldn't guess Earth Ball was auto-composing and from what my rat brain can tell - the lyrics are improvised too...Improvising lyrics and singing them is the hardest thing to do in all of music.. Izzy and Jer are pros. And their attitudes are pro too.
The live show is scorched and without naming names they've been known to make headliners nervous. Lucky ones will get to see them live as they tour this beast of a record entitled ‘It’s Yours’ (out May 17th on Upset The Rhythm) and I hope I'm one of them.
But now you, fan of fun but totally fucked up music, have the opportunity to Ball with them thanks to Upset The Rhythm. Enjoy
-Alex Moskos, Montreal QC, Feb 2024

Originally released on tape by SicSic in 2014, Aprilnacht commemorates a decade of music from Brannten Schnüre and marked the spring in a tetralogy of albums about the four seasons when it came out. Back then the Würzburg-based project consisted solely of Christian Schoppik, who later welcomed Katie Rich to take over the vocals. He used to perform as Agnes Beil, but dropped the name when, while making this album realized his music was becoming "much gentler and more fragile". Aprilnacht already captured the particular musical ideas that Schoppik would thoroughly keep exploring, delving deeper and deeper into the use and manipulation of samplers from sources so diverging as to wander between the five continents to post-war German family television and cult cinema. Heir of the ritualistic intensity of Coil, of the intricate sampler assemblies of Ghédalia Tazartès', and of the dusty, dismal old ballads from around the world, Brannten Schnüre manages to make these paths cross in a territory that is as inherent as it is uncanny; sieged by the past and intimate as a hearth. An organic approach to folk, ambient, and sound collage, where ethereal yet thoroughly textured pieces coalesce in enthralling, delicate, and innermost musical rituals.

The album cover paintings reveal the temper: dreary old towns where shadows come to dim the slow passage of crepuscular colors, a soft area of reanimation where wind and light come close and foresee the night of spring. Aprilnacht was inspired by the stories of German philosopher and writer Friedrich Alfred Schmid Noerr, whose work exhaustively examines the conflict between paganism and Christianity, safeguarding myth in a way that Schoppik describes as boldly modern, humorous and unpredictable in its variations of the Germanic folklore motifs. "I wanted to do the same with the music," he states, and the music here could as well be suitable for a night when household deities welcome wandering will-o'-the-wisps, water nymphs, and gyrovagues to discuss Perchta's leadership of The Wild Hunt, but this album is not a folk tale, it's not an elegy to worlds already gone, hidden in years; it's an intersection of routes that open mysteriously before our ears like a congregation of vapors. Aprilnacht is a gathering of voices; "There are too many children, and none of them keeps quiet," reads the last verse of «Requiem für eine Ringelnatter.»

Sensuality drips over the music to celebrate both the voluptuousness and tragic quality of nature; "It's raining on me, urine from your flowers," Schoppik sings in «Urin deiner Blüten» and later on, faced with a snake's erotic features, as if he wanted to be embraced by it: "Your quick, sharp tongue and your warm venom; that's what the pond is missing." Orality is where this profusion of contents thrives. When the voices get closer and condense, the words reveal the saliva employed to pronounce them; we feel the mouth and the tongue, but when breath envelops them in sorrow and softens their edges, they sound distant, diffused in the atmosphere, letting go of the body that held them. These two vocal facets oscillate permanently and interact naturally with the fertile assembly of samplers and instruments that develop throughout the album, which condense and disperse impersonating each other, interweaving to search for a specific syntax. Tangled whisperings of enigmatic phrases, timid voices that stick out to check the scene but hide away quickly, shivering trance chants and monastic ambiances, distant screams and clamors in between chaos and warfare swirl until bursting into subtle songs where even Mother Mary comes forth softly. Soothed by foggy atmospheres and crackling punctuations, these voices shape a vulnerable crowd, an occasion of fragility. Along this swarm of songs thrown into thin air, accordions sound like heavy-breathing lungs; clarinets sigh like curtains shaking; violin solos wander around like bees; Gjallarhorns cries distend like fleeing cattle; glockenspiels evoke remote music boxes and inherited toys; backward emanations emerge like slender waves retreating. On the banks of stretching loops and ember textures is where the songs slowly nest, collecting the words to find their tone.

A poem by Jorge Teillier says, "To talk with the dead you have to choose words that they recognize as easily as their hands recognized the fur of their dogs in the dark. To talk with the dead you have to know how to wait: they are fearful like the first steps of a child. But if we are patient one day they will answer us with a flame that suddenly revives in the fireplace." This may be Brannten Schnüre's main purpose: To find the voice to speak to those of whom we were a vision. Not in mourning, but acknowledging the obscure and volatile nature of spring's regenerative force, searching for the treasure of balance, as evidenced in the lyrics of «Requiem für ein Schwalbennest,» "Its nest was destroyed so many times before it was finished, and despite that, the shallow builds as if it is infatuated." The same idea is here in the words of Schmid Noerr, who made poetry an act of resistance to the horror of Nazism; "Since having seen the ability of a brilliant spirit to die, with a calm mouth that everyone saw, health is true again and we affirm it, even if rivers of blood flow." And as we call for the dusk's kindness, waiting to return home and eat with our kin by the stove, our ears become used to the games of the night. We feel like we're rowing on wetlands, while the "moon musick" keeps us vigilant against the slightest movement of water or sweet moan because eeriness here is imperative for survival. Do not succumb to the insipid howl of death, for nothing may last but mutability. You see, the rock has moved a little during the night; the rest is just wind fleeing from the void.

" Official reissue of a German pop rap obscurity in addition with a bombastic HADE rework. Comes in picture sleeve with the original artwork. Limited to 300 copies.

The project fes consisted at its core of Fred Schwalbacher and Herry Schmitt. Their impetus was to combine the local dialect of the German Saar area with modern musical styles. After a full length release in 1984, the single 'Altstadtking' was released in 1986.

At that time musicians were encountered with rap music and some experimented with and included it into their musical output. 'Altstadtking' (old town king) is the result. The old town part of Saarlouis was a mecca for all kind of braggadocio back then, it was all about seeing and beeing seen. This tongue-in-cheek song is the story of a man showing off and bragging at nighttime while living an ordinary life at daytime.

For the flipside jack of all trades and any-bpm-powerhouse HADE (baumusik, OYE Records, Razor-N-Tape) did a stunning rework. He chopped and cooked down all instrumental parts of the original into a new dub version, added keys & bass on top and an extra punch to the mixdown for his vision of a dancefloor-ready 'Altstadtking'.

Rock it! "

This is the story of the one the great disco labels, a legendary label who were at the forefront of a genre during it fruition and creative peak. Sam Weiss started SAM Records in Long Island City, New York in 1976. Sam, and his brother Hy, were born in Romania before moving to the Bronx in New York City when they were young. Sam and his brother were no strangers to the music business having been in the industry since the mid-50s running labels Old Town and Parody Records. • During the mid-1970s Disco took New York by storm and emerged into a revolutionary musical force that re-shaped the face of the City. It was however a genre major labels largely ignored initially. It was the smaller, independent labels that led the way in disco’s early years. Founded in 1974, Salsoul was the first. Sam’s new label SAM Records arrived a year later, followed by West End and Prelude in 1976: four labels from which umpteen disco classics emerged. • This compilation compiles all of the classic material that SAM release during the years 1975 and 1983. Offering up a treasure trove of disco essential this compilation features tracks from Gary’s Gang, John Davis & The Monster Orchestra, Komiko, Rhyze, Convertion, Vicky “D”, Greg Henderson alongside deeper cuts by Lucy Hawkins, K.I.D and more. • The audio used here has been sourced from the SAM archives and in many cases the mixes are appearing in their truest 12-inch form. The set is complete with extensive liner notes by The Guardian’s chief music critic and disco authority Alexis Petridis. • SAM Records has forever left its footprint on the Disco and music history, and this compilation is an essential addition to anyone’s collection.

The new album Northwind was recorded with Adrija Tokic in Nashville with some of the most well-known session musicians in town. Spencer has been a featured ROOTS artist, a Pendleton artist, has toured US and Canada with City and Colour, Daniel Romano, Jenn Grant, and more. He has had press coverage fromAmerican Songwriter, Exclaim!, and Pop Matters Support tours with City and Colour, Old Man Luedecke, Dan Romano, and more
"the north wind really saved me over the past couple of years. It brought to me a new sense of life and a new urgency for it. I had thought my songwriting days were over, but with the help of this little guitar and a strong want for expressing my gratitude towards the north, I found myself writing again. Almost every song on this coming album was written on this guitar and in the north itself. A beautiful breeze it breathes and with every breath a song. I’m thankful for these wild places. I hope they never leave us. I’ll be here until the end of my days"

Muireann Bradley is a young blues, ragtime, roots and folk guitarist and singer based in Ballybofey in County Donegal Ireland. “This is my first album. Most of these tunes were originally recorded by the great blues men and women who were making records from the 1920s and 1930s right up in some cases to the early 1970s. I have also found inspiration for the renditions recorded here in the playing of some of the musicians who began recording this music in the 1960s and later, and who in some cases learned at the feet of the greats. Many of these guitarists played pivotal roles in the 1960s blues revival and subsequent “rediscovery” of many of the greats of country blues. I grew up steeped in these old blues in the hills overlooking the valley of the River Finn just outside the town of Ballybofey in County Donegal. My father would play this music constantly at home and wherever we went in the car and talk about it endlessly whether anyone was listening or not, telling stories about the lives of these musicians as if they were legend, mythology or the evening news. My father could of course play all this stuff on guitar, I remember watching him when I was very young and thinking “I want to be able to do that”. When I was nine he agreed to teach me and bought me my first little travel guitar. I worked hard to learn how to play but as time wore on I seemed to have less and less time to practice as I became more and more invested in the combat sports I was regularly training and competing in. Then in March 2020 the first Covid lockdowns happened and all contact sports were shut down. I was lost for a while but soon found my way back to the guitar. I was now listening, playing and practicing with a new intensity and focus. In a very serious moment, I wrote out a list of tunes I was going to learn. The first tune on that list was Blind Blake’s “Police Dog Blues”. I’m not sure now how long it took to get that arrangement together but when it was ready we videoed me performing it and posted it on YouTube. It ended up getting a lot of attention, I remember my parents being quite shocked and soon after that Josh Rosenthal got in touch… and here we are! Each individual track on this album was recorded live in the studio and represents one entire take with me singing and backing myself up on guitar simultaneously. Most are either first or second takes. Nothing has been added or taken away, no overdubs or modern recording tricks of any kind have been used at all so at least in some respects this album has been recorded in the same way as those classics of the 1920s and 1930s

After releasing his seventh - arguably best and most popular album - The Odd Shower, The Bitter Springs' singer / songwriter Simon Rivers reinvented himself as Poor Performer, whose own debut, Like Yer Wounds Too, followed the same winning formula, widened somewhat by the inclusion of songs with a greater fragile beauty and introspection . . . though rarely without a degree of self-effacing humour and a rather stylish wit. Decades of self-releasing compact disc-only albums from the far southwestern suburbs of London, with scant regard for promotion or the normal machinations of showbiz - touring, for instance - did little to spread the word about Rivers' unique and prestigious talents. A conversational singer with a delightfully warm and convivial stone, Rivers' sense of the absurd and willingness to portray aspects of life generally unrecognised by pop music, one supposes it's not entirely unfair to have expect Top of The Pops to come calling. Yet the relative absence of cult of Simon Rivers fans is somewhat perplexing, for his lyrics, ideas and tunes all do merit it. There's little affectation in the sense of stage persona, but heaps of personality and intriguing, occasional perverse idea. It's hard to listen to anything he's down without a degree of sheer enjoyment. It's real, without affectation. The very real bumps heads with the slightly mental, just like in life! So what does this new guise - Oldfield Youth Club - have to offer? It's partially a revival of Rivers' first 'real' band, Last Party, and it displays hallmarks of that band's youthful energy. There's a bit of teen glam in Good News I'm Afraid and (Theme From Oldfield Youth Club, even while lead track We're The OYC and When Bob Grant Ruled The World add a dollop of an energetic ruefulness to the mix. A Kind Of Loving In A Loveless Town is an immediate classic, a song one could hear dozens of times before really reaching the core of its magic and majesty. Lest this sound like the work of a solo artist, it does feel like a band - a rather clever one, in fact. Including members Kim Rivers and Neil Palmer (both from Last Party), as well as trumpeter / vocalist Alison Targett, Oldfield Youth Club is a band with an obvious musical kinship. There's a connection to the literal style of Vic Godard's Subway Sect (and members have been shared between both acts) or early Go-Betweens . . . there's an alchemical sensibility shared by all three acts wherein their words and tunes inform each other in a deceptively casual but arresting manner. It's hard not to love, a rare work that earns immediate affection and just grows better from there.

2008 listete der "Rolling Stone" die 1933 als Eunice Kathleen Waymon geborene Künstlerin Nina Simone auf Rang 29 der 100 besten Sänger aller Zeiten. Im Dezember 2017 wurde Simone, die ihren Künstlernamen nach der Schauspielerin Simone Signoret wählte, mit der Aufnahme in die Rock and Roll Hall of Fame geehrt. Rock"n"Roll ist insofern etwas irreführend, da die Sängerin, Pianistin und Songschreiberin im Blues und Jazz zuhause war, beziehungsweise in Black Classical Music, wie sie ihren Stil selbst nannte. Von ihren Fans wurde sie hingegen als "Hohepriesterin des Soul" bezeichnet. In den Sechzigerjahren engagierte sich Simone stark in der US-amerikanischen Bürgerrechtsbewegung. Mit Liedern wie "Mississippi Goddam" und "To Be Young, Gifted, And Black" (Text: Weldon Irvine) wurde sie eine der musikalischen Leitfiguren dieser Bewegung. Wagram ehrt diese großartige Sängerin mit einer 3-LP-Box inkl Poster.

Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Presented in Audiophile Sound for the First Time: Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g SuperVinyl LP Plays with Riveting Detail
Three decades before he released The Philosophy of Modern Song — an insightful book devoted to 66 tunes that both impacted his career and the music world at large — Bob Dylan issued Good As I Been to You. The under-heralded 1992 album, Dylan’s first solo acoustic album in nearly 30 years and first all-covers effort in nearly 20 years, can be seen as a prophetic prelude to what has become the Nobel Laureate’s celebrated late-career arc. It’s also an absorbing continuation of the custom Dylan has embraced since he first picked up a guitar.


Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at RTI, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g SuperVinyl LP of Good As I Been to You reveals the immediacy, detail, and stripped-down nature of recording sessions that took place in Dylan’s garage studio in California. Simple, raw, and unplugged, the record presents Dylan in peak form — and showcases a diversity of vocal phrasing, soulful chording, harmonica accents, and close-up ambience that on this reissue emerge like never before. As the first-ever audiophile edition of this almost-lost classic, this LP also benefits from SuperVinyl’s extraordinary properties: a nearly inaudible noise floor, superb groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces among them.

Recorded and mixed by Micajah Ryan, and supervised by Debbie Gold, Good As I Been to You took shape at Dylan’s home shortly after the singer-songwriter completed sessions in Chicago with a full band. Unaccompanied, he again gravitated to existing works — in this case, traditional folk music — and, with Gold serving as a trusted advisor, performed the songs in multiple keys and tempos until he arrived at what he desired. That careful, determined albeit loose, organic approach emanates from this reissue, on which each note, movement, and space come across more directly, fully, and immediately than on the original formats. It helps draw a through-line to Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964) as well as the similarly themed follow-up, World Gone Wrong (1993) and immersive old-world storytelling of Tempest (2012) and Rough and Rowdy Ways (2020).

Well before Dylan made those renowned 21st century LPs, however, he needed to find a way out of a funk that — save for his 1989 collaboration with Daniel Lanois, Oh Mercy — followed him for years. As author Clinton Heylin reported Dylan admitting in 1997: “My influences have not changed — and any time they have done, the music goes off to a wrong place. That’s why I recorded two LPs of old songs, so I could personally get back to the music that’s true for me.”

Truth: Few, if any, concepts better encapsulate Good As I Been to You. It resonates with the same originality, honesty, resolve, and age- and time-defying relevance as the seminal Anthology of American Folk Music that fired Dylan’s imagination as a kid in small-town Minnesota and, later, per Greil Marcus’ That Old Weird America book, informed Dylan and the Band’s Basement Tapes sessions. This record also contains the type of music Dylan was playing during his acoustic sets at his period Never Ending Tour shows; within a year of the record’s release, Dylan would play half the album’s songs live.

As for those songs: Rife with strange mystery, common circumstance, and epic adventure, the stories appeal to our base instincts. Their themes — jealousy, temptation, sacrifice, love, revenge, identity, opportunity — operate on a fundamentally human level immune to trends, generations, or eras. They’re ancient and modern, serious and comical, open and disguised, simple and multi-layered. They talk of vengeance and justice (“Frankie & Albert”; “Jim Jones”), romance and tenderness (“Tomorrow Night,” “Froggie Went a Courtin’”), the troubled and trouble-free (“Hard Times,” “Sittin’ on Top of the World”). They lend voice to lovers scorned and freed (“Blackjack Davey”), the used and users (“Diamond Joe”), the powerful and powerless (“Arthur McBride,” “Canadee-I-O”), the followed and followers (“Little Maggie”). And akin to much of Dylan’s finest output, things are not always what they appear to be.

Spanning country, folk, sea shanty, bluegrass, and blues motifs, Good As I Been to You re-confirms Dylan’s position as an elite interpreter and sculptor — not of just structure but emotion. Dylan delivers the tunes as if he’s known them forever. He plays with a subtle sense of mischievousness and retains a largely upbeat demeanour; his eyes seemingly twinkle as he sings and picks. His guitar serves as the guidepost for shuffles, boogies, ballads, and mess-arounds while his innate feel for each specific arrangement and melody helps inform pacing, tone, attack.

Like a great author, he understands the importance of adhering to concision, luring an audience, holding their attention, and maximizing the impact of details, actions, and unexpected turns. Though already coarse and ragged, his voice feels ideal for the subject matter and his phrasing — from the clever ways he stretches syllables to underline meanings on the surprise twists of “Canadee-I-O” to the sheer delight he gets from singing “rowdy-dow-dow” on the protest song “Arthur McBride” — outstanding.

The studio at 122 West Loveland Avenue was not an unfamiliar space for Steve Okonski, the leader of his eponymous trio Okonski. Ever since the Colemine label set up shop in Loveland, Ohio it has been a host to a number of groups passing through town, including Durand Jones and the Indications who all of this trio's members have connections to. After setting aside some time in winter of 2020, Okonski, trained initially as a classical pianist, invited Michael Isvara "Ish" Montgomery and Aaron Frazer to work on an album that was initially planned to be beat driven and fully composed trio instrumentals. After finishing this first session with some improvisations, a second week was booked in the summer of 2021 to try and capture some more of that spontaneous energy. During this session, the tracks were all improvised and recorded live to a Tascam 388 during several late nights at the Colemine HQ. They were structured to allow the group's collective intuition to fully shape the melodies and arcs of the music. The album opens with Runner Up, where a triumphant yet melancholic melody in the piano leads to a more reserved B-section driven by the drums and bass of Frazer and Montgomery. As you journey through the remainder of the album you are met with a plethora of evoked and explored emotions. The calmness one has walking down a moonlit street after midnight, the connection one has for a person who comes into their world for just a moment or a lifetime, and the nerves and catharsis one feels when starting upon a new, unknown journey. Magnolia closes with Sunday, a track that was recorded late into the night at the close of their first recording session. Without the spontaneity of Sunday, the remainder of Magnolia would likely have never come to fruition. Magnolia was composed from the heart and from the spirit of those in the studio those late nights in Loveland. It is the culmination of an emotional and artistic release that was not afforded or recognized before the band sat at their instruments, and because of that it is introspective, meditative, spiritual, and new.

Deer Tick’s debut album, ‘War Elephant’, is back (even though it never went anywhere). It is the same stellar album released in 2007 and then reissued by Partisan in 2008. This version of the album finds us returning to the original 2007 illustrated cover. This cover will become the new standard version of the album across all formats. The music and track listing remains the same.

John McCauley III wrote, arranged, played, and recorded the album at the tender age of 21. The album is full of songs wiser and more nuanced than John should have been able to produce according to natural law. The words are deliberate and heartfelt and follow the lead of singer / songwriter heroes of John’s like Townes van Zandt, Neil Young and Richie Valens.

The album concludes with a cover of the 1962 GRAMMY-winning Song Of The Year, ‘What Kind of Fool Am I’, made famous by Sammy Davis, Jr.

It can safely be said that this debut album is a genre defying classic; it’s a hook filled bar room rock album that is as connected to 90’s Seattle catchy gloom as it is to left-of-the-dial late 80’s Minneapolis and 70’s Austin honky tonk.

140g Heavy Metal Grey (gun metal grey) coloured double LP with an etching on side D, housed in a single sleeve jacket with printed insert.

Original release press included reviews from Pitchfork and The Line of Best Fit plus support from Billboard, Brooklyn Vegan, All Music and American Songwriter.

Take the 101 north out of Los Angeles, and you'll pass by Agoura Hills, where the core duo of the band Dub Thompson grew up. Whatever you see in that town won't readily prepare you for the music they wrote while there, but you're free to look."Most everyone who's in a group who's our age lives on the Internet," says guitarist Matt Pulos. "The kinds of things that have shaped our band aren't anchored to any one time or place."Pulos and his bandmate, drummer Evan Laffer, are currently both 19 years old, and are putting that line of thought to the test; their musical influences travel from the Midwestern malaise of Big Black and Pere Ubu, to Kraut pioneers Can and Kraftwerk, while bowing to the British belligerence of The Fall and This Heat.Recording the album while living with Foxygen's Jonathan Rado at his rented house in Bloomington, the band had its first taste of a heavy Indiana summer, and all the humidity and insect life that buzzes along with it. "We woke up every day, ate hard-boiled eggs and stood on a porch," says Pulos of the experience.Their first collection of songs slyly unties the shoes of genre and convention, shapeshifts mischievously, and tramples on the promises delivered on the name itself.There are only eight songs on this rangy debut.Intense blasts of hook-filled noise rock ("Hayward!"), rocksteady marionette stomp ("No Time"), hypnotic bouts of doomy poetics ("Epicondyles"), outlandishly sexy groove rock ("Dograces"), and a number of other bite-sized forays into parts unknown are made manifest across 9 Songs. The vibes are strong here. Pulos sings and plays like he's working out long-standing grudges, pulling the most sinewy tones from an acoustic guitar and ripping huge chunks of demon flesh out of his electric. Laffer matches him step for step on the drums, an exacting presence behind the kit who pushes even the band's more placid moments into bouts of tension. Together they succeed in animating their musical ideas to startling, almost unnatural life. Reverb units, keyboards, samples and processing gluing everything together, saturated in the August heat and worn in until they sound second nature, it's like somehow you've been listening to these songs forever.

Danny Davis knows the galvanizing power of an anthemic, hair-raising song. As the co-founding songwriter behind the long-running Oklahoma City indie rock outfit Husbands, he’s been meticulously crafting breezy and emotionally potent tunes about finding your place in the world. His writing always strives to break free from monotony and routine, aiming for meaning and clarity through massive choruses and colorful arrangements. Cuatro, Husbands’ adventurous and triumphant fourth album out Oct. 13 via Thirty Tigers, marks a turning point for Davis. It’s the first LP he’s released without his longtime bandmate, collaborator, and close friend Wil Norton. It’s also an album that Davis made during a time of relative personal stability after quitting his nine-to-five and moving with his wife to Costa Rica. Across 11 arena-filling and richly-produced tracks, the full-length is a document of his growth as a human being and a testament to finding peace in relationships evolving.

New Shadows peaks into corners where interior and exterior worlds collide, where miniscule revelations can be found in the darkness of ourselves and our community: lost children, unheard prayers, bugs, money, depression, romantic relationships, regret, and Zoom funerals, all become a lens for self-reflection.

The production (by Don Cento and JDD) is modeled after DeCicca's favorite early 80's albums (Lindsey Buckingham's Law & Order, ZZ Top's Afterburner, Robert Palmer's Clues, Lou Reed's New Sensations,) while the songs' architectures and pathos lean more towards Warren Zevon, Townes Van Zandt, and John Prine - all these record- makers and songwriters are embedded in DeCicca's DNA, having seen them, and in some cases met them after gigs, when his brain was still developing between the ages of 13-19 years old.

The virtual collaborators are the musicians whose kept him company while isolated in his rural town, Bulverde, TX: Brian Harnetty's Many Hands, Rosali's No Medium, Irreversible Entanglements' Who Sent You?, James Brandon Lewis's Jessup Wagon, Jeff Parker's JP's Myspace Beats and Suite for Max Brown, and the Los Lobos discography.

New Shadows isn't so much about DeCicca's new discoveries, as it is the penumbrous reminder of what's always been there.

The Faithful Brothers

Soul and R&B from Tel Aviv

"It's so difficult to produce the feel and the excitement of the classic northern sound, but The Faithful Brothers were born to do it and they do it so well." Craig Charles, The Craig Charles Funk & Soul Show, BBC Radio 6 Music.

Is there a Northern Soul scene in Tel Aviv? The surprising answer is – yes, there is. If you're a soulie and in town, look for the Tel Aviv Soul Club, and you might find yourself swaying across a talcum-powder covered floor to Tel Aviv's own unique blend of classic Northern Soul 45s and early 1960s R&B sounds.

Chances are that those 45s will come out of the record boxes of one of the brothers Neeman, Johnnie and Bin. Sons of an Israeli diplomat, they travelled abroad extensively as children, in the 1960s and 1970s, discovering the wonderful world of rare soul music on the way. Tel Aviv Soul Club, aka TASC, is the brainchild of Yashiv Cohen, a DJ who, in 2006, lured the brothers Neeman, whose massive soul collections been hitherto confined to their respective living rooms, into playing their records to the Tel Aviv public. Yashiv is also the lead singer of Men of North Country (MONC), a Tel Aviv band with a distinct sound, blending rock, British pop and soul, that has recorded two albums for the London based label Acid Jazz Records, and toured Europe numerous times.

Since Neeman means Faithful in Hebrew, Yashiv woke up one morning with the crystallization that MONC must create a spin-off, a more puristic soul band, called the Faithful Brothers. There the biological Neeman/Faithful brothers would be joined by some of the members of MONC and a few more musical brothers from Tel Aviv to create new, original soul and R&B music. With a nod to the Northern Soul slogan "Keep The Faith", the name seemed too perfect to waste. The fact that the Neeman brothers were collectors, and not musicians, did not bother a man of vision like Yashiv. One day, he sent Johnnie some lyrics he wrote, asking him to compose music for it. Well, Johnnie called Bin, and they met in Johnnie's record room. With Johnnie playing some of the few chords he knew on his dusty old acoustic guitar, out came Teenage Frost, the first-ever musical composition of the Neeman brothers, recorded by MONC.

It took a few more years, but gradually the brothers succumbed to their fate, to continue their musical progression, from collectors to DJs to musicians. Johnnie took his guitar, Bin took to the piano, and the brothers began pouring out some of their influences, creating new songs. It is finally all coming together. The Faithful Brothers – now an eight-piece band, complete with a mighty brass section – release their first album "The Faithful Brothers".

As Wreckless Eric he needs little introduction - he wrote and recorded the classic Whole Wide World and had a hit with it back in 1977. Since then it"s been a hit for countless other artists including The Monkees, Cage The Elephant and Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day. Eric"s version featured in the 2022 Expedia / Superbowl / Ewan MacGregor travel ad, and the Cage The Elephant version is the new theme tune for the podcast Smartless. This new album, Leisureland, marks a return to his more ramshackle world of recording - guitars and temperamentally unpredictable analogue keyboards, beat-boxes and loops in conjunction with a real drummer, Sam Shepherd, who he met in a local coffee shop in Catskill, New York. He was delighted to find that Sam lived around the corner and could easily drop by to put drums on newly recorded tracks. The recording methodology may have been Contemporary American but the subject matter is almost entirely British. It also contains more instrumentals than any of his previous albums.

As Wreckless Eric he needs little introduction - he wrote and recorded the classic Whole Wide World and had a hit with it back in 1977. Since then it"s been a hit for countless other artists including The Monkees, Cage The Elephant and Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day. Eric"s version featured in the 2022 Expedia / Superbowl / Ewan MacGregor travel ad, and the Cage The Elephant version is the new theme tune for the podcast Smartless. This new album, Leisureland, marks a return to his more ramshackle world of recording - guitars and temperamentally unpredictable analogue keyboards, beat-boxes and loops in conjunction with a real drummer, Sam Shepherd, who he met in a local coffee shop in Catskill, New York. He was delighted to find that Sam lived around the corner and could easily drop by to put drums on newly recorded tracks. The recording methodology may have been Contemporary American but the subject matter is almost entirely British. It also contains more instrumentals than any of his previous albums.

They drift with phantom ease from spare, intimate, literate alt-country to a nuanced, weighted music bearing the marks of rock'n'roll history..." Classic Rock 8/10 // ”...slow burning, emotional intensity" Mojo **** // ”Alluring and seductive." Uncut **** // Morton Valence’s eighth, and eponymously titled album, comes to you, courtesy of Cow Pie Recordings, featuring 11 new songs, produced by the legendary BJ Cole. Robert ‘Hacker’ Jessett and Anne Gilpin, who form the nucleus of Morton Valence, effortlessly take the country music genre, which is generally considered a uniquely American musical form, and create something uniquely English, without ever compromising their authenticity. The atmosphere that BJ Cole brings to the album is palpable, in both production values, and his unmistakable pedal steel guitar performances, on songs such as the plaintive ‘Together Through the Rain’, where an estranged Anne and Hacker reunite under the shelter of an umbrella, walking through the rain and trading verses along the way. Or the more upbeat country rock of ‘I’ve Been Watching You/You’ve Been Watching Me’, which is almost as if Richard and Linda Thompson had touched down in some Nashville backbar before heading for the bright lights. And of course, the scintillatingly down-beat opener, and instant urban-country classic; ‘Summertime in London’, where Hacker reflects on his home city from afar, through simultaneously tear-stained and rose-tinted glasses. What gives the album its country hallmark, are the narratives in the songs. However, they forego the typical Americana for an altogether more kitchen-sink aesthetic. We see the return of MV alter egos Bob and Veronica in ‘Bob and Veronica’s Big Move’, as they make their way from the big city to what could only be the arcadian blue-collar tranquillity of Hastings, or Skegness perhaps? There’s the bewildered small-town homecoming of a wannabe prodigal son in ‘A Town Called Home’. And a conversation with ‘Jim’, a seemingly old-school kind of bloke, with a penchant for midday drinking and late-night city shenanigans. As well as BJ Cole’s steel guitar, there are other collaborations too. ‘Like a Face that’s Been Starved of a Kiss’, co-written with Band of Holy Joy front man, and lyrical visionary Johny Brown. Flamenco guitar genius, Amir John Haddad, sits in on the urban-cowboy ballad, ‘Me & My Old Guitar’, the skewed violin of Dylan Bates brings something of the vaudeville to songs such as ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, Guy Jackson adds his sublime keyboards throughout, and the whole thing is held together by unsung rhythm section heroes Jamie Shaw on drums and Josh De Mita on bass. As with all Morton Valence albums, along with the shade, there is always some light, in particular the escapist cosmic romp of ‘It’s a Brand-New Morning’, or the wryly observant, ‘It Isn’t Easy Being an Angel’, where the protagonist discovers that he’s living in some weird kind of purgatory where even the late Johnny Thunders has quit smoking. This is an ambitious album, formed through a unique symbiosis of musical characters, which is ready to redefine UK country music, put ‘urban country’ centre-stage, and should be heard by everyone

Five years after the release of ‘Luyando’, Zimbabwe’s most celebrated music export returns with their long-awaited follow-up album ‘Tusona: Tracings in the Sand’. The six musicians from Victoria Falls are refining their unique sound: infectious Afro grooves deeply connected to Zimbabwe’s cultural DNA. ‘Tusana’ is their most danceable album to date, a DIY production recorded in Zimbabwe. It features horns by Ghanaian highlife outfit Santrofi.

Every Sunday, there is a gathering in the sweltering heat on grounds of an old local beer hall in the Chinotimba township in Mosi-o-Tunya (Victoria Falls). Entertainment is provided by various traditional groups including the Luvale Makisi masquerade. It is a day full of singing, drumming, dancing and storytelling. Mokoomba’s lead vocalist Mathias Muzaza can often be found here singing with a voice both soaring and vulnerable. In the course of the afternoon the other band members - guitarist Trustworth Samende, bass player Abundance Mutori, keyboard player Phathisani Moyo, percussionist Miti Mugande and drummer Ndaba Coster Moyo - often join in with singing. The drum driven song “Bakalubale” featured on their new album invites you to this gathering.

Mokoomba recorded ‘Tusona: Tracings in the Sand’, the follow-up album to ‘Luyando’ (2017, Outhere), in Zimbabwe during the pandemic. Instead of working with outside producers like Manou Gallo or Steve Dyer as they have in the past, this album was entirely recorded in a DIY fashion by Mokoomba. The collective from Zimbabwe put in all the experiences made over the previous years and have forged their music into a unique Zimbabwean sound. On popular demand from their fans in Zimbabwe they have even re-recorded three songs from their last more acoustic album ‘Luyando’ turning them into dancehall bangers (featured on the CD and digital versions of the album). In short, this album is more Mokoomba than any of the ones before.

On the album Mokoomba are singing about love, loss, courage in a changing society. The first single “Nzara Hapana” means “no money” in Shona. The song talks about a man who wants to ensure the future of his wife and family and is trying to protect them against the greed of his relatives. The danceable up-tempo song “Nyansola” praises the goddess of harvest and asks her for rain. “Makisi” is sung in Luvale. It celebrates the beauty of the initiation ceremony for which the whole community comes together. “Manina” is a song about losing a loved one. It was written during the pandemic and features the young singer Ulethu from Harare. Mokoomba sing in many different local languages. Their songs are in Tonga, Luvale, Shona, Nyanja and even Lingala used in “Makolo” when they team up with Congolese singer Desolo B. (The album also features horns by Nobert Wonkyi Arthur (trumpet), Bernard Gyamfi (trombone) and Emmanuel Arthur (sax) from Ghanaian highlife outfit Santrofi.)

The title of the album is a nod towards their immense respect for tradition. ‘Tusona’ refers to an ancient system of signs and symbols, drawn in the sand and used for instruction during initiation ceremonies by the Luvale in Southern Africa. Another important part of the Mukanda initiation ceremony is the incredible Makisi masquerade. Since 2008 the Makisi dances are on the UNESCO list of intangible heritage. The Makisi are masked characters, representing the spirit of deceased ancestors. During the yearly initiation ceremony the Makisi return to the living world to teach the young children to become responsible adults among the Lubale people of Southern Africa. In the last decade the interest - especially among the young people – has faded and the Makisi dances have nearly died out.

“Our inspiration comes from these gatherings”, Trustworth Samende explains, “from listening to and playing pure traditional music with everyone in the township. We then add influences from music that we listened to in our homes growing up and the sounds we experience travelling around the world.” It is the connection with the cultures around them that gives Mokoomba’s music its spiritual power. When you hear Mathias Muzaza singing and you watch closely, you will see the music carrying him away to a different sphere, a place where he is singing with the ancestors. Only a split second later though Trust Samende’s sparkling guitar riffs kick in, blending Congolese influences from neighbouring Kasai with Zamrock and Mbira inspired Chimurenga music, making you want to hit the dancefloor. It is this unique blend of local musical styles with contemporary dance music that is at the heart of Mokoomba’s music. The strong reference to tradition is also reflected in the cover illustration by young Zimbabwean visual artist Lomedy Mhako.

It has been nearly 10 years since this young energetic band from Zimbabwe has exploded onto the international music scene. Since then they have shared their music with fans all over the world: Mokoomba have performed in over 40 countries, rocking audiences in places like Roskilde festival (Denmark), WOMAD festival (UK), Sziget festival (Hungary), SXSW (USA), Apollo Theatre (New York) to name but a few.

Like anywhere in the world Africa’s musical output has become more and more producer based. Mokoomba are the living proof that Africa’s great guitar band heritage is well alive and ready to set any dancefloor on fire. Most important though is that deep below the surface of Mokoomba’s sound - flowing like the Zambezi River - you can still hear the heartbeat and the rhythm of a community connected by its music. Like ‘Tusona’, it is a source of rejuvenation, resilience and strength in these changing times. May the tracings in the sand not fade.

Sophistication is a very apt description of both the music and the performing artist that is Bill Albright (real name Anthony Bills). Born in 1961 and raised in Baltimore, MD. Albright received a vocational as well as an associates degree in Electrical Engineering and Technology during 1981 the same year as he was blessed with the birth of his son Anthony Jr. From 1982 through to 1985 Bill had moved to New York City to model professionally for several major retail corporations such as Macy’s and Bloomingdales making good use of 170 pounds, six feet tall frame and handsome photogenic looks, while still finding time to hone his singing, songwriting and studio engineering skills through attending art Composers Theatre. His musical management and composing skills were to continue upon his return to his native Baltimore in 1986 as the prelude to him joining the national fundraising touring team for The United Negro College Fund in conjunction with the National Basket Ball Association (NBA) Slam Dunk Contests. Interacting with such celebrity players as Magic Johnson, Arsenio Hall, Spike Lee and Robert Townsend and Atlanta Hawks team mates Spud Webb and Dominique Wilkins.



Through his travels during 1989 Albright decided to settle in Atlanta, GA, making it his home to this present day. Once settled he founded his own cleaning business ‘All Bright Cleaning Services Inc’ built on good old-fashioned ethics of hard work and a strong determination to succeed, the exact same traits that he would later display in his future musical journey. While providing his cleaning services to major commercial companies, home, office and car detailing Albright found the time to continue pursuing his musical ambitions with a strong emphasis on live and recorded performances. In 1993 Albright formed ‘Bill Albright Productions Inc’ working with the late Keith “Keecho” Rawls the former Keyboardist and Musical Director for Peabo Bryson. Albright’s work has often been likened to Peabo’s for obvious reasons as well as Luther Vandross and Johnny Gill, He also draws inspiration from the stars of his youth Nat King Cole, The Isley Brothers, Frankie Beverley and Marvin Gaye amongst others. Albrights productions while being contemporary still retain an old school leaning which widens his appeal to a broader audience. Feeling that the time wasn’t right to release his material Albright continued with his successful cleaning business and live performances, that was until 2022 when he released the first of his productions (as a download only) the stylish “Sitting By The Phone” which gives more than a passing nod to Billy Stewart’s timeless classic “Sitting In The Park” but recorded in Albright’s own unique way. Albright’s second and forthcoming release is the more contemporary mid-tempo mover “In The Middle Of The Night” (only available as a download in the United States) but is due for a simultaneous vinyl 45 release in the UK paired with the aforementioned “Sitting By The Phone” as Soul Junction’s next 45 outing.

Lucinda Williams’ music has gotten her through her darkest days. It’s been that way since growing up amid family chaos in the Deep South, as she recounts in her candid new memoir, Don’t Tell Anybody the Secrets I told You. Over the past two years, it’s been the force driving her recovery from a debilitating stroke she suffered on November 17, 2020, at age 67. Her masterful, multi-Grammy-winning songwriting has never deserted her. To wit, her stunning, sixteenth studio album, Stories from a Rock n Roll Heart, brims over with some of the best work of her career. And though Williams can no longer play her beloved guitar – a constant companion since age 12 – her distinctive vocals sound better than ever. The band rocks out on the album’s jubilant opening track, “Let’s Get the Band Back Together,” which features a gang of background singers, including Margo Price and Buddy Miller. Inspired by “that need for community after all the isolation of the pandemic,” Williams offers, the song is “about getting old friends together again who’d drifted apart.” Price also joins her on the bluesy protest, “This Is Not My Town.” The evocative “New York Comeback” also includes guest vocalists – Bruce Springsteen and Patti Scialfa. A Lucinda Williams fan, Springsteen had joined her onstage in London a few years back, and he and Scialfa had wanted to contribute to a Williams album for a while. With Reese Wynans on B3 and the Pettibone-Mathis guitar attack, the musical setting perfectly matches the theme of “Comeback,” as well as on the catchy story-song “Rock N’ Roll Heart,” to which Springsteen and Scialfa also contributed vocals. Says Williams, “Having Bruce and Patti on these songs feels really great. It’s just so cool!” As she promises on the powerful last track of Stories from a Rock n Roll Heart–one of the best albums of her career–Lucinda Williams is “never gonna fade away.”

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

Pink Blue Marbled Vinyl

Angelo is an EP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist and singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy's father and both of Stuart's parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo's sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, "to get us out of our grief and into our bodies," says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal _ a resourceful, collective answer to "what happens now?". Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. "Such a bro-y, `80s dude car, it's been super fun to drive around in a new town," Murphy says. "He's older than us, he's a classic, he's got a story." It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, "Which Way To The Club." The question is quickly resolved by "Take A Trip" as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip - the kind of imagined space or chamber within one's self capable of "shifting a fraction of who you are," says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be "as free as we could be," adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: "What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room." Next is "Shy Guy," a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: "We are in junior high, we're on the dance floor, what's going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?" The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. "Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too," Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one - something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, "It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission." "Angelo" and "Ooo La La" deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean's catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo's dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude "Colors" drifting into "Where Do We Go?", a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space. It all culminates in "Caldwell's Way," a fond farewell to their Bay Area community - "a part of my life that I knew couldn't come back," says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There's the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: "I'd rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars." And the song's namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. "I'm only miles away, maybe I'm just feeling lonely," the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and "Nostalgia" runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

Welcome to the "Consume Land Flea Market". This is the atmospheric setting and at the same time the luminous title of the debut album of young producer Noayama. "It centers on the contradiction between turbo-capitalist consumerism and the desire for vintage stuff in all kinds of shapes and colors to escape reality for a bit. I think it's quite a nice and suitable metaphor for the position my generation is in right now" says the 21-year-old producer, musician and interdisciplinary artist.

On about 40 minutes, Noah Berger, who grew up near Munich, spans a wide musical arc with his alter ego Noayama. He combines Hip Hop aesthetics with playful Electronica and acts skillfully in the interstices of Pop. Hints of 70s Funk hedonism, Old-School House vibes and modern J-pop sensibilities can also be found on "Consume Land Flea Market." The binding agent of the album is Noayama's "Punk Attitude" which comes through clearly on his tracks and beats and is an elementary part of his producer DNA. "I just like to drift, it's very central to the way I work" adds Noah.

Just as important for him are intergenerational collaborations, which adorn his debut work in numerous ways. An illustrious round of artists is therefore represented on CLFM. It starts with young female rap artist Maassai from the New York underground scene who can be heard on the pulsating opener "Get You Back". Also from N.Y.C is Hprizm, a member of the legendary avant-garde rap group Anti-Pop Consortium, who is featured on the dark and gritty "I Went Left" and the bouncer "War." Funkstörung is also involved here. Not too much of a coincidence as Noah has been encouraged since his teenage days by his father Michael Fakesch, one half of the Glitch-hop pioneers who became famous in the late 90s. With "The Legendary Godmother of Japanese Electronica" Coppe' on "Majesty" and the German singer-songwriter her tree on the song "Flâner", introverted pieces have also found their place on CLFM. In addition multilingual verses with Silo Inf3rnx from the townships in Gugulethu on "Ingozi" and on top "the homies from the neighborhood" Anothr and Taprikk Sweezee who give the album further facets through their contribution.

Noayama combines elements and working methods of the last five decades in a relaxed manner and bundles them into a genuine piece of work. Emblematic of this approach is the choice of features. So is the gear he uses. He incorporates old synths (Roland Jupiter 8, Nordlead) and drum machines (Roland 808, Roland 909) with playful ease with common software tools. It's also pretty convenient that he's currently studying Digital Arts at the Kunstuni Linz. In fact, his semester project is the visualization of his own album which means that every single track and every interlude gets its own video. Well, Noayama is just a gambler.

With her hypnotizing voice and vivid lyricism, Jackie Mendoza makes fantastical, intimate electro-pop propelled by ukulele-based dance grooves. Having grown up between her birthplace of Chula Vista, California and Tijuana, Mexico, the 29-year-old singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist bridges these two worlds with dynamic soundscapes that pull from Latin pop, electronic music, and indie pop. She creates a musical universe that exists beyond strict borders of genre and geography, giving her the space to traverse the vast expanse of her interiority. Mendoza first started performing in 2014 as the vocalist for Brooklyn dream pop bands Gingerlys and Lunarette. She then broke out as a solo artist with her 2016 pop hits "Islands" and "La Luz," which showcased her imagery-packed, yet deeply introspective lyrics. On LuvHz, her 2019 adventurous debut EP that was initially inspired by a painful breakup, she turned her personal experiences into songs that observe greater truths about the world around her. As a result, the project became a broader reflection on varying forms of love, in relationships with your partner, your culture, and the natural environment. Mendoza expands this approach on her debut album, Galaxia de Emociones (Galaxy of Emotions), which sees her exploring a great range of feelings, from depression, celebration, outrage, numbness, hopelessness, and thrilling love. She uses each emotion as a portal to convey the intricacies of her experience as a queer, first-generation Mexican American woman, who actively defies and criticizes machismo and the Christian culture she was surrounded by. Brought up in the suburban border town of Chula Vista, she recalls being told by her parents to not mix English with Spanish, but speaking "spanglish" quickly became inevitable. It wasn't until high school, that learning to play ukulele and singing in school musicals allowed her to authentically express herself. "This album is about finding the courage to not only face my emotions, but also sharing them by singing them out loud." Mendoza says. The project was co-written and co-produced by Mendoza and Rusty Santos (Animal Collective, Panda Bear), with a contribution from Grammy winning producer and accordionist Ulises Lozano. As Galaxia de Emociones cruises from shimmering indie pop to accordion-laced electronic norteño, Mendoza proves there is both power and tenderness in embracing the fullness of your being and not doubting your instincts that might have been discouraged by society. She says it all in the opening song, "Natural," which blooms with spacey synths and twinkling ukulele plucks. "There is no use in controlling what comes natural to you," she sings in Spanish in a spellbinding loop. With her new album, she hopes that listeners can connect with her words and look within to explore their own galaxy of emotions.

The studio at 122 West Loveland Avenue was not an unfamiliar space for Steve Okonski, the leader of his eponymous trio Okonski. Ever since the Colemine label set up shop in Loveland, Ohio it has been a host to a number of groups passing through town, including Durand Jones and the Indications who all of this trio's members have connections to. After setting aside some time in winter of 2020, Okonski, trained initially as a classical pianist, invited Michael Isvara "Ish" Montgomery and Aaron Frazer to work on an album that was initially planned to be beat driven and fully composed trio instrumentals. After finishing this first session with some improvisations, a second week was booked in the summer of 2021 to try and capture some more of that spontaneous energy. During this session, the tracks were all improvised and recorded live to a Tascam 388 during several late nights at the Colemine HQ. They were structured to allow the group's collective intuition to fully shape the melodies and arcs of the music. The album opens with Runner Up, where a triumphant yet melancholic melody in the piano leads to a more reserved B-section driven by the drums and bass of Frazer and Montgomery. As you journey through the remainder of the album you are met with a plethora of evoked and explored emotions. The calmness one has walking down a moonlit street after midnight, the connection one has for a person who comes into their world for just a moment or a lifetime, and the nerves and catharsis one feels when starting upon a new, unknown journey. Magnolia closes with Sunday, a track that was recorded late into the night at the close of their first recording session. Without the spontaneity of Sunday, the remainder of Magnolia would likely have never come to fruition. Magnolia was composed from the heart and from the spirit of those in the studio those late nights in Loveland. It is the culmination of an emotional and artistic release that was not afforded or recognized before the band sat at their instruments, and because of that it is introspective, meditative, spiritual, and new.

Limited edition colored pressing is for Indies Only. Vinyl housed in a tip-on jacket. For Fans Of... John Carol Kirby, Pharoah Sanders, Bill Evans, Durand Jones & The Indications, Misha Panfilov. Debut LP from Okonski. Features current and former members of Durand Jones & the Indications (Steve Okonski, Aaron Frazer, and Michael Montgomery). Follows the debut single 'By The Lake', a collaboration with Germanbased artist and new Karma Chief signee Pale Jay (500k Monthly listeners). The studio at 122 West Loveland Avenue was not an unfamiliar space for Steve Okonski, the leader of his eponymous trio Okonski. Ever since the Colemine label set up shop in Loveland, Ohio it has been a host to a number of groups passing through town, including Durand Jones and the Indications who all of this trio’s members have connections to. After setting aside some time in winter of 2020, Okonski, trained initially as a classical pianist, invited Michael Isvara “Ish” Montgomery and Aaron Frazer to work on an album that was initially planned to be beat driven and fully composed trio instrumentals. After finishing this first session with some improvisations, a second week was booked in the summer of 2021 to try and capture some more of that spontaneous energy. During this session, the tracks were all improvised and recorded live to a Tascam 388 during several late nights at the Colemine HQ. They were structured to allow the group’s collective intuition to fully shape the melodies and arcs of the music. The album opens with Runner Up, where a triumphant yet melancholic melody in the piano leads to a more reserved B-section driven by the drums and bass of Frazer and Montgomery. As you journey through the remainder of the album you are met with a plethora of evoked and explored emotions. The calmness one has walking down a moonlit street after midnight, the connection one has for a person who comes into their world for just a moment or a lifetime, and the nerves and catharsis one feels when starting upon a new, unknown journey. Magnolia closes with Sunday, a track that was recorded late into the night at the close of their first recording session. Without the spontaneity of Sunday, the remainder of Magnolia would likely have never come to fruition. Magnolia was composed from the heart and from the spirit of those in the studio those late nights in Loveland. It is the culmination of an emotional and artistic release that was not afforded or recognized before the band sat at their instruments, and because of that it is introspective, meditative, spiritual, and new.

Jonah David has been creating and releasing music as Fantasy Camp since 2012, when he began producing and making beat tapes at age 16 in small-town Pennsylvania. Now based in Wilkes-Barre, and 10 years older, David has built Fantasy Camp into a gothic dream pop powerhouse, celebrating his first label release with Casual Intimacy on Memory Music.

The record comprises seven tracks of bedroom-produced, universe-sized dream pop, lo-fi R&B, indie rock, and electro-pop that document the aftermath of a long-term relationship’s dissolution, and the complexities of dating outside of the parameters of traditional, long-haul partnership. Casual Intimacy captured that weirdness.

David grew up in Hamburg, Pennsylvania, and started Fantasy Camp as a faceless project to put out a massive collection of mixtapes and production work. Over the years, he built up confidence and desire for a different pace, and by 2018 started adding vocals to his work. Initially, he would record on his phone’s voice memos function and clean it up on his computer, but over the years he collected equipment to outfit a basic bedroom studio setup.

The story about the lost recordings of Ghia continues: Following the recently released "At The Hilton" single, our label is extremely proud to present "Curaçao Blue", the band's first full-length album. And it is simply mind-blowing, to say the least! The LP features 10 unreleased tracks in a similar Balearic vein as featured on the single.

Incredibly, it was only just a few months ago that these tracks were rediscovered on some old tapes by band members Lutz Boberg and Frank Simon. Could anyone imagine that two physics students from a small German town could create such beautiful, thrilling music in their home studio? Although the technical aspects in the creation of the band's earliest tracks may have been straightforward, the outcome is high-quality, creative, modern jazz-funk, with one step in the electro-funk genre due to the use of a drum machine and synthesizer basslines. The album features mostly 4-track recordings, based mainly on the musicians' weapons of choice: a DX21 keyboard (later updated to the legendary DX7) and a guitar. Many things had to be done live in just one take, though the artists were unafraid of using overdubbing techniques to weave their instrumental journeys. The DIY aesthetics just add more beauty and uniqueness to the songs and compositions, and the result is an extremely harmonic work of undeniable musicality. Ghia delivers Balearic jazz-funk at its finest.

Though the music was recorded in Germany, Ghia had a true relationship with the Balearic region and effortlessly applied the vibes to their compositions. As a side note, one track on their earliest demo tapes was called "3 AM at Moëf Gaga" and we did not know what it meant. The band explained that Moëf Gaga is a nightclub on the Spanish coast that is actually still active today. Boberg and Simon, the two original band members of Ghia, visited the club in the early 80s and spent their holiday close to the sea. With their music, they intended to create a summery vibe, capturing a relaxed and soulful view of the seashore, likely with a drink in hand... Perhaps a Blue Curaçao?

The album starts with a revised version of the title track. The drums in this take are much punchier, and we thought that it would fit just perfectly as an introduction. We continue with the already classic "Down At The Hilton" that was featured on the single, but like us, we are sure you could happily listen to this track on repeat. Next up, "Jump In The Water" opens with a catchy delayed melody, which develops into another perfect jazz-funk piece with an extended guitar solo. Another remarkable song might be "In The Fast Lane". As the name suggests, an uptempo number, now with an electro-funk beat combined with speedy keyboard solos that almost sounds like a marimba. On side B, the album keeps the relaxed seaside vibes flowing. To round out the album, we are treated to two pieces that originated after the return home, with memories of the Spanish coast fading but still lingering, likely recorded between 1986 and 1988. Both are instrumental versions of songs to be used later for studio sessions with their new band member, singer Lisa Ohm (who you will hear on Ghia's next album!). On "Crystal Silence In Dub" we get a perfect downtempo groove, positively reminding us of the sound of the 1980s UK funk scene. The album ends with "Keep Your House In Disorder", here as an earlier, rougher, and funkier take than on the final vocal version, which could be found on the B-side of the "What's Your Voodoo" single.

We hope you love this album as much as we do! Nothing like this has yet been released out of Germany. We hardly can recall any privately produced, home recorded jazz-funk/fusion from the 1980s as free, creative, and uninhibited as Ghia's Curaçao Blue. The playful and creative approach, coupled with those nostalgic tones should make this LP an essential pick for any record collection, whether you are a DJ, a home listener, a music lover, or a modern jazz-funk/synth-funk aficionado.

The album is out now on The Outer Edge, the new label by record collector DJ Scientist, aka John Raincoatman. We also want to thank Frederic Stader for his awesome work mastering and sound restoration of the material on this LP.

Berlin electronic duo Donna Regina recorded two songs for the 10th edition of the Snowflakes Christmas Singles Club. In ‘Weihnachten Woanders’ (‘Christmas Somewhere Else’), singer Regina Janssen reflects on how it feels to spend Christmas away from home. Somewhere else, in a strange town where nobody knows your name and no one is waiting for you. You miss the familiar sounds of Christmas, like the child that sings ‘Stille Nacht’ and you dream of being home again. It’s a feeling many people can relate to. Especially this year, a year in which so many people were forced to flee from their homes. Günter Janssen, the other half of Donna Regina and Regina’s husband, lays down a minimalistic tapestry of synths and drum rolls. A loop of street sounds, a sample taken from sound artist Paula Schopf’s 2021 album ‘Especios En Soledad’, forces its way into the song, and in the end overpowers voice and other instruments. ‘Weihnachten Woanders’ very much captures the year 2022 and the worrying times we are living in, in both lyrics and music.

‘Christmas With You’, the B-side of the single, was originally written and recorded by Polish indie band Old Time Radio for their 2009 Christmas album 'Sketches For Another Christmas Songbook'. Donna Regina again goes for a minimalistic electronic sound, but also adds a certain melancholy to the song. Partly due to the synths that in places resemble the sound of an organ, an instrument that appeared on so many Christmas recordings from the 1950s and early 1960s. The love-hate relationship many people have with Christmas is perfectly laid down in the lyrics: “We watch the cartoons / We sing out of tune / Kiss by the fireplace / Listen to those horrible songs / Do we know / It’s Christmas time at all?”.

Regina and Donna Janssen debuted as Donna Regina in 1990 with the single 'Avec Le Temps' and released their debut album 'Lazing Away' in 1992 on Our Choice, a German sublabel of Rough Trade. In 1999, after four albums on Strange Ways Records, they signed to their current label Karaoke Kalk. Since then, they have released eight albums for the label. In 2015, Karaoke Kalk also released 'Dis Cover', a compilation of Donna Regina songs recorded by other artists like Dean & Britta, Bernard Burgalat, Mouse On Mars and many others. Donna Regina’s songs have been featured on compilations of labels like Rough Trade, Sonar Kollektiv, Klant Elektronik, Milan and Rolling Stone. Donna Regina was not Günther’s first band. In the early 1980s he was part of a Neue Deutsche Welle act with a very Christmas-related name: Heilige 3 Köninge ('Holy 3 Kings'). Their sole album, 1982's 'Zum Teufel Met Dem Kamel' has become very collectable. Günther was also featured as songwriter and musician on German singer Romie Singh's 1986 CBS album 'Masters' and later ventured into writing music for television and film. Regina Janssen also recorded as a vocalist with French musician Bertrand Burgalat, and sang several songs on his 2005 album ‘Portrait-Robot”.

Twisted and irreverent, The Rabbits combined ear-splitting guitar shrapnel with one of punk’s greatest-ever snot-nosed vocalists. With hints of PIL or Chrome, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through the warped lens of visionary loner Syoichi Miyazawa. First-ever vinyl release, fully remastered from the band’s original early ’80s cassette releases, and housed in a sturdy tip-on sleeve. Includes a double-sided, printed insert. Edition of 500

Singer-songwriter Syoichi Miyazawa’s tale is a confounding one.

He grew up in a small town in Yamagata Prefecture (in northern Japan), loved Dylan and The Beatles, and had very little exposure to, or interest in, underground music. And yet, shortly after 24-year-old Miyazawa arrived in Tokyo in 1978, he began performing solo shows at tiny clubs in the city, singing and playing guitar. His performances quicky devolved from brisk acoustic jaunts to lengthy, heavy dirges sung in a snot-nosed wail over a blown-out electric guitar detuned to produce a kind of sonic sludge.

At one of his earliest gigs, a mutual friend introduced him to Endo Michiro, who would soon become the legendary front man of Japanese punk icons The Stalin. It turned out Miyazawa and Endo had attended Yamagata University at the same time just a few years earlier, but hadn’t known each other at school. In Tokyo, they became fast friends, moved into the same apartment building, and for years were inseparable. Endo played guitar and drums on Miyazawa’s debut release, the “Christ Was Born in a Stable” flexi disc. But while Endo was social and outgoing, Miyazawa preferred to be alone, avoiding concerts unless he was performing.

Despite these antisocial tendencies, Miyazawa came to despise playing solo. In 1982, an eccentric high school student named Chika introduced herself at one of Miyazawa’s gigs, and Miyazawa asked if she’d play bass. She agreed and drafted two of her friends to play second guitar and drums. The Rabbits were born.

Miyazawa wrote the tunes, and had a clear vision for the group, but struggled to get the sound he wanted from the other members. His second guitarist was more of a fusion player, and Miyazawa took great pains to get him to tone down the shredding. The group quickly went through multiple line-up changes. Frustrated with the sound of their first proper recording (self-released as the “X1(x)” cassette), Miyazawa spent a full year mixing their second cassette, “Winter Songs,” on his own.

The hard work paid off — the sound of “Winter Songs” is striking, and unlike anything the band’s peers produced. There’s liberal use of delay on the vocals, giving the music a psychedelic feel, but the guitars are caustic, cutting through the mix like metal shrapnel. The rhythm section seems on the verge of teetering out of control throughout, an overdriven and pummeling current below abrasive slabs of guitar and vocals. Even at their most aggressive, though, The Rabbits had strong pop sensibilities, complete with cooing backing vocals and the occasional harmonica solo. Miyazawa delivers his borderline nonsensical lyrics with equal amounts of menace and gaiety, consistently riding that fine line as only a natural oddball can. At times, the band sounds like a distant cousin of PiL, Chrome or The Homosexuals, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through Miyazawa’s warped lens.

Although The Rabbits briskly sold all 500 copies of the "Winter Songs" tape, live audiences at the time seemed dumbfounded by the group, and would stare at them in silence. After two years together, The Rabbits called it quits in 1984.

When asked if any of the many legendary groups (Les Rallizes Desnudes, G.I.S.M., etc.) he shared stages with left an impression, Miyazawa recently revealed that he always left the venue as soon as he finished performing, so he never caught any of the other bands…

All of which is to say —

The Rabbits are one of the great punk bands of the early ’80s, but their leader had no interest in the punk scene and always thought he was making “normal” music. They rubbed shoulders with a slew of notable groups of the era, and their singer was best friends with arguably the most famous Japanese punk of all time, but Miyazawa shunned fraternization and purposefully distanced himself from his peers.

Could this be why so few underground music fans are familiar with the group, even in Japan? Why they seem to have been written out of the official history of Japanese punk? One can never know for sure, but Mesh-Key hopes to remedy this travesty by offering this compilation, the first-ever official LP by The Rabbits, to a new generation of punk and psychedelic music connoisseurs.
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The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, which follows Thomas’ brilliant 2020 HBO special The Golden One and his Can't Believe You're Happy Here EP released earlier this year, surveys a range of emotion and offers a broad sonic palette, moving between pop punk, electro, and the obvious influence of the singer-songwriters he grew up listening to in early childhood. It conjures the ennui of Bright Eyes alongside the barefaced storytelling of John Prine, the overstuffed lists of Fred Thomas with the lackadaisical humor of Colleen Green, among many others.

Thomas attributes the dexterity of the record to Duterte, who recorded and engineered most of it in addition to serving up plenty of encouragement when Thomas got down on the process. “As a comic, I used to test out new songs during sets to see if the funny bits were hitting, but since I wrote this in isolation I ended up writing lyrics and worrying less about making jokes,” Thomas says. That said, the album’s plenty funny. Stand-out and lead single “Rigamarole” opens with a Thomas-voiced infomercial that recalls his oft-cited lookalike Jim Carrey as the Grinch, before launching into a buoyant pop song about being depressed.

Whitmer Thomas will admit that when he traveled home to small town Gulf Shores, Alabama to record his HBO stand-up special, The Golden One, he expected to be greeted as a returning hero, a conquering king, or at minimum, a guy with a moderately successful career as an entertainer in Los Angeles. “I expected a big welcome home, open arms, but when I went back I realized: nobody fucking knows me. Nobody remembers me,” Thomas says. “In the years I’d been performing that show, I’d been romanticizing my childhood in this mythologized place, but the visit made me see that I’m not really from there anymore.”

The sense of alienation compounded when Thomas recognized how few people in town remembered his mom, to whom The Golden One is dedicated and largely about. Thomas grew up watching her perform with her twin sister at the legendary Flora-Bama Lounge, where he set the special, and still counts her as one of his musical influences. His new album, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was, isn’t overtly about his mom, her presence is deeply felt throughout. While in Gulf Shores, Thomas discovered dozens of her old recordings, all of which had been wrecked by Katrina, but upon returning to LA, Thomas paid “a fancy place in Hollywood” to fix the tapes and hired Melina Duterte (Jay Som, Bachelor, Routine) to mix them. The two struck up a collaborative friendship, and Thomas had the sound of his mom’s voice back. “I was listening to songs she recorded when she was about my age, just these heartfelt, sweet Americana songs,” he says. “I decided then that I wanted to lose the Ian Curtis voice I always sing with; I wanted to do what came naturally, because my mom always sounded like herself, even when she was singing some cheesy reggae song about, like, Jamaica.”

Thus he went into The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was knowing it was time to retire his darkwave persona, and leaning into his natural, chirpier voice, which he says sounds “like a 12-year-old’s.” It makes sense: much of the album chronicles what Thomas calls “being a kid and feeling like you have no control and overcompensating by being annoying.” “So much of the album is about witnessing drug and alcohol addiction as a kid and seeing what it does to people, but also realizing that there's nothing you can do about it,” Thomas says. It’s familiar territory (see: “Partied to Death”) but the methodology is different this time around; true to its title, The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was isn’t always looking for laughs. Thomas might’ve left his hometown behind, but his kid self is still tagging along, a Peter Pan shadow he can’t untether himself from. The first line he sings on The Older I Get, the Funnier I Was is: “There should be a room at every party where you can just sit and watch a movie.” Find a 12-year-old who wouldn’t say the same.

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."

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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.

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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."

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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."

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"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."

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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.

- The Complete 1988 Film Score by John Massari - Available For The First Time On Vinyl 180 Gram Violet and Blue Vinyl (Light In The Attic Exclusive Variant) - Exclusive Liner Notes by Composer John Massari - Exclusive Liner Notes by Killer Klowns Co-Creator Stephen Chiodo - Heavyweight 12" x 12" Art Print - Old-Style Tip-On Jackets with Matte Satin Coating // KILLER KLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE have finally landed at Waxwork Records! After much anticipation, we are thrilled to present the official 1988 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack by John Massari for the very first time on vinyl! Would you believe someone if they told you a circus tent-shaped spaceship landed in your small town and was abducting your neighbors to store them in cotton candy cocoons? In this '80's cult classic, teens Mike Tobacco (Grant Cramer) and Debbie Stone (Suzanne Snyder) have to fight both the diabolical bozos and the local law enforcement's disbelief to save themselves and their community! The original score to Killer Klowns From Outer Space is kicked off by the classic 80's horror movie theme track, Killer Klowns (From Outer Space) by California punk band, The Dickies. The 'nightmare merry-go-round' continues with a smattering of menacing electronic brass sections, electric guitar, bombastic drum machine beats, & harpsichord combined with sci-fi synth elements to capture the ultra-specific origins of the antagonists. Massari's score to Klowns is a retro-synth joyride from start to finish featuring immediately recognizable cues from the beloved 80's cult-classic! Waxwork Records is thrilled to present the official Killer Klowns From Outer Space double LP, released for the first time on vinyl. Complete with 180 gram "Cotton Candy" and "Popcorn" vinyl, deluxe packaging, new artwork by Ruiz Burgos, old-style tip-on jackets with matte coating, a heavyweight 12"x12" art print, and liner notes by composer Massari and Klowns co-creator Stephen Chiodo!

LAUNCH EVENTS Sept 2nd - Film premier at the David Lean Cinema in Croydon with a Q & A afterwards by Griff and Mark, and an aftershow party nearby with special celebrity guests TBC. An 18 track compilation featuring the best of Croydon's punk and post punk scene! Are They Hostile? Is a new documentary film about the Punk, New Wave and Indie scene in Croydon in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. It takes its name from the first single by Croydon band Bad Actors. To coincide with the film’s release Damaged Goods Records are releasing a compilation vinyl LP and CD featuring bands from in the film including Johnny Moped, The Marines, The Daleks, Case, Fanatics and also bands such as The Straps who played Croydon many times usually at The Star Pub in West Croydon. The CD version also features a specially recorded introduction by the legendary ex-Croydon Greyhound DJ Peter Fox. It’s been argued that Croydon was the birthplace of Punk in the UK, largely due to The Damned and Johnny Moped. But there was a group of other, less well-known bands who were part of that scene, or who came just after, but who didn’t achieve the same success or recognition. The film and album attempt to set the record straight by shining a light on bands such as Bad Actors, Case, The Daleks, The Heroes and Fanatics. the music still fizzes with the energy and enthusiasm of youth and the punk ethos of just doing it. And the participants, if a bit older and slightly less slim than forty years ago, come alive in the current interviews as if connected to the mains. As the saying goes, “old punks don’t die”, but they do remember. The documentary film takes us through the history of these bands, the people in them, the places they played and, through current interviews with “a bunch of old punks”, what they did next, and how formative and important being in a band was for them growing up. The film is the brainchild of Bad Actor Griff Griffiths and Mark Williams and will premier at the David Lean Cinema in Croydon on 2nd September with a Q & A afterwards by Griff and Mark, and an aftershow party nearby with special celebrity guests TBC. Griff explains: “It’s also a film about being young, being passionate, being part of something.” TRACKLISTING 1 – Bad Actors – Are the Hostile? 2 – Johnny Moped – Groovy Ruby (Live at the Roxy) 3 – The Marines – Step This Way 4 – Slime – Controversial 5 – Case – Smiling My Life Away 6 – The Daleks – Tiny Town 7 – Fanatics – Total Confusion 8 – The Straps - New Age 9 – The Heroes – Tarzan 10 – Bad Actors – One Of Us 11 – Johnny Moped – Incendiary Device (Live at the Roxy) 12 -The Marines – Pleasure Business 13 – Slime – Loony 14 – Case – I Don't Wanna Kill The Whales 15 - The Daleks - Rejected16 – Fanatics – When The Sun Goes Down 17 – The Straps – Brixton 18 – The Heroes - Russia

For Fans Of: Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, The Sure Fire Soul Ensemble, New Mastersounds, Soulive, Jimmy Smith, Khruangbin. First reissue since it's original pressing in 2018! The iconic debut LP from the Scone Cash Players. Hammond Organ Stylings By Organ Master Adam Scone. The Hammond Organ is lead singer on this soulful and orchestral journey about industrial decay and the death of the steel town. Deep from the rusted steel mills of Youngstown Ohio, we bring you the much-anticipated reissue of the melting debut from the Scone Cash Players. It's the same organist that brought you the screaming organ on all those Daptone favorites from The Sugarman Three. Scone was behind that organ bench on the modern classics as follows. "Sugar's Boogaloo”, “Soul Donkey”, “Pure Cane Sugar", and "What the World Needs Now." Adam Scone entered the studio on Dunham Street in Brooklyn. He was wearing a blue Adidas jump suit. The studio had just opened. At the helm were his old compadres from The Dap-Kings. Namely Thomas Brenneck, Eric Kalb, Homer Steinweiss and lan Hendrickson-Smith. They make up the "Bliss Machine" behind Scones's groove. It was a truly rare moment to catch these masters of music and taste in between tours of Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley. Tommy put the mics around. Scone powered up the organ. The analog tape machine turned and turned until they couldn't turn any more. These songs were recorded. We worked all day and all night. Tears were shed. Espresso was made. There was beer on tap. 3 days of life were taken to make this album. We will never get them back. They were distilled to 40 minutes of pure emotion. It's a tale of woe. It's a tale of leaving art for responsibility. It's a farewell to an era. It's a journey that the Hammond B3 organ wasn't accustomed to. You can't compare this album to any other organ record. Don't expect to hear what you want. Free your mind. Be open. Your world is going to feel the heat of the BLAST FURNACE! It never quite feels how you want it to. Don't get burned... Tracks: 1. 1% Crown 2. Bliss Machine 3. The Slitter 4. Heavy Gauge 5. Necking 6. Blast Furnace 7. Jet Cool 8 Call & Receive No Call Back 9. Grinding Wheel 10. Structural Failure