Suche:p relief

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

Continuing our quest to get all of the classic early AMT albums released on vinyl, we turn to 2006’s ‘Starless And Bible Black Sabbath’, and with the help of Makoto Kawabata’s studio wizardry, we’ve made it possible.

This latest instalment in the ‘Acid Mothers Temple Vinyl Archives - First Time On Vinyl’ series (as with the three previous SOLD OUT releases in the series) have all been meticulously put together with the help of Makoto Kawabata with the original CD artwork recreated for these vinyl editions from archive photos stored in the vaults at the Acid Mothers Temple in Osaka, Japan and the original audio remastered by James Plotkin.

Here’s what "Brainwashed" had to say upon it’s original CD only release back in 2006 …

“The title track is the meat of the beast, beginning with a minute of booms and gongs reminiscent of a thunderstorm before launching into some slow, heavy Sabbath-esque riffs. Squealing guitar and synth effects accompany the vocals of bassist Tabata Mitsuru, whose voice captures some of the sound and feeling of Ozzy's more than it does the melody. The pace is slower than most AMT fare, but things speed up considerably around the eight and a half minute mark. The group convincingly imitates the Sabbath guitar sound here and the rhythm section is particularly tight, giving listeners something on which to hang their ears or even providing them with a chance to gasp for air during Makoto's guitar explorations. Around the sixteen minute mark, everything comes to a wailing halt before the band returns to the dirge-like tempo that started the song. This pattern continues for the duration of the piece, until a couple of minutes before the ending, when the group makes a smooth transition to acoustic guitar and processed vocals to cool down.

Clocking in at nearly thirty-five minutes, the length alone may tax some listeners. However, the second track, "Woman From A Hell, "provides relief, which with a running time of six minutes is uncommon in the Acid Mothers canon for its brevity. This one condenses many of the ideas of the title track, and accomplishes much of the same evocation of Sabbath, but with the vocals in a more prominent role. The disc comes full circle, ending with thunderstorm sounds much like theones which started the album. Though the title track could have been shortened and perhaps an additional track included, this album remain some of the group's more accessible releases in some time and should please fans old and new alike.

According to the group's website, Makoto is reviving the Melting Paraiso U.F.O. line-up after a year of recording and touring with the Cosmic Inferno. This is a shame of sorts, since the Cosmic Inferno infused a much-needed vitality to the group that it had lacked since the departure of vocalist Cotton Casino. Yet the reformed Melting Paraiso U.F.O. has the potential to be even better since, if anything, Makoto seems to be the Mother of Reinvention.”

Acid Mothers Temple & The Cosmic Inferno are: Tabata Mitsuru - Bass, Vocal, Maratab - Hiroshi Higashi - Synthesizer, Dancin' King - Shimura Koji - Drums, Latino Cool - Okano Futoshi - Drums, God Speed - Makoto Kawabata - Guitars, Speed Guru

Mit der neuen Doppel-LP 'Long Distance Love - A Sweet Relief Tribute to Lowell George' hat Sweet Relief, die Organisation, die alle Arten von Berufsmusikern und Beschäftigten der Musikindustrie finanziell unterstützt, die mit körperlichen oder geistigen Problemen, Behinderungen oder altersbedingten Problemen zu kämpfen haben, ein Juwel vorgelegt.

Lowell George war der Gitarrenvirtuose, Sänger und Songschreiber von Little Feat. In dieser Sammlung von 25 Liedern interpretieren und spielen Künstler wie Elvis Costello, Ben Harper und Dave Alvin seinen vielfältigen Katalog. Der in Hollywood, Kalifornien, geborene George war Mitglied von Frank Zappas Mothers of Inventions, bevor er diese Band verließ und mit Bill Payne Little Feat gründete. Lowell gehörte der Band 7 Jahre lang bis zu seinem Tod an und veröffentlichte in dieser Zeit acht Alben. Obwohl George 1979 starb, lebt sein Vermächtnis durch dieses Album weiter.

Comic relief serves as a refreshing element that lightens up a tense or tragic situation. It creates a moment of contrast and distraction from the seriousness of the scene. This pattern can also be found in literature and film, in humorous characters like Chandler from the sitcom Friends. Especially in difficult times like these, we all occasionally long for comic relief. With his new EP, David Bay tries to create exactly such a moment of escape.

The songs on the EP unite an organic yet modern approach to indie, disco, and house music. David combines the two worlds he is rooted in: growing up in an indie band and, at the same time, running a disco-house label. After two edit EPs and a collection of singles with classic instrumentation and songwriting, this release brings everything together – music that sounds distinctly indie, but with a pulsating house beat.

Next to the four originals on the A-side, each track was remixed and is to be heard on the B-side of this vinyl: 80ies-influenced and well-known producer Lauer contributed his version of disco-gem „1999“, up and coming Dj- and producer Marie Lung flipped the indie-disco track „strangers“ into a deep and housy groover - Electro-legends Digitalism turned the dance-floor-ballad „<3 beat“ into a French-House belter and Dylan C. Greene hailing all the way from San Francisco remixed „dancing on the edge“. Out now on vinyl, only on Zissou Records.

The Mellons are set to enchant and enthrall with their new 7” release, ""Tell Me Why b/w Please Baby Please,"" marking a vibrant follow-up to their acclaimed 2022 album “Introducing... The Mellons!”. Continuing their homage to '60s psych pop, these singles encapsulate their signature blend of shimmering harmonies, intricate baroque touches, and rock sensibilities.

""Tell Me Why"" offers a lush tapestry of melody and emotion, while the B-side, ""Please Baby Please,"" emerges as a raw, urgent cry for relief amid life's chaos. With its grittier edge and desperate energy, this track delves deep into the turmoil of personal and collective struggles.

Adding an extra layer of intrigue, the B-side features a ghost track, an unexpected surprise that promises to captivate listeners with its enigmatic allure. Accompanied by a visually arresting music video directed by A.C.B. and filmed by the Captain, ""Please Baby Please"" embodies the Mellons' evolving sound and their commitment to pushing creative boundaries. Get ready for a sonic journey that mixes sunshine pop with stormy introspection, and let The Mellons' captivating new release sweep you off your feet.

Clothilde’s new album sounds like a constant departure from almost everything. Up until now, her music pieces seemed uncontrolled, a total commitment to the machines. She was, somehow, in between us - listener, audience - and the idea of a machine producing sounds she doesn’t seem to control. Of course, none of this was entirely true, she was mostly in control, but the fantasy, the orchestration of it was beautiful. It was sci-fi-ish, Metropolis-magnificent.

In “Cross Sections” everything is purposely under control. We feel, without being told, that Clothilde is directing the narrative, inviting us to partake of this raw and austere electronic sound, forcing us to learn to enjoy it. This is new. Whereas before she would expect you to stay put and listen, eventually you would understand and give in. Or your body would. Now she is telling you to be there, she doesn’t want to be alone, she wants us to feel this subterranean urgency at all costs.

The real eureka moment comes with “Medullary Rays”, when we start cohabiting with the sounds, when they feel familiar. The darkness becomes real; it is palpable how she is stretching each sound and making them come to life at every moment. It is violent, brutal. Like every track, it's a relief when it ends, it's like coming out of a car crash alive. Much of the A side of is Clothilde pushing the boundaries of her sound. She is not testing but finding new ground and sharing it with us. She is exorcising, demolishing and building over and over again, she is crying and screaming, dozing off with the demential levels of bass, making us constantly listen to alarm bells. She is scaring the shit out of us.

The B side keeps the levels of anxiety high up, especially on the 13-minute “Ring”. Surrealistic drones come and go, every second sounds like the end of something, the accumulation of tension is torrential and it never, never stops. We hope there is a conclusion to this. But there is not. “Cross Sections” builds and feeds on this darkness but, in a way, it is self-contained. Never explodes, never releases itself from itself. It is a continuous process of catharsis that it is never over. It never aims to be. Like, you know, life itself.

We've all been there. It feels familiar. Now it has a sound, or sounds. It can be heard and it is outer dimensional. “Cross Sections” is a tremendous effort from an artist trying to survive something. You never know what is. You don’t need to know what it is. It is just there. Cliché but it has to be said: highest possible volume on this one.

Der Ausdruck von hart erkämpftem Optimismus umschließt The Good Kind, ein Album, das Themen wie Sexualität, Beziehungen, Gemeinschaft und Krankheit erforscht. Die für Our Girl typische Dynamik durchdringt das Album, von schweren Gitarren und aufsteigenden Lead-Linien bis hin zu ohrwurmartigen Refrains und intimen gesanglichen Momenten. Voller Wärme und Ehrlichkeit ist The Good Kind eine Feier der Entschlossenheit – der Entscheidung, sich gegen alle Widerstände dem zu widmen, was zählt.
The Good Kind wurde in den Rockfield Studios aufegenommen und produziert von der Alt-Rock-Legende John Parish (PJ Harvey, Sparklehorse), Fern Ford (The Big Moon, Prima Queen) und Soph Nathan selbst. Für Our Girl spiegelt es den langen und kurvenreichen Weg zu ihrem zweiten Album wider, und die dauerhafte Belohnung für das Vertrauen in den Prozess.

Während des Entstehungsprozesses von The Good Kind haben Our Girl gelernt, sich selbst zu vertrauen, den schwierigeren Weg durchzuhalten und ihn als den einzigen zu erkennen, der es wert ist, gegangen zu werden. Die Entscheidung, dem Sound nachzujagen, den sie wollten, war der ermutigendste Moment ihrer bisherigen Karriere, und es hat sich ausgezahlt: The Good Kind ist ihr bisher selbstbewusstestes, bewegendstes und am besten umgesetztes Werk.

Katie Gavin's debut What A Relief taps into the unguarded self-possession and homespun pop sensibility of singers like Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple and Ani DiFranco, and uses their tenacity as a north star for Gavin's own trek towards self-discovery. "This record spans a lot of my life - it's about having a really deep desire for connection, but also encountering all the obstacles that stood in my way to be able to achieve that, patterns of isolation or even boredom with the real work of love" they say. Written over the course of seven years, What A Relief comprises a set of songs that Gavin always loved but which "had something in them" that she and her bandmates felt didn't quite fit within the universe they were trying to cultivate with MUNA. Many of them were written on acoustic guitar, and are rooted in "a style of music that's very much in my blood, and natural for me," as typified by the Women & Songs CDs that Gavin loves, which compiled music by artists like Tracy Chapman, Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan. That openness of spirit is the overwhelming character of What A Relief, an album that's refreshing in its willingness to accept people as they come, even as it remains in dogged pursuit of a life that's kinder, wiser and more loving. Gavin's explorations of desire and intimacy feel time-worn and necessary - songs that might teach a generation if not how to live, exactly, then at least how to look within oneself for guidance about how to move forward.

Katie Gavin's debut What A Relief taps into the unguarded self-possession and homespun pop sensibility of singers like Alanis Morissette, Fiona Apple and Ani DiFranco, and uses their tenacity as a north star for Gavin's own trek towards self-discovery. "This record spans a lot of my life - it's about having a really deep desire for connection, but also encountering all the obstacles that stood in my way to be able to achieve that, patterns of isolation or even boredom with the real work of love" they say. Written over the course of seven years, What A Relief comprises a set of songs that Gavin always loved but which "had something in them" that she and her bandmates felt didn't quite fit within the universe they were trying to cultivate with MUNA. Many of them were written on acoustic guitar, and are rooted in "a style of music that's very much in my blood, and natural for me," as typified by the Women & Songs CDs that Gavin loves, which compiled music by artists like Tracy Chapman, Tori Amos and Sarah McLachlan. That openness of spirit is the overwhelming character of What A Relief, an album that's refreshing in its willingness to accept people as they come, even as it remains in dogged pursuit of a life that's kinder, wiser and more loving. Gavin's explorations of desire and intimacy feel time-worn and necessary - songs that might teach a generation if not how to live, exactly, then at least how to look within oneself for guidance about how to move forward.

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

Don Heffington was a musician's musician. Starting his professional career in the late 70s and early 80s as a part of Emmylou Harris' Hot Band and seminal alt-country pioneers Lone Justice, Heffington went on to a session career that included work with Bob Dylan, Dwight Yoakam, The Jayhawks, Dave Alvin, The Wallflowers, and many, many more. Heffington was also a prolific songwriter, and here, his colleagues and friends pay loving tribute to those songs in a benefit for the Sweet Relief Musicians Fund (Heffington passed away in 2021 from Leukemia). Artists such as Jackson Browne, Fiona Apple, Buddy Miller, Dave Alvin, Watkins Family Hour, Peter Case, and others interpret Don's quirky songs. In the words of Jackson Browne: "I think of (Don) as inhabiting the same Los Angeles as Warren Zevon, Lowell George and Tom Waits.”

Tornado Wallace and Jamie Tiller present Heart Sphere, on their new imprint Basic Spirit. The first release "E.R. (Emergency Relief)", is a mid-tempo, cosmic trance manifestation with three revisions; Guitar Mix, Piano MIx, and the vinyl only Children Mix. For disciples of Big Room Balearic ™️, new-normal-beat, classic-trance, and George Clooney.

Mit der neuen Doppel-LP 'Long Distance Love - A Sweet Relief Tribute to Lowell George' hat Sweet Relief, die Organisation, die alle Arten von Berufsmusikern und Beschäftigten der Musikindustrie finanziell unterstützt, die mit körperlichen oder geistigen Problemen, Behinderungen oder altersbedingten Problemen zu kämpfen haben, ein Juwel vorgelegt.

Lowell George war der Gitarrenvirtuose, Sänger und Songschreiber von Little Feat. In dieser Sammlung von 25 Liedern interpretieren und spielen Künstler wie Elvis Costello, Ben Harper und Dave Alvin seinen vielfältigen Katalog. Der in Hollywood, Kalifornien, geborene George war Mitglied von Frank Zappas Mothers of Inventions, bevor er diese Band verließ und mit Bill Payne Little Feat gründete. Lowell gehörte der Band 7 Jahre lang bis zu seinem Tod an und veröffentlichte in dieser Zeit acht Alben. Obwohl George 1979 starb, lebt sein Vermächtnis durch dieses Album weiter.

Bitter Calm is a band from Birmingham, AL. They make music that one would call “sad”, but much like the torrential rains that punctuate their lives, it’s a different kind of sad— less like a breakup at the dinner table and more like a breakup in the atmosphere. Deeply, loudly, profoundly sad.

Inspired by MJ Lenderman, Songs: Ohia, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit and more, Bitter Calm's sophomore record is more about the destination than the journey— the destination being “hell” and the journey being “self-annihilation”. There is no relief to be found in the music itself save for the catharsis of accepting one’s own hopelessness. The relief comes from the fact that the songs were ever written, recorded, and performed in the first place.

On the other side of this endless descent, descent, descent... something beautiful happened. With support from violinist Meg Ford, bassist Alex Guin, and percussionist Chayse Porter— all Birmingham heavyweights in their own right— Harp eschews the uncomfortable trauma-dumping of his more whispery peers in favor of something darker, meaner, more “results oriented”. Building on the release of their debut LP, "Eternity In The Lake of Fire" is sure to solidify Bitter Calms place in Birmingham's tight-knit indie scene.

Valuable reissue of slow Italo classic! Roberto Onofri, since he was a teenager, has developed his own culture independently. Whatever he liked to do, he immediately embodied it, instantly identifying with what he was passionate about. However, one certainly cannot expect the sixteen-year-old and self-taught disc jockey to be ready as a composer for his first time in a recording studio. He became an author, arranger and performer shortly after, but for his first experience on vinyl he had to resort to a cover, as many did to get noticed and have the limelight on him. There was no mistake in choosing 'Living with Passion'' by the Canadian band Moral Support, but only how to write the title of the piece on the album cover!!! At the time, not all Italian printers knew English well, which is why Italo Disco soon became sadly famous for the huge blunders that were written. It was love at first sight for Roberto, who played the song written and produced by Richard Cranford and Sandro Durante every night in the disco. There were some imperfections due to inexperience, but the electronics, more and more imperious and overwhelming, won over everything, effectively decreeing the beginning of a new musical style. The Italian one. Dave Mathmos did well to have the same passion as Onofri and his DJ Program Band, developing an excellent version that gave new life to the piece from 40 years ago, reprinted by Best Record in two different and limited editions, in black vinyl and in green vinyl with black shades. Both editions come out with the artwork and credits in relief and with the image of the very young DJ Onofri immortalized next to a drum kit with the microphone in his hand, ready as always to make people jump and have fun.

Valuable reissue of slow Italo classic! Roberto Onofri, since he was a teenager, has developed his own culture independently. Whatever he liked to do, he immediately embodied it, instantly identifying with what he was passionate about. However, one certainly cannot expect the sixteen-year-old and self-taught disc jockey to be ready as a composer for his first time in a recording studio. He became an author, arranger and performer shortly after, but for his first experience on vinyl he had to resort to a cover, as many did to get noticed and have the limelight on him. There was no mistake in choosing 'Living with Passion'' by the Canadian band Moral Support, but only how to write the title of the piece on the album cover!!! At the time, not all Italian printers knew English well, which is why Italo Disco soon became sadly famous for the huge blunders that were written. It was love at first sight for Roberto, who played the song written and produced by Richard Cranford and Sandro Durante every night in the disco. There were some imperfections due to inexperience, but the electronics, more and more imperious and overwhelming, won over everything, effectively decreeing the beginning of a new musical style. The Italian one. Dave Mathmos did well to have the same passion as Onofri and his DJ Program Band, developing an excellent version that gave new life to the piece from 40 years ago, reprinted by Best Record in two different and limited editions, in black vinyl and in green vinyl with black shades. Both editions come out with the artwork and credits in relief and with the image of the very young DJ Onofri immortalized next to a drum kit with the microphone in his hand, ready as always to make people jump and have fun.

2024 Reissue

Dark Entries celebrates its 15th anniversary by returning to where it all started, our initial darkest entry: Eleven Pond’s masterpiece Bas Relief, an ultra-obscure album from 1986 that would become a definitive dark pop holy grail. Eleven Pond was James Tabbi (vocals, acoustic guitar), Jeff Gallea (drum machine, synthesizer, vocals), Jack Schaeffer (guitar) and Dan Brumley (synthesizer, samples, vocoder, melodica). They met in Rochester, NY, while attending art school, brought together by their shared love of 4AD and Factory Records. Taking cues from acts like Joy Division, Fad Gadget, and For Against, Eleven Pond’s infectious basslines, churning guitar riffs, and atmospheric synths will charm all fans of moody music. But what really makes Bas Relief shine is the timeless songwriting on classics like “Tear and Cinnamon”, “Portugal”, and the anthemic “Watching Trees.”

With only 500 copies in it’s initial release, Bas Relief resurfaces with a fresh remaster that corrects a pitch shift from previous reissues. Each copy is housed in a screen printed jacket, like the 1986 edition, and includes a lyric sheet, two postcards and a bookmark. Bas Relief is a true lost relic of the cold 80’s and an essential piece Dark Entries history.

Brian Harden is a second generation Chicago House head, starting in 1995 under the wings of Glenn Underground, being part of the legendary Strictly Jaz Unit. His work on Detroit's Mike Grant and his Moods & Grooves label should also be noted.

One of his most famous works is his second EP on Cajmere's Relief Records, originally issued in 1996. The EP contains some of the most prolific drum machine action ever committed to vinyl and stands for the sound that brought Chicago House on top of the underground Music map in the mid 90s.

All four tunes have been carefully remastered from the original material for maximum club performance!

Roy Brooks began his career in the 1950s and remained at the forefront of the US jazz scene until his death in 2005, starting with the Horace Silver combo in the early 1960s and continuing with the bands of such eminent artists as Stanley Turrentine, Yusef Lateef and Charles Mingus.
He was also a member of the legendary Detroit spiritual jazz label TRIBE and M'Boom (a cutting-edge project in which all members were percussionists) led by legendary drummer Max Roach, and had a huge impact on the US jazz scene.
Roy Brooks And The Artistic Truth, a spiritual jazz group led by Roy Brooks himself, is a group of highly purified Blackness and sharpened spirituality!

This is the ultimate in spiritual jazz, praised as one of the rarest, most spiritual and grooviest albums of all time, The tension-filled sound with strong black musicians such as Joe Bonner (Piano), Reggie Workman (Bass), Sonny Fortune (Alto Sax) and Cecil Bridgewater (Trumpet) is as "ultimate" as "ETHNIC EXPRESSIONS". A definitive spiritual jazz album!

Ein sehr persönliches soziopathisches Juwel, das als futuristische Interpretation der Funktionsweise von Musik geliefert wird, eine melodiöse Brise mit einem Hauch von giftigem Lärm. Ein Album mit zehn Songs, dazu ihr zehntes Studiowerk. Die Gegenüberstellung des Konzepts des `dunklen Sonnenscheins', eine brütende Solo-Platte, auf der Kristin Hersh zusammen mit Freunden ihre klangliche Vision erweitert; ein quietschender Mix aus disharmonischer Schönheit, Rückkopplung und Phasenkreisel von einfach klirrender Normalität. Man stelle sich Dinosaurier Jr. und My Bloody Valentine vor, die Dylan Verse vertonen. Mit beiden Extremen des Klangspektrums: atonal und arrhythmisch, ein einzigartiger Sound und eine glorreiche Rückkehr zur Form für eine der wahren Innovatorinnen des Alternative Rock. "Imagine truly buying your own sunshine and charm, but also your darkness and violence; the two sides of your psychology showing each other off in relief. Songs can do that...we can't, really. Darkness we've seen." - Kristin Hersh, July 2018 "She's still as powerful a presence as she ever was." - Pitchfork "The prodigious output and commitment to quality is pretty staggering, but then Kristin Hersh is a very, very special musician." - The Quietus

London-based Lewi Boome brings his class to this new release on Well Street, strictly limited to just 100 copies so you better act fast! 'Dust Devil' opens with a deft touch - the pinging synth lines and airy drum loops suspending you in a tripped-out world of futurism. That cerebral style continues through the lithe and elegant, dubbed-out rhythms of 'Etched Alive' and the more unsettling moods of jungle-techno cut 'Tumble', complete with distant bird calls and humid pads. 'Deep Sheer' rounds out with a little more low-end grit as the fourth and final cut on a superb EP.

Almax und Forte is a side project of Synths Versus Me and India Nardone. The 5 tracks of the debut EP are a puzzle of styles and unexpected disruptive compositions, resulting in an innovative new type of sound. The EP closes with a heavy remix by Ancient Methods, globally known for his banger industrial techno tracks. Presented in ONE-OFF truly limited edition of 300 copies lacquered pressed on 180 gr. high quality solid BLACK vinyl. All tracks have been specially mastered for vinyl by Daniel Hallhuber at Young and Cold Studios (Germany). Includes inmediate digital download.

"Androids may not yet dream of electric sheep, but maybe computers do sing sad songs."

In 2013, Tzoukmanis released ‘Hope Is The Sister Of Despair’, issued here for the first time on vinyl with 4 previously unreleased tracks.
The album was made following the end of a relationship and the happy/sad feeling is everywhere in this music. Sequences twinkle and nag, soft pads pour balm on tired ears and when drums do appear they provide an intimate framework rather than a call to the dance floor. The album taps into a rich vein of sequencer romanticism, from Tangerine Dream-obsessed-‘Berlin School’ daydreamers to the whole nebula of music inspired by Warp’s Artificial Intelligence series. It also looks forward, prefiguring the return today, in troubled times, to the comforting inner space of ‘90s-worshipping ambient techno.

The German word ‘weltschmerz’, roughly translating as ‘world sadness’, fits this music well. The melancholy it inspires feels collective, almost heartening. Sorrow might be said to infuse the technology’s basic building blocks – Leibniz’s binary ‘one’ bereft of its ‘zero’, its presence twinned with absence. But there is hope, too, in the network of actions and decisions that have been fashioned here into melody and rhythm.

Marco Beltrami and Buck Sanders' score to the zom-rom-com Warm Bodies faced a tall order: their music had to balance genuinely scary moments, romantic moments, bits of comic relief, and convey the quiet despair of a post-apocalyptic world. The duo delivers on all counts: highlights include the quirky, wittily named "Music for Airports," the strangely poignant "Zombie Bros," tense cues such as "Run for It," and hopeful tracks like "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." Elsewhere, "Admission to Dream" and "Looking for Julie/Balcony Serenade" add more depth and atmosphere to the proceedings . Marco Beltrami and Buck Sanders have collaborated in creating numerous soundtracks, including that of The Hurt Locker, for which they received an Oscar nomination for the best soundtrack in 2010.

January 2023, Dorset. Snow is piled at the door, icy roads are closed, and Emily Cross is in a coffin. Not a setting typical for a rebirth. But for Loma, this is where they bring their band back from the brink. "It's like a demon enters the room, whenever we get together", writer, singer and instrumentalist Cross says of the struggle to bring new Loma music into the world. Following the release of their 2020 second album Don't Shy Away, Loma's three members were cast around the globe and the band-not for the first time-entered a deep sleep. Multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Dan Duszynski remained in his studio in Don't Shy Away's central Texas heart, but Cross, a UK citizen, moved to Dorset, and writer and instrumentalist Jonathan Meiburg left the US for Germany to research a book. In the pandemic years, even being in the same room was impossible, and attempts to start a new record faltered. The following winter, in an attempt to salvage the record and the band, Cross suggested they regroup in the UK, in the tiny stone house-once a coffin-maker's workshop-where she works as an end-of-life doula. With minimal recording gear and few instruments, Loma turned two whitewashed rooms into a makeshift studio, using a padded coffin as a vocal booth. It was a turning point. They scrapped much of what they'd made, letting a new place set a new course. The one-lane roads, hedgerows and dark skies of Dorset gave the new songs an ineffable but unmistakable Englishness. The band used the ruin of a 12th-century chapel as a reverb chamber-surprising hillwalkers who peeked in to find them singing to no one-and the sounds of Cross's chilly workshop wormed their way into the recording: a leaky pipe, a drummer's brushes on a metal lampshade, the voices left on an ancient answering machine. What emerged was How Will I Live Without A Body?: a gorgeous, unique, and oddly comforting album about partnership, loss, regeneration, and fighting the feeling that we're all in this alone. Many of its songs have a feeling of restless motion; faceless characters drift through meetings and partings, tangling together and slipping away. "I Swallowed A Stone" is like a nightmare with a happy ending; "How It Starts" and "Broken Doorbell" reflect on the challenge (and necessity) of wrestling with agoraphobia. Though the record nods to the trio's separate lives- a German percussion ensemble, a pair of Texan owls, and the surf at Chesil Beach make guest appearances-the core of Loma's sound remains intact: earthy, organic and deeply human, anchored by Cross's cool, clear voice. Loma's previous album, Don't Shy Away, was galvanized by the unexpected encouragement and contributions of Brian Eno. This time, they found inspiration in another hero, Laurie Anderson, who offered a chance to work with an AI trained on her entire body of work. Meiburg sent her a photo from his book-in-progress about the once and future life of Antarctica; Anderson's AI responded with two haunting poems. "We used parts of them in a few songs," he says. "And then Dan noticed that one of its lines, 'How will I live without a body?' would be a perfect name for the album, since we nearly lost sight of each other in the recording process." In the end, Loma's efforts to reconnect with one another are the album's central focus: what do you owe a shared past, when everyone and everything has changed? "Making this record tested us all," says Duszynski. "I think that feeling was alchemized through the music." Alchemized, because How Will I Live Without A Body? is by no means a stressed-out record: an undercurrent of deep calm runs through it. But maybe 'relaxed' isn't the right word. It's more like a feeling of relief, of making it through a tough journey together.

The Dutch-American legend Orlando Voorn is back on the block with a very, very yummy 4-tracker that is masterfully channeling his deep love for Detroit techno and Chicago house. “No Cellphones” recalls Green Velvet’s classic Relief Records sound, applying a sinister bouncer voice that commands everybody to put their f***ing cellphones away. It’s quite a tantalising idea to drop this tune at an Afterlife party. “Raise The Bar” is a primo minimal heater for prime time usage, classic Voorn intensity through and through. The flipside harbors two gorgeous, summerly house tracks with plenty of soul for those sun flooded festival floors. Orlando Voorn reigns supreme.

Die niederländisch-amerikanische Legende Orlando Voorn ist zurück mit einem wirklich sehr schmackhaften 4-Tracker, der seine tiefe Liebe für Detroit Techno und Chicago House meisterhaft kanalisiert. „No Cellphones“ erinnert an den klassischen Relief Records-Sound von Green Velvet, mit einer düsteren Türsteher-Stimme, die allen befiehlt, ihre f***ing Handys wegzulegen. Es ist eine ziemlich verlockende Idee, dieses Stück auf einer Afterlife-Party zu spielen. „Raise The Bar“ ist ein erstklassiger Minimalheizer für die Primetime, klassische Voorn-Intensität durch und durch. Die Flipside beherbergt zwei grandiose, sommerliche House-Tracks mit viel Soul für die sonnenüberfluteten Festival-Floors. Orlando Voorn liefert.

My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross, ANOHNI"s sixth studio album, expresses a world view by shape-shifting through a broad range of subject matter. Through a personal lens, ANOHNI addresses loss of loved ones, inequality, alienation, acceptance, cruelty, ecocide, devastation wrought by Abrahamic theologies, Future Feminism, and the possibility that we might yet transform our ways of thinking, our spiritual ideas, our societal structures, and our relationships with the rest of nature. On her first full album since 2016"s HOPELESSNESS, she explains the creative process was painstaking, yet also inspired, joyful, and intimate, a renewal and a renaming of her response to the world as she sees it. "Some of these songs respond to global and environmental concerns first voiced in popular music over 50 years ago." ANOHNI"s approach since her last record has shifted from someone tasked with challenging global denial, to an artist seeking to support others on the front lines. "I learned with HOPELESSNESS that I can provide a soundtrack that might fortify people in their work, in their activism, in their dreaming and decision-making. I can sing of an awareness that makes others feel less alone, people for whom the frank articulation of these frightening times is not a source of discomfort but a cause for identification and relief. On "It Must Change," ANOHNI soulfully describes systems in collapse with a note of compassion for humanity: "The truth is I always thought you were beautiful in your own way // That"s why this is so sad." ANOHNI"s voice is sensual and smoothed, selectively reaching to the edges of what it can contain. "We"re not getting out of here // No one"s getting out of here // This is our world," she murmurs. A portrait of legendary human rights activist Marsha P. Johnson taken by Alvin Baltrop features on the cover, reflecting a 25-year relationship with the memory of Johnson that ANOHNI has held space for in the presentation of her own work. Elsewhere, the album artwork states "IT"S TIME TO FEEL WHAT"S REALLY HAPPENING". In some ways it feels as if she is reaching across her life"s expression, and has found a moment of unique composure, wearing her long exploration of disarming intensity, with the maturity of a painter carefully choosing her colors. "I want the work to be useful, to help others move through these conversations we are now facing, to move with dignity and resilience through this bitter dawning."

East of Ely is Miracle Mile's first album since 2012 - It was largely written on the Suffolk coast and later recorded between London and Norfolk - Both Trevor and Marcus found bucolic bliss in coastal retreat - The detachment informed the writing process and limited the palette to primary colours - You won't be dancing but we hope that the songs offer some kind of balmy relief to your day.

"Trevor Jones finds the poetry in real life; Marcus Cliffe anchors it in the sweetest pop. Gorgeous as ever. You may cry." - The Sunday Times

Deluxe 180g vinyl. Art Edition LP includes set of six 12”x12” art cards.



The follow-up to Kee Avil's acclaimed 2022 debut Crease: "A stunning debut" (The Quietus); "A whiplash style of uninhibited exploration" (The Wire); "Kee Avil's debut is a force" (Foxy Digitalis); "A work of Frankensteinian wonder" (Electronic Sound); "A tightly coiled, finely wrought vision of avant-pop" (Exclaim); "A debut of fiendish creativity" (Bandcamp Album Of The Day / Albums Of The Year) Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk… and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements - guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months - a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. - jj skolnik

Not God is the new album from Chicago's beloved two-headed monster, Finom (fka Ohmme). You can ask them to go into more detail about the boring reasons why they changed their name, but for now, the answer is going to be polite refusal. No. Co-fronted by Sima Cunningham and Macie Stewart, Finom's influences run vast and varied, and they put a premium on change. Produced by Jeff Tweedy in the Wilco Loft, Not God is a marvel of growth, a progression from the roots of this collaborative band whose history can be traced back to its improvised conception. This is owed in no small part to their hometown of Chicago, the life raft to so many persisters in musical adventurosity. That energy combined with Finom's dramatic vocal and musical gifts puts them in the peripheries of the legacies cemented by The Roches, Roxy Music, the B52s, Kate Bush, Cate Le Bon, and Wilco. Cunningham and Stewart are brilliant harmonizers, but harmony doesn't equate to a utopia. In Finom's maws harmony can also be a fight, holding the line until the volcano erupts. This realistic depiction of a creative relationship jolts throughout the songs of Not God, and brings the whole damn thing to life. Finom are more than one person with more than one dream. But still, they grow together, harnessed by their shared love of pop songwriting, control, chaos, and being generally freaky-deaky. Freaky in that way that is only really fun when you're doing it with a friend. As the globe spins and advancements advance, it can feel essential to return to relationships that make us feel whole, that generate energy of strength and relief. Which puts double the weight on the reality that Sima and Macie continue to pledge allegiance to each other, at the base of the volcano, in the front seat of the car as it pulls off the highway.

Red Rot ist die Extrem-Metal-Band von Luciano Lorusso George und Davide Tiso, ehemals Ephel Duath, und ihr Folgealbum "Borders of Mania" ist ein
unerbittliches Werk von technischer Schönheit und knüppelnder Anmut. Red Rot ist eine physische Band, die einen direkt in den Bauch trifft, sobald
man auf Play drückt. Als Luciano und Davide beschlossen, die Band zu gründen, hatten sie diesen großen, rauen Sound im Kopf: Die Essenz von Red
Rot war schon lebendig, bevor die Songs geschrieben waren. Dröhnende Gitarren, die den Zuhörer wie ein Sack Ziegelsteine attackieren, natürlich
klingende Extrem-Metal-Schlagzeuger, ein schwerer, runder Bass, der Gitarren und Schlagzeug miteinander verbindet, und eine Stimme, die wie eine
verrückte Predigt wirkt, die in deinem Kopf in einer Schleife läuft. Red Rot hat auch einen gebrochenen, maskulinen Sinn für Untergang. Es ist die Art
von Dunkelheit, die greifbar und direkt in deinem Gesicht ist. Die fünfzehn Songs auf "Borders of Mania" sind musikalisch intensiv, roh und
leidenschaftlich, aber mit einer facettenreichen Eleganz, die Red Rot für Fans von radikaler und harter Musik quer durch das Spektrum interessant
macht.

London-based four-piece Adult Jazz announce their first full-length album in a decade, So Sorry So Slow, out 26 April 2024 via Spare Thought. Alongside the announcement comes lovesick new single ‘Suffer One’ featuring Owen Pallett, a cautious excavation of self and sexuality, clambering across a gorgeously shapeshifting, filmic five-minutes.

Containing some of the band’s most abrasive but gentle, beautiful and melismatic work to date, So Sorry So Slow has many defining characteristics: romance, panic, devotion and remorse, threaded together by an intentionally laser-focused love. It’s deeply personal, bruised and candid in its expressions of tenderness, and deeply pained in its concurrent reflections of ecological regret. Across its hour-long runtime, a delicate, frenetic energy and glacial heaviness coexist, the band pitting those paces against one another. In their richly experimental timbre, dancing strings and fluttering falsettos prang against a bed of brass drones like a wounded bird.

“We started writing in 2017 and began recording in 2018,” says vocalist Harry Burgess. “We genuinely thought it might be finished in 2018! But things kept developing and, having resolutely not struck while the iron was hot, there was no real external push to rush things after that, so we just kept letting things shift and unfold until it felt right. Listening back to my voice notes it’s nice to notice that there are fragments of ideas from the whole period 2017-2023 which have shaped the record.”

Recorded in bursts at studios across London and in the band members’ flats, at Konk, on the Isle of Wight and in Sussex, So Sorry is unambiguous in its evolution. Sonically, there are sparks of the arrhythmic brightness that afforded the band’s critically acclaimed debut album Gist Is its cult adoration, for fans of Arthur Russell and Meredith Monk, but with a blossoming, melancholic darkness often overhead. Piano sprees and luscious string sections appear like low-hanging stars on a night-time drive, whilst plunging vocal distortions and humming brass loops resurrect heavy limbs in a bad dream.

“I usually have objects as kind of totems for ideas,” explains Burgess. “The album initially started out to do with performance… the totem was a head mic, one of the subtle skin-tone ones, discreet on the forehead of a West End star. A number of the first songs in their original forms were almost musical theatre piano ballads. I think that was really a device to write about my life as the ‘main character’ (pre internet-speak reframing): regrets about romance, relationships - unsustainable relationships with the self and others.”

“However, once we started writing, the ideas about unsustainable personal relationships, loving unevenly and heartbreak conflated with a more expressly ecological regret. Like contending with big feelings of loss, endings, beauty, desolation, and with how much joy the earth contains in it. Feeling so much gratitude bound up in waves of sadness. Maybe witnessing a slow-motion goodbye to all that, or its last gasps. I love the earth and the life it supports so much. I love how ecosystems fit together - even the brutal stuff. It may be basic to say, but now is the time to be laser focused on that love. I was thinking about human centrality on earth, us as the ‘main character’, the way that is served by faith and romanticism, and the subsequent disingenuous understandings of our position in the ecosystem, as only stewards somehow, rather than subjects. The totems at this point: a herald’s horn, lorry inner tubes, archaeological tools. I guess from doom, industry, history respectively.”

“Now I would say the record is about gripping. Totems being: crampons, rope, drips, desalination equipment, accruing various survival tech. I think gripping sums up both of the threads. There’s the emotionally correct clinging to the earth that is the substrate of everything we value, or the delusional clinging to our imagined dominant position. But also the practical, technological aspects of creating a sustainable relationship, of remaining here. Then I think of romance again.”

So Sorry So Slow comes out 26th April 2024 on Spare Thought, mixed by Fabian Prynn at 4AD Studios and mastered by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road.

Adult Jazz is Harry Burgess, Tim Slater, Steven Wells and Tom Howe.

Kee Avil's music is both adventurous and intimate, intellectually challenging and emotionally resonant. The Montréal guitarist and producer's 2022 debut LP Crease garnered plaudits from outlets like The Wire, The Quietus, Mojo and Foxy Digitalis, picking up a Canadian Juno Award nomination and Bandcamp Album Of The Day and Albums Of The Year along the way. Its intricate construction, unnerving atmospheres, and knife-edge take on avant-pop prompted comparisons to early PJ Harvey, This Heat, and Gazelle Twin. A remix EP with work by claire rousay, Ami Dang, Cecile Believe, and Pelada brought collaborative perspectives to four Crease tracks, offering new pathways within those songs. With Spine, Kee Avil strips back her heavily textured compositions, opening up a much rawer sound. She calls it folk—and while traditionalists might scoff, this is urgent music that reflects the precarity of modern life, as well as the jarring mixture of electronic and real-world interactions that have become the fabric of our day-to-day experiences. There's a hypnotic post-punk somnambulance to it all, using the repetition and fracturing of melodic phrases interwoven with delicate electronics to create curious and persistent hooks. While not a concept album, themes of time's passage, remembrance, and decay crop up across multiple tracks. Each track intentionally only has four elements—guitar, electronics, and two other instruments, with Kee's voice and guitar pushed to the front. Within this minimalist framework, the juxtaposition of beauty and discomfort that is key to the Kee Avil sound stands out in skin-prickling relief. "We're shaped by many versions of ourselves," says Avil. "I was looking back at these versions of myself and what could have been, what didn't end up being and what did end up being, and going back like that through time. Seeing the future, the past." Spine was written in Kee Avil's home studio after a lapse in writing while touring Crease and working on other projects. She is a well-known and respected member of the Montréal experimental scene, and formerly ran Concrete Sound Studio with Zach Scholes, who continues to work with her as a producer on Spine. Compared to the three years that went into making her debut, Spine emerged in a matter of months—a process that may also be a factor in its intensity and sharpness: "This record was much harder, like it was really discovering everything from scratch." In her desire to not simply replicate or extend the sound of Crease, she felt she had to rip up the rule book, write in a different way, and pare back songs against her usual instincts. Sometimes, when we work against our ingrained habits, we get to the core of who we really are. Spine is an exercise in that process. Without over-intellectualizing or being didactic, it hits immediately and emotionally, especially if you are a person who has spent much time in the process of self-examination. Kee's voice hisses, whispers, and chants; her guitar bends and rings; electronics skitter and crackle; violin creaks like a door in the wind. There is something so evocative about the atmospheres she creates that it's easy to overlay one's own feelings onto her work, but to do that wholly would be to overlook one of the most important things about Spine: Kee Avil's clear and thoughtful vision. This isn't just the next step forward in her artistic trajectory; it's a stunner of a record that stands on its own, a bracing and thrilling listen that has much to reveal about the contradictions inherent in being human. — jj skolnik.

I Know I'm Funny haha is Webster's most realized manifestation yet of this emotional and musical alchemy. Continuing to bloom from her 2019 breakthrough and Secretly Canadian debut Atlanta Millionaires Club, Webster's sound draws as much from the lap-steel singer-songwriter pop of the 1970s and teardrop country tunes as it does from the audacious personalities of her city's rap and R&B community. The album began for Webster with the stirring ballad "In a Good Way," as in "You make me want to cry in a good way"_an instantclassic Faye Webster one-liner. It's beguilingly simple, the kind of melody and arrangement that seem to have existed forever. A sense of relief charges the neo-psychedelic pop of "Cheers," where Webster experiments with an overdriven guitar tone. She also collaborated, on "Overslept," with the Japanese artist Mei Ehara, who she calls the biggest influence on her new music. Webster's music is full of personality. Many of her songs contain bits of girl-group-esque talk-singing, which color her atypical storysongs. Webster says she's in a growth mindset, pushing herself to learn more, to be more vulnerable. "Growth is really important to me," she says. "I hope people will relate to my songs, and not just be like `this is a good record' but `this makes me feel something. This is making me think differently, this is making me question things.' I told myself a few years ago that I was going to be more honest in my songwriting, that honesty is the best route to take with music. If I have a voice and people are listening to me, I'm not going to waste it."

How do you follow up a work described in the Independent on Sunday as “the best debut album since Marquee Moon”? That’s the question facing singer-songwriter John Canning Yates, twenty years on from the critically acclaimed ‘The First Album’ by his band Ella Guru.
‘The Quiet Portraits’ will appeal to anyone who loves the beautiful melodic soundscapes woven by Brian Wilson, Burt Bacharach, and Tom Waits, while Yates’s unique vocals evoke the emotional fragility and compelling narrative of Neil Young, Paul Buchanan, Mark Linkous and Elliott Smith.
Mastered by Jason Mitchell (PJ Harvey, Robert Forster), and featuring guest contributions from pedal steel maestro BJ Cole and friend and multi-instrumentalist Andy Frizell (Kevin Ayers, Wizards of Twiddly), those dedicated followers of Ella Guru who stayed the path will find their patience very well rewarded. ‘The Quiet Portraits’ is a remarkable achievement from an unassuming, yet hugely talented artist.

It’s a welcome relief amid the rapidly changing musical landscape to find that all that has changed in John’s world is the number of musicians around him. The beautiful storytelling, the art of finding those magical musical moments that will remain with you for years to come: all of that has survived the passing of time intact.
Happiest with headphones on, working alone in the small hours from his Liverpool home, Yates has created another masterpiece.
He explains: “In the wee small hours, with loved ones safely asleep and the busy day done, there comes a hush. Within it, you can breathe and listen. Listen for the infinite possibilities. From those possibilities emerged these portraits. I have sought to find those precious moments: of love and peace in turbulent times, of truth and hope for calmer days ahead. I hope you find them too.”
Entitled ‘The Quiet Portraits,’ the new solo album from John Canning Yates tells tales of people and places, of time, family, history, belonging, forgetting and remembering.

New year, new stars, same route. The final part of our VA series embodies a futuristic and meticulously crafted production of atmospheric and incessant techno.

Outstanding artists named Hadone, HWRD, Justine Perry and Quelza bringing their unique flair to the table to tell a profound story full of eclipsing soundscapes and eternal width. The four dark and intangible contributions are made to tear down floors whilst maintaining their sophistication and depth.

Out on April 5th - Make sure to grab your limited copy and be ready for the next one!

We are back for a second round with some friends and this time it smells like iodic spirit.

Halle Weissensee (or Weißensee if you wish) starts where Sascha Funke’s last Ep for Running Back stopped. Mesmerizing house and techno music that interweaves classic forms with modern means and looks through the lenses of nostalgia with an open mind.
The Halle was a former engine plant in Berlin that got converted into a rave areal for the now legendary Mayday raves and one of the birthplaces and leading spots of the nineties. Coincidentally and unknowingly, 1993’s winter edition was attended by Funke and Gerd Janson and a conversation about it spawned this record. Don’t be mislead: this is not a retro rave fest, but an ode to the esprit of the times, the possibilities if an envisioned future and maybe most of all an afterglow. While Reality (sounding like a Relief record if the label would have been a topic at Bauhaus university) and the warped bleepiness of Halle Weissensee itself come closest to the actual sound aesthetic of that very night, Fantasy invokes the language of contemplative deep house from vintage New York, while Puzzle evokes a notion of what the same thing could be with the prefix progressive instead. Reality often falls short behind fantasy, but once in a while both complement each other very well.