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Well-versed in vintage vernaculars, Oakland-based producer/musician Mike Walti is about to return with his sophomore offering under the Organi moniker – as new album “Babylonia” follows 2020’s “Parlez-vous Français?,” a landmark in vibe acquisition ever since.

Wyldwood Studios is a portal. It’s a secret gateway to analog spheres. Cross the threshold and you’ll feel the difference: you can pick any ol’ time, any place, any tongue or vibe, in fact. Hit the dancefloor in 1967, feel that plushy loveseat in the early 70s. It’s a welcoming place where better, saner vibes are still within reach. Fueled, at least in part, by those long-classic 12”s on the walls – just imagine the sepia-tinted countenance of Melody Nelson alongside actual Birkin sans wig, right next to Shadow’s immortal crate diggers, forever blurred –, and channeled through ancient time travel devices such as the MCI 416B only to arrive on classic 2-inch tape (MM1000 aka Ol’ Bessy), it’s a haven for all things organic, for all things imbued with that warm élan. Built and run by Oakland’s own Mike Walti, countless artists from many different genres have felt that flair, creating sonic spheres and moving back and forth along the malleable axis that is space-time. Capturing magic.

Emerging from this unique portal back in 2020, Walti’s aka Organi’s first studio album was a stunning answer to its titular question – “Parlez-vous Français?” It was a soothing, somewhat psychedelic trip so magnétique and alluring that it immediately brought back those bits of Franglais you never knew you remembered. Whereas the debut LP indeed felt like a spontané voyage to the French Riviera ca. 1968, its follow-up “Babylonia” is so much more than linguistic confusion and ancient Akkadian Rhythms. Using that hidden portal near Alameda’s finest port to access all kinds of remote regions and sonic spheres, it’s super tight and feels, well, decent, even though, just like the ol’ Babylon, it’s full of surprising tongues and dreams, schemes and melodies.

“Where do we go from here?,” someone asks in opening “Organii-“ – all majestically cinematic boom bap, buoyant bass, sick strings. A fittingly massive opener that feels like cracking open a cold one after long weeks at work (that ecstatic “ahhhh”), it perfectly sets the tone for another half hour of pure time traveling, globe-spanning bliss. Whereas that certain prédilection pour all things French makes “La Rockette” so tempting and tantalizing (think MalMalNonBien), the sophomore album’s Berlin-based guest singer Nana Lacrima soon takes us elsewhere: title track “Babylonia” spins ever so softly, like a magic lantern, with images of dreamier Stones Throw funksters or Savath y Savalas looming over the steady flow of an arrangement that washes you clean like an ancient, unpolluted River Euphrates or Brazil’s actual Amazon. A sexy Portuguese-flavored anthem, occasional guest singer Alix Koliha also enters the scene to add yet another layer of French chic to this Brazilian landscape. Next, we’re back at the Riviera, but the “Italiano” version of it, splendido sunsets and bell towers in the distance, the ragazze laughing and shaking it up, perhaps even some Portofino Gin so you can really feel that “me ne batto il belin,” as your fingers align form some half-serious “ma che vuoi?”

Tim Maia-penned “Padre Cicero” (1970) deals with the stunning transformation of the titular hero – “De reverendo a lutador,” and what a soaring, sensual hook –, and Organi’s take on Elephant Memory’s “Old Man Willow” (now an “Old Man Waltz”) perfectly underlines what Walti’s Wyldwood endeavor is all about: Easy-Going Experimental Dream Pop, fueled by Gainsbourg, Broadcast, Stereolab, etc.

Later on, even though something seems to be tres complique in “Remembering Anna,” it all sounds carefree like a spontaneous Friday afternoon with a bottle of fine wine. Right before the outro, key album guest Yea-Ming Chen (of Yea-Ming & The Rumors) returns to the mic, adding her dark and dusky trademark timbre to melancholy anthem “Pictures Of Your Face”. Reminiscent of Nico and Trish (rip & rip), it’s a track that’s both dark and strangely propelling, hypnotic and hip-shaking.

A third generation Bay Area native, Mike Walti aka Organi has been running Wyldwood Studios in Oakland CA for some 15+ years (recording artists like Tommy Guerrero, Spelling, Why?, Latyrx, Del, Dan The Automator, and Big Freedia, to name but a few). A multi-instrumentalist who’s obviously in love with the 60s/70s, he loves to work with analog equipment (“We just love us some analog!” “Just listen to those relays purr…”). Recorded and mixed by Mike Walti at Wyldwood, “Babylonia” will be released on vinyl/digital by Alien Transistor.

"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

San Jose slowcore/space rock outfit Duster returns with surprise album "In Dreams," continuing their of inclination of sonically capturing an open-ended question. These thirteen tracks hone in on their trademark dark, droning guitar tones, dialed back percussion, and alluring hard-panned vocals while expanding and exploring synth-heavy and drum machine avenues. it's the fifth duster album, ok

Aqua Tofana Colourless Vinyl. San Jose slowcore/space rock outfit Duster returns with surprise album "In Dreams," continuing their of inclination of sonically capturing an open-ended question. These thirteen tracks hone in on their trademark dark, droning guitar tones, dialed back percussion, and alluring hard-panned vocals while expanding and exploring synth-heavy and drum machine avenues. it's the fifth duster album, ok.

San Jose slowcore/space rock outfit Duster returns with surprise album "In Dreams," continuing their of inclination of sonically capturing an open-ended question. These thirteen tracks hone in on their trademark dark, droning guitar tones, dialed back percussion, and alluring hard-panned vocals while expanding and exploring synth-heavy and drum machine avenues. it's the fifth duster album, ok

The Fluid are arguably the great unsung band from the fertile underground rock scene of the late '80s and early '90s. The Denver five-piece - John Robinson (vocals), James Clower (guitar), Matt Bischoff (bass), Garrett Shavlik (drums), and the dear departed Ricky Kulwicki (guitar) - fused the fire of '80s hardcore with crunching Detroit protopunk, '60s garage rock, and '70s rock swagger. Think MC5, Faces, '70s Stones, all cranked up and really high on Sex Pistols and Black Flag singles. Rising from the ashes of early-'80s Denver bands Frantix (whose "My Dad's a Fuckin' Alcoholic" is a true gem of American punk) and White Trash, The Fluid were the first non-Seattle band to sign to Sub Pop, and Clear Black Paper was the second full-length album the label ever released. The label honchos were fans of Frantix, and happily got involved with The Fluid when the opportunity arose via the label's European licensing partner, Glitterhouse. Witnessing The Fluid's dominant live presence helped - a particularly fiery early show at Seattle's Central Tavern featured The Fluid, Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, and Soundgarden all trying to outdo one another on stage. The band fit right in on Sub Pop's nascent roster of acts who, wherever they stood on the spectrum of punk/rock/metal, shared a commitment to thunderous riffs and explosive live shows. Legendary for their ferocious stage presence, The Fluid toured all over the US and Europe, holding their own and then some on bills with Mudhoney, Nirvana, Soundgarden, Dinosaur Jr., and other powerhouses of the era. From 1986 to 1993, The Fluid put out four albums and a number of EPs and singles, including a split 7" with Nirvana in 1991, before doing one album for a major label and promptly disbanding. Yet, while their partners-in-crime bulldozed into the mainstream, The Fluid remained something of a cult band, their audience confined to those who got hip during the band's existence, and crate diggers who nabbed original vinyl or CDs, which had quickly become rarities after selling through their original runs. Why? Record industry machinations? The fickle finger of pop culture? Being from Denver, not Seattle? Who the hell knows_ and who cares! The point is the band ripped, and the world deserves to hear them again. The Fluid took influences they shared with their contemporaries and ran in their own direction, focused on ass-shaking grooves more than misanthropic sludge. Rock anthems like "Cold Outside" sit alongside Stooge-oid rhythmic poundings ("Black Glove"), bluesy romps ("Leave It"), the occasional grungy dirge ("Wasted Time"), and raw punk bangers ("Is It Day I'm Seeing?" from the seminal 1988 Sub Pop 200 compilation). The band wasn't shy about their inspiration, either: scattered through their catalog are covers of The Troggs, The Rolling Stones, MC5, Iggy Pop and James Williamson, and Rare Earth. The Fluid stand out as champions of a feral, urgent, exuberant approach to rock 'n roll. As it turns out, that wasn't a recipe for stardom in the era of hyper-slick pop, boomer dinosaurs crying tears in heaven, and hair-metal power-ballads. But someone had to do it. To set things right, Sub Pop, The Fluid, and producer Jack Endino (Nirvana, Soundgarden, High on Fire, Mudhoney) teamed up to refresh and reissue The Fluid's entire indie-label catalog: their 1986 debut, Punch N Judy; 1988's Clear Black Paper; 1989's Roadmouth; the 1990 Glue EP (produced by Butch Vig, of Nevermind fame); and a treasure trove of rarities and previously unreleased material. All the music has been remastered from original tapes by Endino and JJ Golden, and the bulk of it has been meticulously remixed by Endino and the band, righting some sonic quirks that diminished the impact of the original records. Now, with their definitive material sounding better than ever, it's high time The Fluid get their due.

'Distorted Clamor', the latest full-length album from legendary Spanish ambient composer Suso Saiz. Marking his eighth release with our label, the album showcases Saiz at his spellbinding best, continuing a prolific creative phase in a career that spans over 40 years.

Building upon 'Resonant Bodies' and 'Nothing Is Objective', his most recent full length releases for Music From Memory, Saiz's dedication to experimentation and conceptual approach to sound lie at the centre of 'Distorted Clamor'.

Discussing his process and the concept behind the album, Saiz says: “Thousands of beings cry out for their lives, for the sustainability of their habitats, for their future. Their

clamouring together generates a distorted, deafening and incomprehensible noise. Trying to go deeper into that distortion and understand all the voices and discover the strength and beauty in all of them. This was the first image I had when I started composing Distorted Clamor. Can distortion and all those sounds (clicks, clips, ticks, tocs, pluks, crashes) that we normally discard, generate beauty? This question has also accompanied the entire whole project.”

The transit of sound through various materials is also central to the work, with Saiz using water, wood, and metals as filters and sound-transforming pedals. The album was created without the use of synthesizers, relying entirely on acoustic sounds that were transformed in an unnatural way to achieve something completely new.

Spanning eleven compositions, Saiz's mastery of timbre and ability to paint layers of sound with the subtlest of touches stand out unmistakably to the listener. As always, his radiant drones are a nest of hidden feelings; they glisten with complex emotions and textures, teasing out moods of vulnerability and hope.

Sleeve art and design by Michael Willis.

San Jose slowcore / space rock outfit Duster return with surprise album, ‘In Dreams’, continuing theirinclination of sonically capturing an open-ended
question.

These thirteen tracks hone in on the band’s trademark dark, droning guitar tones, dialled back percussion, and alluring hard-panned vocals while expanding and exploring synth-heavy drum machine avenues.

It’s the fifth Duster album.

LP available on Aqua Tofana coloured vinyl and black vinyl.

San Jose slowcore / space rock outfit Duster return with surprise album, ‘In Dreams’, continuing theirinclination of sonically capturing an open-ended
question.

These thirteen tracks hone in on the band’s trademark dark, droning guitar tones, dialled back percussion, and alluring hard-panned vocals while expanding and exploring synth-heavy drum machine avenues.

It’s the fifth Duster album.

LP available on Aqua Tofana coloured vinyl and black vinyl.

How did Dexter make a TV audience sympathize with a serial killer? No question, it took an ingenious premise, great writing, great direction…and a stellar ensemble cast headed by lead actor Michael C. Hall. But long-time viewers of the show know there was another “character” that played a huge role in the series: the soundtrack. From Rolfe Kent’s unforgettable title theme to the well-chosen Latin-tinged tunes that fit the Miami setting to composer Daniel Licht’s brilliant themes, the score of Dexter commented on the action even as it amplified its emotional power. Special mention must be made of the late Licht’s work, which employed Latin and electronic elements to portray Dexter’s warm and cold sides; among the favorites here are “Astor’s Birthday Party” and the haunting “Blood Theme” that played over the credits in every episode. In 2007, the Milan label put out a CD and a truncated single-LP soundtrack album containing music from the first season; now, for the first time, we at Real Gone Music are offering all of the music that appeared on the CD in an expanded double-LP edition, pressed on blood with white swirl vinyl and housed inside an appropriately gory gatefold. Don’t miss Michael C. Hall’s spoken word pieces, either…perversely pleasurable listening, limited to 1500 copies!

Prairiewolf make easy listening music for an age of fracture. They almost do it in spite of themselves. No one can seriously question the head music bona fides of the members of this Colorado-based trio.

Guitarist Stefan Beck has already assembled a formidable discography of jewel-toned guitar zone-outs under his Golden Brown moniker. And keyboardist and guitarist Jeremy Erwin and bassist Tyler Wilcox have both made their reputations as chroniclers of the vast world of out-music. Erwin helms the indispensable Heat Warps blog, a performance-by-performance archive of Miles Davis’s labyrinthine electric period. And Wilcox has been covering the ragged edges of psychedelia and experimental rock at Aquarium Drunkard and other publications, not to mention his own virtual basement for heads, the great bootleg blog Doom and Gloom from the Tomb.

These guys come by it honestly. And yet, given their backgrounds, Prairiewolf’s self-titled debut last spring was remarkably free of face-melters, brown acid blowouts, and ascendant spiritual jazz odysseys. Instead, they dropped a record of beautiful, elegant, low-key cosmic groovers that sounded like the piped-in background music to a resort hotel on Jupiter. It was an unlikely psychedelia, brocaded with mid-twentieth century sonic threading from the hi-fi era: vintage synthesizers, smears of spaghetti western, luxe tropical details, the faint schmaltz of space age pop. Imagine something like a Harmonia residency in the airport lounge. And yet somehow it all worked brilliantly. Prairiewolf became last summer’s cool-down standard. After a year woodshedding around Colorado’s Front Range region, the Prairiewolf boys have fired up their trusty Korg SR-120 drum machine for another outstanding collection of suborbital exotica. The appropriately titled Deep Time operates in its own chronology, unspooling at its unhurried pace. All its incongruous period and stylistic references—the new age pulses, Hawaiian steel, shaggy hippie rambles, lysergic guitar spirals, and orchestral synthesizer flourishes—float atop the album’s own singular temporality. Deep Time makes its own time.

From the moment Beck folds his slide guitar, origami-like, into a sound resembling the call of gulls on the tranquil album opener, “Peach Blossom Paradise,” there is a sense of departure from everyday life. The shimmering “Lighthouse” has a similar sunbaked nonchalance, like an afternoon passed day-drinking in a seaside bar. That they named their lush, kaleidoscopic downtempo track “The Meander” pretty much says it all. The ranging, propulsive “Saying Yes to Everything” seems like a nod in the direction of Rose City Band’s brand of wookie krautrock. And the motorik noir of “Demon Cicadas in the Night” also goes hard. Beck and Erwin’s intertwined guitar jam on the eerie album standout “The Cold Curve” evolves into something that sounds like primitive computer music. A genteel bassline from Wilcox on another album highlight, “Revisionist Mystery,” sets the stage for a loopy space jazz turn from guest clarinettist Matt Loewen of Rayonism. The title of post-rock cowboy tune “Another Tomorrow” might refer to the alternative future that so many critics heard in the music of Prairiewolf’s first album. Or it might simply refer to the persistence of time, however deep. Either way,

I’m thankful for the way Prairiewolf make each of their tunes a little oasis or sanctuary, each subsisting according to its own crystalline little logic for a few minutes. It is no simple task to filter out the omnipresent anger and anxiety of everyday life these days. But Prairiewolf are out here making it seem easy.

Brent S. Sirota

Includes 2 posters, digital download code and artwork sticker.

With chapter 29 of Violent Cases comes to you with a full EP by Pneumatix. Based in Romania, Pneumatix has been highly regarded across the scene for years for his storytelling live acts and as a gem in the creation of musical works of what Tribe means. With his new EP “The Cry Of Mankind” VC029 Pneumatix shows once again what it can mean when everything tonal becomes a smooth flow. Nevertheless, in his creations he succeeds in musically questioning the sickness of the world in which we live. Pure pleasure!

Mischievous festa punk meets astral steppas, kalaedoscopic free ambient meets harsh noise, scattered amen breaks with IDM and free jazz trumpets meets the earthly plod of digidub. It can only be Felinto from Sao Paulo.
UTOPIA MILHÃO honors the life forces that allow us to transform the darkness where dreams reside. The album brings a new moment of intimacy for Felinto's musical expression flowing through dirty, raw, dense and brilliant dub fractals, ready to transform unexpectedly into a new shape then another, and another, and another... featuring collaborations with magical people: Sarine (Deafkids), Douglas Leal (Deafkids), Guizado (Afrobombas), Sandra X, Paula Rebellato (Rakta), Lorena Hollander, Yao Bobby, Kiko Dinucci, Paulo Papaleo, Cint Murphy, Rodrigo Lima.
Felinto is a political agitator and musician at the heart of the São Paulo underground - a movement that confronts the various effects of the capitalist system of racial, sexual, ,,,,, and 22222 lawand material oppression.

His provocations range from yoga for children and parenting studies (SACYOGA), theatre (PROJETO CRIOULOS and PROJETO JAMES BALDWIN), web series highlighting the black presence in electronic music in São Paulo (MODULAÇÃO PRETA), reflective groups on gender violence and masculinities, occupation of public spaces for political art q(Coletivo Sistema Negro), artistic curatorship (Residência SOMSOCOSMOS) and studies with sound as a tool in conflict mediation practices. Felinto composes for film, theatre and immersive installations such as MEGACITIES presented at the National Gallery of Victoria, Canada in 2023.

He is currently researching - as part of a masters project in clinical psychology - the collectivised dream realities of black people. A field of action that contemporary anthropology, psychoanalysis and psychology call ONIROPOLITICA.

His interest in affinity groups, autonomous networks of micro-political articulation and penal abolitionism led him to the questions: what do black people dream about within the permanent context of civil war and state violence (like the one in Brazil)? How does this experience create dreams and how does the dream affect the construction of identities beyond the boundaries established by the capitalist unconscious?

Bastille melden mit einem neuen Album „&“ zurück! Es handelt sich um ein Soloprojekt von Dan, das
unter ‘Bastille Presents‘ erscheinen wird.
Das Album ist in jeder Hinsicht zurückhaltend, von der Musik bis zum Kreativen. Textlich schöpft das
Album aus den Geschichten interessanter Individuen und Charaktere im Laufe der Geschichte. Dan spricht
über das Album: ”Ich wollte eine schöne Sammlung von Story-Songs machen - mit dem Leben von verschiedenen interessanten Menschen - um über das Leben, mein Leben und menschliche Erfahrungen zu
sprechen. Diese Sammlung von Tracks klingt intim, organisch und anders, als die Leute es vielleicht
erwarten, und ich bin sehr stolz auf das Gesamtwerk.”

Label and collaborative musical collective, +33JOY announce their debut release, this first one from Bopperson & Bikbaye.

Born out of a meeting at New York’s annual Winter Jazz Festival, back in 2020, this 4 track EP entitled ‘The Wellness Project’ is a very personal project.

Neil Bopperson is a DJ, musician and producer originally from Yorkshire. Having travelled the world working as a DJ and chef, he landed in London for a while where he remixed afrobeat legend Dele Sosimi for Wah Wah 45s. Now residing in Paris, France, a sharer and carer of music in every aspect, he chooses not to follow trends but instead follow his heart, with variety being an essential part of his musical DNA.

Based in Los Angeles, Bikbaye Inejnema works as a cultural activist, writer, teacher, counselor and spoken word artist. He has a bachelor’s degree in Sociology boasting over ten years experience in social work. He works as a A.T.O.D. (alcohol, tobacco & other drugs) prevention specialist for Homeless Healthcare in L.A. He is also the Executive Director of The Conscious Youth Global Network (CYGN)

Bikbaye strives to utilize art to equip the youth with the skills to become positive, productive citizens. Focusing on diverse topics ranging from leadership development to financial literacy to health and nutrition, Bikbaye gives youth the tools they need to create empowered and enlightened content.
As Bikbaye says, “The goal is to flood the airwaves, the media, everywhere with enlightened art.”

This first release on +33JOY comes in the form of a collaborative project, with music coming predominantly from Neil, with a little help from some additional players - Sam Crowe; keys (Lianne La Havas, Little Simz & Native Dancer) and the saxophone of Nick Briggs; (Joel Culpepper, Poté & The Last Skeptik). All words and vocals are from Bikbaye.

After a chance meeting in NYC, where Bikbaye was hosting talks at The Winter Jazz Festival, speaking mainly about mental health and wellness in the music industry. His words really resonated with Neil, they connected and this EP is the outcome.

Sitting somewhere in the alternative hip hop world, music is used as a vessel for Bikbaye’s words to ring out. Upon being presented with Bikbaye’s recordings, Neil composed music and collected sound design accordingly.

Starting out the set is the stripped back ‘Wellness Is A Practice’, as the opener to proceedings the vocals take forefront and the message is clear. Found sound, an old crunchy keyboard and some guitar pulses keep the poem afloat.

‘Who Are You?’ raises important questions, directed at other artists and music industry professionals. Flute, choirs and spacy drums come together for an eerie and dubbed out moment.

Third track ‘Consumption’ conveys perhaps the most important memo on the release. Sam Crowe’s grand piano floats beautifully over the reading, really highlighting Bikbaye’s statements.

Finally, and with a more hopeful feel, ‘Changes’ was the last addition to the recording sessions. A sketch Neil had been sitting on for a while, DJ Bobafatt added some cuts and Nick Brigg’s sax solo opens this track out to a goosebumps inducing ending. The most upbeat of the four tracks serves as a perfect prelude to the club-ready remixes that will follow this release.

The first in a four-volume retrospective of Kuduro and tarraxinha pioneer DJ ZNOBIA. Incoming unto the world for a very long time from the musseke of Rangel, home of Casa da Mé&e Ju, in the Angolan capital o Ldanda, one if not the pivotal visionary of his country’s music electronic and digital modernism DJ Znobia, o/fum/an inventor. Usually considered the first purveyor of the fluency regarding tarraxinha (drinking in its foundational slow shuffle from the city of Benguela), as well as a main player in free thinking, spontaneous, funny, depressive, silly, melancholic, hilarious all encompassing beats within kuduro, batida, techno and beyond, his influence as a producer, DJ, MC and public fiuce has had a great imprint in Angolan culture for the better part of the last three ecades. This venture went through over 700 tracks of his archive (more than double are lost in the meantime between his and the NNT library) in order to collaboratively select a fiercely representative albeit balanced affair from his production, between instrumentals for sung kuduro, instrumental kuduro/batida, sung and instrumental tarraxinha, and other creative styling from the late 90’s to the mid 2000’s. Forms now heard around the world which started here, with Znobia a decisively influential contributor, along with several of his peers and collaborators, which will be also in evidence in this four volume retrospective. His story is way too far flung for this endeavor to try and make a simple narrative out of it. You have to be him, you have to be within this territory, and we ask of the people who will approach to ask him what has happened with the history of this music and what is the current reality at ground zero Luanda, as he is a mirror and visionary of its streets, in a country with such complicated dynamics and brutal treatment of its citizens. To try to put in a clean slate for this conversation, let’s talk to a genius of street music. Your question. First, here's the opening collection of what we have to share with you.

The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 compiles an unheard, previously unreleased body of recordings by Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz, dissidents from diametric backgrounds who met during the heady days of Downtown New York in the 1980s. This collection reveals the creative and life partners’ radical shared vision of avant-garde pop in all of its boundary pushing freedom, combining Deyhim’s singular approach to vocalization, Horowitz’s invention of new musical languages, and touchstones of traditional music from around the world, creating a new music that ultimately retains a voice entirely its own. Despite their difference in backgrounds and respective journeys, at the time of their meeting in the early 1980s in New York City, Sussan Deyhim and Richard Horowitz were both products of the search for freedom and understanding (and resultant awakenings) that swept the globe and helped culturally define the late 1960s and 70s. Deyhim, born and raised in Tehran, spent her teens dancing with Iran’s Pars National Ballet company, performing weekly on Iranian national television, and travelling her home country studying with master folk musicians and dancers, before relocating to Belgium and joining Maurice Béjart’s prestigious Béjart Ballet of the 20th Century. Horowitz, born and raised in Buffalo, New York, had spent much of the decade before abroad, first departing for Paris under the shadows of the Vietnam War, where he studied piano, Eastern philosophy, and became entrenched the city’s free jazz scene, playing with the likes of Steve Lacy, Anthony Braxton, and Alan Silva, before embarking south to Morocco where his friendship with Paul Bowles helped cultivate a deep passion for the country’s musical traditions and a shift in his musical practice.



The pair met by chance sometime in 1981 at Noise New York, a small studio on West 34th Street founded by the musician and recording engineer, Frank Eaton, as a utopian creative laboratory that beckoned artists and bands like Arthur Russell, Christian Marclay, Liquid Liquid and Butthole Surfers into its orbit. Both artists had recently relocated to the city, Horowitz having recently released his debut album, Oblique Sequences (Solo Nai Improvisations), on the legendary Paris based imprint Shandar, and fallen in with members of New York avant-garde like La Monte Young, Jon Hassell, David Byrne, and Brian Eno, and Deyhim having begun to more actively incorporate singing into her practice, notably recording a vocal score for choreography she was doing at La MaMa Experimental Theatre.



Initially bonding over a cassette tape of field recordings made by Paul Bowles that had been given to mutual friend and writer Brian Cullman (seeking answers for Ornette Coleman’s question “what is the sound of sound”), their earliest collaboration was documented on Horowitz’s 1981 album, Eros In Arabia, with Deyhim contributing vocals to the track “Queen Of Saba.” Over the coming years, their deep connection would routinely gravitate them into the studio, culminating in the body of recordings that would appear on their 1986 album for Crammed Discs, Desert Equations: Azax Attra. Unknown to nearly all but the artists, laying in wait over the decades on numerous multi-track and stereo reels, DAT tapes, and reference cassettes, were a vast array of recordings made by Deyhim and Horowitz bookending Desert Equations. The 13 pieces represented on The Invisible Road: Original Recordings, 1985–1990 were recorded largely between Noise New York and Daylight Studio in Brussels, during a period that Deyhim describes the partnership between herself and Horowitz’s as seeking a music “free of any specific cultural reference, with a personal musical signature,” blossoming into a body of sonority that embraced the energy of contemporary boundary pushing pop and the avant garde, filtered through their mutual love and study of various musical traditions from across the globe and deep engagement with the ideas and tactics of experimental music.



Undeniably rooted in Horowitz’s study of the North Africa ney and the music of the Berber and Gnawa cultures during his time in Morocco, Deyhim’s deep engagement with the folk traditions of Iran, and the couple’s immersion in the interconnected Downtown underground music scenes, each piece on The Invisible Road offers its own vision creative and cultural hybridity. Deyhim sings in both English and Farsi, as well as a composite tongue that she developed by drawing upon numerous indigenous vocal techniques from around the world, intuitively responding to Horowitz’s simultaneous sound syntax forming and combining a wide range synthetic and acoustic instrumentation, and experimental tape techniques, within a visionary series of free-standing expressions.

In this next installment of Token, Brussels' own Border One steps in to showcase 'Echoes from the Abyss', another swinging, modular-driven project destined for controlled sound systems. In these four tracks, the seasoned producer does what he knows best: engaging the dancefloor through his signature sound design and use of space.

'Echoes from the Abyss' the track, like the EP, is a collection of sound associations that are synonymous with Border One's sound. Resonant and cerebral yet bouncy and full of groove, the A1 presents a shimmering veil of synthwork that gives off a truly hypnotic effect. The follow up is much more sequence-based, focusing on the elements' interactions. The producer plays along freely with his drum machine, responding to a classically loopy and dissonant main synth that insists its way from beginning to end. Tension is everything, especially when met with a sustained chord in the second half, turning the record into a weapon of suspense. 'Celestial Observer' comes back straight and center with a focused tone and a progressive arrangement. With a thick low end and shrill highs, Border One flicks through percussion patterns and filter sweeps to make an intense, at times close eyed dancefloor experience. Ducking back into obscurity for the last track, 'Escaping the Void' takes on a more minimally produced style that breathes a bit after its previous, denser productions. Concluding with a question mark is always very appropriate, and here we're faced with a record caught between ethereal soundscapes and tense implications. With 'Escaping the Void', Border One closes with his latest contribution to Token with class as always, appealing to genre veterans and newcomers alike.

Two-Piers präsentiert die nächste Killer-Compilation: "Weird Scenes From The Hangout (Psychedelic & Freakbeat Dancefloor Anthems 1967-1982)", kuratiert von Richard Norris (The Grid, Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve, The Time And Space Machine) und zentriert um seine Liverpooler Clubnacht "The Hangout" in den 1980ern. Dort brachten er und weitere DJs bewusstseinsverändernden Wahnsinn aus Psychedelia und Freakbeat auf die Tanzfläche. Herausragende Songs wie "The Left Banke - I've Got Something On My Mind", "The Turtles - Buzzsaw" oder "Can - Outside Your Door" wurden zu echten Hangout-Hymnen. Man widmete der eher trendy Ausbeute der Spät-Sechziger ebenso viel Zeit wie angesagten Acts, solange der Groove auf dem Dancefloor funktionierte. Das Hangout kam und ging im Nu, aber sein Erbe, psychedelische Fußstampfer auf die Fläche zu bringen, lebt weiter, gemeinsam mit der Liebe zu allem, was mit Beat und Freak zu tun hat.
** Exclusive tracks to Vinyl Format

As a key representative of French neo-soul with ambitious intentions, the singer, songwriter, and composer Enchantée Julia has truly made her mark on the French scene with her second EP LONGO MAÏ, released in 2022 and available on vinyl for the first time. On this cathartic yet hedonistic project, whose title is a nod to her southern origins, she collaborates with the Saint-Etienne duo Terrenoire and rapper Benjamin Epps.

Julia places even more emphasis on vocal harmonies and sophisticated arrangements, whether on upbeat, sunny tracks or delicate, intimate ballads like "MOUSSA" (produced by The Hop), a personal and sensitive ode to the one she shares her life with—a mix of cathartic song and a message of hope, referencing the tough challenges they’ve faced together. The fear of happiness and love slipping through her fingers is also present in "VÉNUS," composed and arranged by Bastien Cabezon and Oscar Emch. As the opening track of the EP, it showcases Julia’s mastery in blending the French language with neo-soul influences from across the Atlantic, laying the foundation for a unique universe that unfolds throughout the project. The second single, "PLUS FORT QUE MOI," breaks down genre barriers: Julia’s enchanting voice is wrapped in a pop-driven production with electronic hints, crafted by Terrenoire. She continues this pop momentum with "QUESTIONS," where she releases her torments—both trivial and profound—over a groove-laden production with sharp percussion, courtesy of the much sought-after Parisian producer Crayon. Julia's bewitching voice shines on the bittersweet "SOS," which bears the scars of a past relationship. On "LONGO MAÏ," a dreamy ballad with trap-inspired rhythms, Enchantée Julia invites rapper Benjamin Epps for an anthem about brighter days ahead, reminding us of the importance of familial love. To close this second EP, Julia reunites with long-time friends, brothers Théo and Raphaël Herrerias, who form the duo Terrenoire. "TOUCHER TOI" forms a diptych with the track "MOUSSA" and reveals Julia's full potential, as she shines here in a French chanson style that she has previously explored less.

Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, and with some notable guest appearances including; The Bug, Douglas Leal of Deafkids, Wayne Adams of Petbrick, Dave French of Yob and Sanford Parker, this final part of the Harvestman Triptych seeks once again for a lost world, with the voice of poet Ezra Pound extolling the virtues of "gathering from the air a live tradition".
Cloudy Clear plus Black Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket. Limited and Non-Returnable.
At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.

Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, Triptych is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

"Herne's Oak" provides seismic bass waves that physically halt the track in its steps - giant footfalls as Herne's antlers themselves are dragged along a corridor. Another curious and mysterious piece of British folklore brought to life by Harvestman.

If Triptych is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with Triptych itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Cover art is by Henry Hablak, who also designed the art for Part One and Part Two.

Behind The Mask is back with its second release still signed by the mind behind the label, Lorenzo Aribone. Mask 2 consists of four tracks ranging from House to Techno. The A side contains two dancefloor tracks with Deep and Acid sonorities while the B side sounds more raw and dirty.

"Can machines sing? With his Synthetic album cycle, Rich Aucoin answers that question with a resounding, exuberant ""yes."" The four-part project sweeps listeners through a gallery tour of synthesis history, giving voice to a chorus of specimens from the past century of electronic sound. On Season 3, Aucoin deepens his dive into the variegated genealogy of dance music, charting a joyful course through the many flavors of rave euphoria.

From March 2020 through February 2024, Aucoin recorded Synthetic: Season 3 during a series of visits to the National Music Centre in Calgary and the Vintage Synthesizer Museum in Los Angeles. Among these collections, he found historic synthesizers ranging from the ubiquitous to the esoteric, each with its own voice just waiting to be jolted to life. During these sessions, Aucoin took the opportunity to air out some of synth history's most iconic instruments.

From the mass-produced to the bespoke, each synthesizer on Synthetic: Season 3 sends a transmission from its makers' own historical vision of the future. The instruments' tactile interfaces -- from fields of patch jacks to 50-year-old optical discs to rows and rows of voltage dials -- all lend embodied dimension to the practice of shaping sound from raw electricity. Each of them carries a story about what might have tumbled into being from the moment of their creation. In awakening these machines, Aucoin cross-pollinates a choir of futures into an ecstatic, reverential present."

This third volume of Universal Synthesizer Interface delves further into early MIDI sequencing software for personal computers, focusing on Intelligent Music Software founded by Joel Chadabe in 1984. In a short period of time (1986-1990) Intelligent Music published a series of MIDI sequencing software titles that would have rippling effects throughout the music world: M, Jam Factory, UpBeat, MidiDraw, Ovaltune, Realtime, as well as an unreleased first version of Miller Puckette’s Max. These programs were a reflection of Chadabe’s desire to create interactive and intelligent algorithmic tools for home computers. Intelligent compositional tools had been floating around for decades in mainframe computer labs, but they had largely only been accessible to people working in academic or corporate laboratories. With the birth of Intelligent Music, these tools became available to anyone with a home studio. As the personal computers of this era had become less expensive and more accessible, they had also grown exponentially in processing power and seeming intelligence. In the music press from this time, we find the same two words used again and again to describe algorithmic computer systems: smart and intelligent. The tone of such articles may seem quaint by today’s standards, when AI and algorithmic control underpin so much of our technology, but the question of machine intelligence remains. Universal Synthesizer Interface VOL III Focuses exclusively on one of the more obscure of Intelligent Music’s software creations - UpBeat: The Intelligent Rhythm Sequencer, released in 1987, and hailed by reviewers of the time as “the world’s best drum machine.”

Julia Fehenberger, Oliver da Coll Wrage, Manuel da Coll - und schon wird FEH draus - und der TripHop der 1990er wird unangestrengt und elegant in die 2020er Jahre katapultiert. Die Drei, die schon seit Jahren befreundet sind, starten im Dezember 2021 ihr Projekt FEH. Sehr schnell ist klar, dass es da neben der Liebe zum TripHop auch das Bedürfnis gibt, den Wahnsinn der letzten zwei Jahre wenigstens musikalisch zu verarbeiten und ihm damit ein Stück weit auf die Schliche zu kommen. Erste Songskizzen entstehen und werden als Memo direkt ins Telefon gesungen und in die Runde geschickt. Man glaubt es kaum, aber genau so war es. Diese Arbeitsweise führt, auch für die Drei vollkommen überraschend, ziemlich schnell zu homogenen und einzigartigen Resultaten. Man taucht ein in die TripHopSzene der 90er, schemenhaft tauchen Portishead, Massive Attacke, Tricky oder auch Moloko auf. Was man aber eindeutig hört, ist diese Band FEH, die all diese Einflüsse zu ihrem eigenen Sound macht. Es könnte eine Bandreise und eine Reflektion der eigenen Jugend sein, eine Reminiszenz an diese Zeiten aber auch ein erwachsener Aufbruch in einen neuen Sound. Ganz ehrlich, ist total egal, klingt einfach supergut.

Heinrich Dressel presents Reflected Skies: a tribute to Dressel's distinctive style of cinematic ambience. The scenery in Reflected Skies is not the protagonist but rather the details, that hint at a larger picture, like the sky as it appears in everyday reflections. Dark, expectant and mysterious where the listener is left to awe at the subtle questioning of an untold story. Mastered by Ruud Lekx at Rude66 Mastering Artwork by Tycho Posthumus

Equal parts soft and sorrowful, Myriam Gendron’s stunning Not So Deep As A Well LP became something of a sleeper hit upon its initial release back in 2014. Her debut album shone a warm lamp-light glow upon a curious and captivating new voice in the Quebecois folk world.
Nearly ten years on from its release in her native Canada and America, Not So Deep As A Well gets a European release for the first time this autumn, with a new pressing on the Basin Rock label (Julie Byrne, Aoife Nessa Frances, Trevor Beales, Juni Habel) which features two tracks not included on the original release - ‘Bric-à-brac’ and ‘The Small Hours’ - both written and recorded in the early days of 2014.
Recorded alone in her apartment, with no knowledge of sound engineering, it could almost be a lost artefact, a dust-lined document of a forgotten time and place. Taking the poems of Dorothy Parker, whose work Gendron stumbled upon by chance in a Montreal bookstore, she imbues the words with a graceful, gentle expression, a lingering sense of sorrow always present.
A stark, spellbinding collection, Not So Deep As A Well is raw and unyielding in so many ways we no longer expect to hear. As if sitting in the room with her, Gendron’s voice is cracked and unadorned, quietly forced into a push and pull between

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life.

Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work is a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically.

Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which KMRU began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions.

On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan Am', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

12” paddling pool blue vinyl, is an edition of 500. CD Digifile. Following the runaway success of their critically acclaimed 2021 second album Contender, the question for fast-rising London four-piece Fightmilk was always going to be “what next?” With a tight indie-pop sound that defined their early recordings, the answer was obvious to a band who seem hellbent on the notion of evolve or die… The band originally formed in 2015 in a Brixton pub garden by Lily and Alex, who had both, separately, just been dumped and thought being in an angry punk band would cheer them up. Then they found Nick and Healey to hold the rhythm down and make them sound good. With three albums under their belt, they’ve perfected their chaotic, melodic brand of joy and rage-filled pop with full-throated yelling and sparkling guitar riffs as their trademark. They’ve graduated from angsty whippersnappers in their mid-twenties to overgrown teenage 30-somethings with mild ongoing back and shoulder pain. Their previous 2 albums Not With That Attitude (2018) & Contender (2021) marked them out as an ambitious and rising prospect, and now on their forthcoming new album No Souvenirs the band eschew their former Britpop ties and edge further into DIY punk and heavier rock influences to reveal a leaner, meaner, more abrasive side to their cathartic lo-fi anthems. Whilst collectively diving into their passion for Jimmy Eat World, frontwoman Lily Rae made a conscious decision to strengthen her “big loud yell” with influence from Alicia Bognanno (Bully), Nat Foster (Press Club), and Missy Dabice (Mannequin Pussy). “My voice is the biggest it’s ever been and I’m constantly thrilled when people are surprised at how loud I am, considering I’m so small in stature,” she grins. “Lyrically I always look to Bruce Springsteen for inspiration but I also really enjoyed the angsty candour of Sour by Olivia Rodrigo, and Kacey Musgraves’ impeccable one-liners.” There are a few genre experiments on the record—Yo La Tengo in ‘Paddling Pool’, ‘Canines’ is part The Strokes and part Neu!, and ‘Back From Tour’ was heavily influenced by long term friends Johnny Foreigner. “You could probably make a case for ‘Inferno’ having a bit of Counting Crows to it, but we were never writing to emulate,” explains guitarist Alex. “The references and touchstones just happened along the way. As far as we’re concerned, they just sound like Fightmilk - and that’s a really nice place to be nearly a decade in.” “That said, we’ve also been REALLY picky with the songs that made it onto the album - there’s probably an-other album’s worth of songs that didn’t feel right, even if we loved them. We got really good at finding the “magic thing” in each song that made it work.” Spilling over with candid lyrics about death, doomed love, and dog bites, framed by endless punk energy and the kind of full-throated riff-rock that sounds just at home in a giant stadium as it does in a sticky-floored toilet bar, No Souvenirs is a triumphant return from the band, who are equally enthused by the album. “I only realised after we put the songs together how personal to me this album was,” explains Lily. “Not just because I’m writing about extremely specific sitcom episodes in my life (getting fired from bridesmaid duty, being bitten on the arse by a dog, being relentlessly asked when I’m going to have kids), but because whilst we were making it, I turned 30. It’s a significant age for women, especially in music, because aside from being something called a ‘geriatric millennial’, there’s an unspoken rule that there’s a cut-off point for you to have ‘made it’ and after that you have to settle down and be normal.” For Lily, writing for the album also aligned with the 10th anniversary of the death of a close friend, with the resulting track ‘No Souvenirs’ lending its title to the album as a whole. “It had taken me that long to write about it in a way I felt ok with. But I realised that I couldn’t have written it before,” she explains. “I needed that distance, and that maturity, to be able to articulate those feelings. It feels to me now like the album is about scorched earth, moving on, taking nothing with you for the next ‘thing’ - and realising that getting older is a privilege.” Bringing a huge amount of energy and joy with them whenever and wherever they hit a stage, interacting with the audience is a vital part of the Fightmilk live experience. “Without people singing and dancing at us we wouldn’t have gigs at all, so we want everyone to get involved!” says Lily of the band’s future tour plans

Recital presents a newly unearthed recording of an interview between Sun Ra and composer Charlie Morrow recorded at his New York studio in 1989. This voice-only recording develops more like a kaleidoscopic sermon than any standard interview.

Charlie Morrow recalls:
My 1989 Summer Solstice Celebration featured Sun Ra and his Arkestra. On March 29, 1989, ahead of this historical performance, Sun Ra came to New York to plan the performance and do an interview with me in the Charles Morrow Associates studio. There were members of the Sun Ra Arkestra, some of my team, and a photographer present. Once in the sound studio, Sun Ra wanted to record the discussion. What he says is so much more than anyone expected. I pushed record on the tape recorder, which quietly took it all in.

What Sun Ra recorded is a breathtaking expression of his feelings and strong convictions, illustrated with personal memories and stories. My few questions to him about the upcoming Solstice and about the sun and his thoughts about a dawn event triggered his mind. He launched into a nonstop journey of ricocheting stories and concepts, climaxing when I started jamming with Sun Ra on conch horn. Our duo drives to a climactic peak with explosive conch breath sounds giving line-by-line affirmations to Sun Ra’s points.

The 1989 Summer Solstice event brought together Sun Ra and his constellation of musicians and fans with my large-scale gatherings and work with the New Wilderness Foundation. Here in 2023 and beyond, the events live again. Sean McCann of Recital was drawn to Sun Ra’s words, which inspired the production of this edition. Sun Ra’s words seem to have an even greater resonance in present time. Ra is calling out the turbulence of the bad actions of the righteous and the good actions that an evil man, as he dubs himself, can perform, all the time believing that music has the possibility to bring all humans to a better place.

Charlie Morrow, 2023 / Helsinki, Finland

One-time pressing of 425 copies, includes 12-page booklet with rare photos and full transcription of interview, 24”x18” poster of Sun Ra 1989 Solstice performance photograph

Records suffered during shipment and sleeves are dog-eared :-/
we cannot change that :-/
So the records are a bit "less" expensive...

But the plates are safe and sounds perfect & loud !! They bring the Noisy Hardcore to Speedcore expected with thos musicians !!!

Born Xavier Amin Dphrepaulezz, by now much has been made of Fantastic Negrito's own unique story--his early years growing up in an orthodox Muslim household, the doomed major label deal that turned him off of the music industry altogether, the near-fatal car crash that permanently damaged his guitar playing hand--as well as the remarkable redemption arc that began in 2015, when he won the first ever NPR Tiny Desk Contest. In the years that followed, Negrito would go on to take home three consecutive GRAMMY Awards for Best Contemporary Blues Album, tour with everyone from Sturgill Simpson to Chris Cornell to Bruce Springsteen, collaborate in the studio with the likes of Sting and E-40, launch his own Storefront Records label, perform at Lollapalooza, WOMAD, Glastonbury, Newport Folk, Byron Bay Blues, and nearly every other major festival on the map, and found the Revolution Plantation, an urban farm aimed at youth education and empowerment. Son of a Broken Man sees Fantastic Negrito encapsulating the inimitable elements of his celebrated body of work to date, from hard-hitting distorted guitar riffs to melodic and expressive ballads, all fueled by the unexpected twists that have become his trademark. The album stands as perhaps Fantastic Negrito's most personal thus far, exploring family, deception, and the human desire to hide the true self as he dives deep into one of the oldest conflicts in human history, the struggle between father and son. Beginning at a young age, Negrito was served untruths by his father. A made-up last name, a fabricated ancestry, and a fake Somali accent. Why lie? Why create this false narrative? Those are the questions Negrito had to ask himself and the questions that lie at the heart of Son of a Broken Man.

Without a doubt, these productions leave a lasting impression and atmosphere, as already proven in our label head’s sets. The EP kicks of with "Silvio," featuring a rolling bassline reminiscent of the disco edits from the 2000s, like "Je Dàvu’s – Limitiert #9" or Rub n Tug’s classic edits, yet with a remarkably wild touch that gives the track its unique character. "Aus Music" might already be familiar to some from Dixon’s Cercle set and is, without question, a standout. It combines clever production with a certain spice that makes it a special companion in your usb stick and disco bag. Finally, "Mulher Gato" rounds out the EP, providing a fitting conclusion to a release that is set to resonate long after the last note.

Leng’s San Francisco connection has long been strong, with the 40 Thieves collective – and their friend Cole Odin – providing some of the label’s most memorable releases of the last decade. That Bay Area connection comes to the fore once more on the imprint’s latest release, which sees Odin join forces with fellow San Francisco resident Marshall Watson, a long-serving producer, engineer and live performer known globally for his Balearic-minded productions.
‘Voyager’, the pair’s first collaborative single, is a genuine meeting of minds. It combines Odin’s love of low-slung dub disco, dancefloor psychedelia and low-tempo cosmic house with Watson’s
picturesque Balearic synths, sparkling piano riffs and immersive sound design. It’s this blend that dominates on the EP-opening Original Mix, an infectious workout that gets progressively more blissed-out and saucer-eyed as it progresses. Listen carefully and you’ll hear some suitably psychedelic guitar solos nestling amongst the heady washes of sound, sun-bright piano riffs and weighty bass.


Those languid, stretched-out guitar parts naturally take a more prominent role on the Extended
Guitar Mix. On this alternative take, the pair deliver a lightly tweaked take on the original groove, stretching it out while overlaying eyes-closed guitar solos, pots-and-pans percussion and a more DJ-friendly outro. It’s effectively an extended club mix – the club in question being a Bay Area basement at 5am. To round off the EP, Odin and Watson dust off their dancing shoes and pay tribute to San Francisco great Patrick Cowley. On the appropriately titled Cosmic Rave Mix, the pair swap their bass guitar for a pulsating sequenced bassline, trance-inducing synth sounds, and locked-in electronic loops designed to take you to a higher state of consciousness. By the time the track’s familiar piano refrain drops midway through, you’ll be reaching for the lasers in no time at all.

Only Love Remains is Yemen Blues’ boldest offering yet. The eleven-track album embraces the strengths of all four accomplished musicians and the richness of their individual cultures – the traditional to the modern and the sounds of the East to the West.

Co-produced by the band and New York-based Yemen Blues’ bassist Shanir Ezra Blumenkranz, known for his avant-garde work with John Zorn and Yo-Yo Ma, Only Love Remains is simultaneously a very direct and visceral emotional connection and an enigmatic spiritual quest, both enlightening and questioning.

At a time of dangerous political, religious, and cultural polarization and xenophobia, Yemen Blues and Only Love Remains lead by example, creating a color-blind, all-embracing celebration of gyrating togetherness with love firmly at its pulsing core.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Into The Woods is the fifth album from California-based quartet The Call, featuring the passionate singing and writing of Michael Been. The album was released in the US in 1987. While The Call’s earlier releases - notably The Call and Modern Romans - pointed out the world’s obvious problems, Into The Woods takes a more introspective look at life’s tougher personal questions. Into The Woods seems to be a study in contrast between beauty and danger where the imagery of the woods becomes a metaphor for self-examination.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Quantum Baby is the second instalment of Tinashe’s BB/ANG3L trilogy following last fall’s first instalment, BB/ANG3L. The album includes the explosive single “Nasty” which is currently rising up the charts and has become the song of the summer amassing over 200M+ global streams. Billboard Hot 100 - #61, Top 5 Rhythm Radio, Spotify Viral US - #1, TikTok Billboard Top 50 - #2. The genre-blending album contains elements of R&B, Pop, Electronic and Hip-Hop. This album features production from Grammy Award Winning producer Ricky Reed, along with Nosaj Thing and more! Tickets are currently on sale for the North American leg of Tinashe’s Match My Freak World Tour, which kicks off October ‘24. The vinyl is housed in a gatefold jacket with printed sleeve and insert booklet. Available in standard black and a limited Indie Exclusive Edition pressed on Blue & Orange Swirl colored vinyl. Quantum Baby is the second instalment in Tinashe’s BB/ANG3L album trilogy. The first in the series, BB/ANG3L, was released Fall ‘23 and was followed by the BB/ANG3L tour and Tinashe’s first Tiny Desk performance. Tinashe began teasing the hit single “Nasty,” this past Spring, debuting the song at Coachella 2024. The song quickly went viral, to become the song of the summer. This led to everyone asking the most prevalent question of the summer: “Is somebody gonna match my freak?” “Quantum Baby is about getting to know me on a deeper level. It's about exploring who I am as a person and who I am as an artist. I’ve never been one to be put into a box, so the name Quantum Baby encompasses all the different parts that make up who I am as a creative,” says Tinashe, describing the album as “forward, hot and lots of bass