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8/10 FULL-PAGE LEAD REVIEW IN UNCUT: “TALENTED ARTISTS SUCH AS ALDOUS HARDING , DELANEY DAVIDSON, IVY ROSSITER AND MARLON WILLIAMS REPRESENT A FRESH COUNTRY-FOLK/AMERICANA MOVEMENT IN AND AROUND CHRISTCHURCH AND DUNEDIN. NADIA REID'S IMPECCABLE DEBUT WILL MAYBE SET A WIDER ORBIT IN MOTION.”
4/5 LEAD REVIEW IN MOJO: “INSPIRED DEBUT BY A YOUNG NEW ZEALAND SINGER-SONGWRITER YOU'LL FEEL YOU'VE KNOWN FOREVER. A WONDERFUL ALBUM"

SUNDAY TIMES DEBUT OF THE WEEK: "SHE RANKS ALONGSIDE LOW AND THE COWBOY JUNKIES FOR DELIVERING SLOW-BURN EMOTION"
"It has all that well-smoked wisdom, that mingling of strength and yearning that seems to charge the work of all my favourite female artists – Laura Marling, The Weather Station, Sharon Van Etten and Tift Merritt, to name but four. Reid is just 23, and since I am loathe to run that “old beyond her years” line, let us simply say that when I hear a young artist making an album as soulful and rich and self-possessed as Listen to Formation, Look for the Signs, I feel so thrilled not only for the existence of that record but for all the music they will make over all the years to come.” THE GUARDIAN PLAYLIST
6MUSIC ALBUM OF THE WEEK
A richness of voice; a depth of emotion; and wise beyond her years; with Listen To Formation, Look For the Signs, 23-year-old New Zealand native Nadia Reid has claimed her place as one of the country’s most evocative and profound young songwriters. Her music traces the sharp mountain peaks, azure coastline, and mirrored images of the land and sky that pinpoint her home country’s vast open landscapes.
Whether nerding about with friends, stunning audiences into silence with her spellbinding live shows or unwinding in the tranquillity of her favourite hometown spot overlooking Port Chalmers’ harbour through her large-rimmed spectacles, Nadia Reid has achieved a gloriously fresh and eloquent new folk sound. “I’ve been in New Zealand my whole life and guess at times I take for granted the serene beauty that I live so closely with,” she says of her music’s majestic affiliation with nature. Mapping out tales of change and loss, whilst drawing inspiration from reading, writing, the human condition, falling in and out of love, death, and birth - it all lends to a superbly balanced album that moves surreptitiously between sparse and fragile melancholia to beautifully brutal lyricism with a philosophical maturity that bellies her years.
Born in Auckland, Nadia’s acoustic roots stem from an upbringing in a musical household where attending folk clubs and festivals were regular occurrences on the family calendar. “I was lucky to witness a lot of live music and theatre performances because my mum was an actress. I was encouraged to learn piano and guitar, and attended a Steiner school where we spent a lot of time in nature, singing songs.” Before long Nadia was listening to The Be Good Tanyas with friend and fellow recording artist Aldous Harding, which spurred her chosen career path. “There was something spiritual about the Tanyas’ records - I vividly remember the goose-bump feelings up my arms, a true connection to the lyrics and vocals,” she recalls. “Aldous was the first person who told me I had a good voice and I thank her for that. I admire her as an artist and writer, and we like to keep up with what each other is up to.”
Creating her own enchanting wonderworld, each of Nadia’s songs explores the elements; truly organic, her vocals ebb, flow and soar but are always ignited with fire from the gut. Her lyrics clearly reference lush landscapes but equally reflect alienation provided by the surrounding Pacific Ocean and mortality of living in such close proximity to Mother Nature’s wrath, as experienced whilst living in Christchurch at the time of 2011’s devastating earthquake. “It shook the city to its core,” Nadia recalls. “I’m sure living through it has shaped my personality and writing. My first EP was recorded just months afterwards, it was a strange time. We were all quite fragile, but I was braver somehow.”
Boldly infusing folk with full flavour, Listen To Formation, Look For The Signs was produced by Ben Edwards, owner of Lyttelton Records in his Sitting Room studios with Nadia’s band consisting bassist Richie Pickard, guitarist Sam Taylor and percussionist Joe McCallum. Whilst 'Reaching Through’s rich but unhurried nature evokes She Hangs Brightly -era Mazzy Star and intricate nuances of Beth Orton are recalled on lead single ‘Call The Days’ which talks of moving to a new town and was the first song penned after Nadia moved from Christchurch to Wellington; spurred on by a “panic attack” and being “worried about making the right choices in life”. Elsewhere ‘Runway’ and ‘Some Are Lucky’ immediately channel Nadia’s love of TBGT’s Jolie Holland and appreciation for New Zealand’s Maori music by Maisey Rika and Anika Moa, plus the inspirational narratives of Kenyan-born Somali poet Warsan Shire.

"Jay Duncan's Baroque Sunburst bow Catalyst Curve is deep, percussive and submerging.

Bitten Dream's dark, atmospheric syncopation hypnotises, whilst Via Tekh's electro recalls Objekt. On the flip, Shrine twists 8-bit granular textures into early Livity Sound and Carrier territory, before the ambient Catharsis lulls the EP to a close."

Written & produced by Jay Duncan.
Mixed by Bradley Hutchings.
Master & cut by Marco Pellegrino at Analogcut Mastering.
Artwork by Luca Baioni.
Design By Otto Von Lumi.
Limited run of 200 copies.

First time on LP worldwide / New liner notes by Graham Parker / Includes the fan favourites "Blue Horizon," "I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again," and "Socks 'N' Sandals" / Packaged as an LP with bonus 7" single / Remastered for vinyl by the album's original co-producer and engineer, Dave Cook / Graham Parker has been pre-promoting this upcoming LP release from the stage/ Graham Parker's fifteenth studio album, Deepcut to Nowhere, was first released by the independent label Razor & Tie in 2001. Parker recalls, "Within weeks after the release date of Deepcut to Nowhere, I was up early driving from New York State to Boston on what seemed like the most beautiful day in the history of autumn, to rehearse with the Figgs for a festival in Oregon, slated for a few weeks later, followed by a tour to support the album. That day was September 11th, 2001." In the aftermath of the attacks, Parker comments, "The press members I spoke to could barely get past the first track on Deepcut to Nowhere, 'Dark Days,' asking me if I was some kind of 'seer,' or had a mysterious crystal ball. Followed by 'I'll Never Play Jacksonville Again,' the opening salvos of the album seemed to capture imminent trauma, but of course, I was just writing songs." As the 12-song set progresses, Parker's focus expands to include the nostalgic "Blue Horizon" ("as emotionally rich a song as I'll ever write"), a dark-humoured take on the evils of colonialism ("Syphilis and Religion"), and the indignity of wearing socks with sandals. Taken together, Deepcut to Nowhere is among Parker's finest and most varied collections of songs, several of which have gone on to become setlist staples. Deepcut to Nowhere, originally released on CD only, finally makes its worldwide LP debut.

Jonas Munk closes his ambient trilogy with mammoth drone pieces, multi-layered guitars and hymnal krautrock. "Mirror Phase" concludes a trilogy of minimal ambient albums in Munk's (Causa Sui) own name. These eight compositions, based on guitar and synthesizer loops, marks a return to the warmer sounds Munk is often associated with. Sonic structures that slowly and gradually evolves and changes, like cloud formations in the sky. The title track, "Mirror Phase", is Munk's most expansive drone opus so far. It's a carefully arranged piece where sounds that oscillates with the same interval, but at different phases, are continuously added, hence creating shifting patterns throughout the track's nearly 18 minute duration. Elsewhere, in "Transition", multi-layered guitars creates the sonic equivalent of waves gently splashing on the shore. "At a Distance" creates a haunting, and hypnotic, soundscape by using slightly out-of-tune analog synthesizers, summoning the transcendent krautrock of Popol Vuh. And "Rise", as well as the closing track, "Return to Nowhere", recalls the glistening sounds of his Manual releases. "Mirror Phase" might just be Munk's ambient oeuvre reaching its zenith. The CD edition comes with an extra CD with Jonas Munk's 2021 album, "Altered Light", which has previously only been released on digital download and streaming.

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

Tristan Arp returns to Wisdom Teeth with his sophomore LP: ‘a pool, a portal’ - a vast, multi-dimensional record of pin-drop rhythms, hushed vocals and swirling ambience that maps out a vivid limbic space between the natural and the digital worlds. The LP began life while Tristan was still living in Mexico City, and was subsequently finished in New York. Carrying on from where his acclaimed debut ‘Sculpturegardening’ left off, the record marries hallucinatory modular synths with cello, found sound and spoken word, creating a rich sonic world in which machines mimic nature and acoustic instruments merge with their digital counterparts. Across the record’s narrative arc, listeners are invited to imagine a future world in which nature and machines collaborate to rewild and search for new modes of being. Far from apocalyptic, the artist’s vision is yearning and hopeful - a reflection on how we might evolve to overcome our very human limitations. “Hopefully we can all open a little portal into another world and integrate what we learn into our own”, Tristan offers. True to his word, Tristan shared much of the creative process with his machines, using modular generative processes to create randomised, improvisatory moments that he could collaborate on as artist and observer. Most of the tracks were captured in single takes as live performances and improvisations that were subsequently edited and cut down. Speaking of ‘Life After Humans’ - the record’s beguiling 10-minute centrepiece - Tristan recalls: “I neglected to record multi-track outs, but it was actually super empowering to be left with just a stereo track: I couldn’t mix individual elements even if I wanted to after the recording, but I’m happy I inadvertently limited myself in that way.” Alongside his own voice, the record features a stunning appearance from fast-rising Guatemalan cellist and vocalist, Mabe Fratti. The pair met in Mexico City in 2020, where she helped Tristan to learn cello - an encounter that ultimately went on to inform the recordings that made up ‘Sculpturegardening’. Her appearance on ‘a pool, a portal’ marks a full-circle moment in their creative relationship. The album’s artwork features photography by Zhang An - a photographer based in Nanjing, China. Despite their appearances, these are unmanipulated photos of real-world ice formations. As is the case throughout ‘a pool, a portal’, the lines between the natural and the artificial are playfully indistinct.

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?"

. 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

Expected late October/early November

Scott Gilmore’s Volume 01, an Analog Synth Gem, Makes Its Vinyl Debut - Pressed at 45RPM for maximum fidelity.

Recorded on a vintage Tascam 388, the LP version of Gilmore’s alluring, easy-going instrumental electronic record arrives in the physical world via In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi Records.

Los Angeles, CA — When the Los Angeles electronic musician and multi-instrumentalist Scott Gilmore recalls the creation of the songs on Volume 01, he describes specific moments of spontaneous inspiration. “I remember sitting at the tape deck, watching the leaves outside the window as they flittered in the sunlight—a moment of stillness that became intertwined with the melody I was recording,” Gilmore recalls, speaking of the track “Song For Cate.”

This sense of simplicity and presence is at the heart of Volume 01, which was recorded entirely on a Tascam 388 using a carefully curated selection of instruments.

Volume 01, an intimate, instinctual album that mixes lo-fi digital rhythms, strummed guitar, and melodic synth layers, is a collection of songs that captures Gilmore’s magnetic fluidity and the spontaneity of his process. Initially released digitally and as a limited edition cassette, Volume 01 is set to be issued on vinyl for the first time by In Sheep’s Clothing Hi-Fi.

The Tascam 388 is a classic mid-1980s analog machine that combines an 8-track reel-to-reel tape recorder with a built-in mixing console. Volume 01 exudes the kind of hazy, nostalgic warmth that only such recorders can provide. For the nine-song album, Gilmore harnessed analog synths including the Arp Odyssey, Yamaha CS-01, Korg DW-8000, Hohner Pianet T, Roland TR 606, and Roland SH 101, as well as bamboo alto saxophone, clarinet, electric guitar, and electric bass.

The album is awash in brief, propellant pieces. At just over four minutes, the relatively epic “Horizon Line” is driven by a three-note snare pattern, a two-note cymbal tap, with a humble bass-line serving as the rudder; Gilmore’s improvised keyboard runs move with an intuitive, conversational glee. The pensive "Shade" sounds like it could be a Penguin Cafe Orchestra demo. Closing track “D. Hareem” runs on a wobbly time signature but with an insistent, determined rhythm that belies genre descriptives. “I prefer to not know what I’m making as I compose,” Gilmore says. “It’s when I can’t clearly define what the music is that it’s then something that I want to put out into the world.”

In hindsight, Volume 01 was a portent. After its 2016 cassette release, Gilmore connected with International Feel, the Balearic imprint run by Marc Barrot, to release the sublime Subtle Vertigo. In 2019, Gilmore’s music caught the attention of Marc Hollander, the experimental composer and founding member of Aksak Maboul, which led to a signing with the Belgian label Crammed Discs. That deal enabled the creation of Gilmore’s solo album Two Roomed Motel and Doctor Fluorescent, a retro-futuristic, Vocoder-heavy 2020 collaboration with Eddie Ruscha V, a.k.a. Secret Circuit). Across these projects, Gilmore’s work has been mentioned in the same sentences as Stereolab, Arthur Russell, Woo, Air, R. Stevie Moore, and others, all of whom have combined synths and non-synths to memorable effect.

With the upcoming vinyl release, Volume 01 will set into wax an enduring set of works, offering listeners the chance to experience analog artistry in its most authentic, tangible form. In Sheep’s Clothing Records is honored to bring Gilmore’s work to vinyl.

Strange Power!, the fifth record from Durham, NC-based songwriter and poet Anne Malin Ringwalt, emerges from the darkest waters of the self into a world remade. Releasing in conjunction with her second book of poetry, What Floods (Inside the Castle, Oct. 2024), Strange Power! overflows with Ringwalt's teeming and sensuous personal symbolry: glowing lilacs and gentle queens, dolphins wild and girls who grew up brave _ T.S. Eliot sung by Cat Power, backed by Mount Eerie. She sings: "I rose up from water." Ringwalt writes and performs with the authority of a lifetime spent harnessing the alchemy of storytelling; her belief in the power of words to heal and transform is palpable in each achingly- delivered lyric. Made amidst profound inner and outer change, Strange Power! also sees Ringwalt taking up the role of self-producer for the first time, mirroring and supporting the record's Orphic quest by gathering contributions from a coterie of friends wielding an electric range of American instruments. Violins, vibraphones, drum machines, electric guitars dappled with spring reverb, wind-blown shells, and a host of other numinous sounds form an unfurling and shadowy world which was then carefully honed during the mixing process (shepherded by Michael Cormier-O'Leary and Lucas Knapp) _ settling the final record in an eerie meridian between spareness and verdancy. The result is a beguiling and darkly blooming realm: the sound of a personal cosmos being remade, piece by piece. Ringwalt is at the height of her spirit as both songwriter-poet and singer, her willowy voice by turns conjuring and keening as she reckons with her deep past and the stories told since. Opening track "The Pines" sets the stage for a record of truly life-long scope: "I was a child, now I hold her / I was asleep for many years." Some songs, like the gorgeous "North Carolina" and "The Saint," were written as early as 2013 but, Ringwalt says, "insisted upon being remembered" as the record took shape; in its final form, they serve as inciting moments of self-discovery before the journey to come. "The Visionary" recalls one of Ringwalt's earliest musical breakthroughs _ her re-rendering of an Emily Brontë poem into a song at age 15 _ and, she says, "`cites' the melody of that song in the context of this new one _ a holding of the past and present and every layer in between/beyond, in utter solitude _ a solitude that reflects certain aspects of abandon as a child and an adult..." This unusually lengthy time-scale lends Strange Power! a deeply moving sense of narrative fullness. Stretches of the record _ particularly the "Judgment Day" ? "River" ? "Lilac Bloom" trifecta that form the black heart of Side 1 _ may recall familiar wanderings of personal underworlds such as Mount Eerie's Lost Wisdom Pt. 2 or Neil Young's Ditch Trilogy. Yet this hollowed landscape is in turn exorcized by the a capella "I Know," in which Ringwalt sings "I won't be gutted by you / For giving and trying to heal / I won't be gutted, I am not a fool / I deserve a love that is new" before the song concludes with a piano passage that recalls hymnal music _ suggesting a faith in life itself to offer new beginnings. Side 2 features some of Ringwalt's most powerfully introspective writing to date, as the songwriter casts off myth after myth in her search for personal transformation. By the final song, "Stories," the energy that has been gathering all throughout the record breaks loose as Ringwalt reflects: "I wrote so many stories, not knowing what the end was." But at this stage in the journey, we know there is no such thing as an ending; if the healing process is never complete, the storyteller's strange power is what finally offers liberation.

Hank Dogs – Andy Allan, his partner Piano and Lily, Andy’s daughter from a previous relationship - started out at folk clubs in London in the early 1990s before going worldwide in 1998 when legendary producer and late 60s Folk Rock guru, Joe Boyd declared them the first British act he'd loved in 30 years. Their debut album ‘Bareback’ saw them touring the US with Joan Baez and winning fans with their quiet, haunting sound featuring ethereal vocal harmonies, strong traces of blues and Celtic music and Allan’s fluid acoustic finger-picking recalling UK folk guitarists such as John Renbourn. Another part of their appeal, particularly in the States, was their ‘Carter Family’ image but then, when Andy and Piano split-up in real life, so did the band. A follow up album ‘Half Smile’ appeared in 2002 but this turned out to be their swansong. However, the story was not quite over yet.. a third unreleased album ‘Fiveways’ had been recorded before they went their separate ways and now it’s finally seeing the light of day on South London label Scratchy Records, plus the band are re-uniting for some long overdue gigs to celebrate the release. ‘Fiveways’ contains much of the Hank Dogs’ trademark English folk/US country-straddling sound. Piano’s voice bounces between early Suzanne Vega, Tracey Thorn and Mary Margaret O’Hara with occasional hints of Dolores Cranberry and Bridget St. John, while underneath the acoustic guitars run freeform tangled and Lily’s backing vocals add sky. Stand out track ‘Logic’ with its pensive lyrics and haunting guitar line recalls the way Suzanne Vega (her again) could sometimes make songs stand still in their tracks but it’s the dreamy ‘Nut’ that really captures the mood “You had me when I was sweet as a nut.. Not sweet enough” sings Piano. This is the sound of two ex-lovers still able to work together but unable to hide the odd dig here and there.. like a follow up album a couple of years later on from ‘Blood On The Tracks’. Andy sings a few songs too including the raggedy, swashbuckling ‘Gazetteer’ revolving around a ‘Pre-CBS Maple neck Sunburst bought off The Pretty Things’ and hinting at a whole lifetime of music biz escapades from watching his dad Elkan Allan produce 60s TV show ‘Ready Steady Go’ to a stint on bass in The Professionals along with Steve Jones and Paul Cook. Next year the story carries on with his long-running South East London ‘Easycome’ club night featuring in US TV queen Lena Dunham’s new Netflix series ‘Too Much’. Towards the end of the album an angelic setting of Dylan Thomas’s ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ in the song ‘Nod’ recalls Christmas TOTP number ones from days gone by and captures Hank Dogs ability to transport the listener. This album is definitely one for the dreamers. FFO Pentangle, The Innocence Mission and William Blake

Something About Livingis an album of live recordings by experimental jazz composer/multi-instrumentalist Robert Stillman. The music was captured over the course of Stillman's time as the solo support act for The Smile (Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Tom Skinner). The album weaves excerpts from various theater and arena shows along the tour's North American routing into a seamless whole, creating a 40-minute program that represents an expanded version of Stillman's ever-transforming live set.

Something About Livingis the product of a steady, on-stage evolution that happened over the course of the nearly 60 shows opening for the Smile across the EU, UK, US, Canada and Mexico. However, the creative origins of the set began in relative isolation during the pandemic, through Stillman's work on projects like his multi-media installationUnseen Forcesand his monthly broadcast for Margate Radio, both of which drew upon solo improvisation using saxophone, cassettes, Yamaha DX7 synthesizer, and effects.

"At the time The Smile asked whether I'd like to open for them on their first tour, I felt like I'd already been preparing without really knowing it," says Stillman. "I'd been doing this music constantly, but always for a hypothetical audience" During the pandemic, Stillman's solo set-up served as the research lab where he worked on all the concepts he was interested in: solo improvisation, creating and manipulating cassettes, FM synthesis, analogue delays chains, no-input mixing, and non-metric rhythmic pulses. So when he was offered the first Smile tour, the idea was to bring "the lab" onto the stage.

What Stillman could not have prepared for was the experience of playing in venues with capacities of up to ten thousand listeners. "The first tour was in summer 2022, so not that long after the worst of the pandemic, when I had pretty much made peace with the idea that I might never be able to perform for an audience again. Then all of a sudden I found myself in front of huge numbers of people, and felt the massive responsibility of being with an audience, of this thing I'd done alone for so longactually being witnessed, and it was completely overwhelming!" On the flip-side, Stillman also recalls, was a new appreciation of how powerful the live performance was as a social phenomenon. "It's a cliche, but also true: the moment of making and hearing music in a shared time and space has a very specific meaning and power; there was a sense that everyone in the venue was necessary to make it real, regardless of what they were doing, or how they felt about it. There was an inevitability about it that I'd never fully appreciated."

Over the course of the tours that followed, Stillman transformed this appreciation of the shared moment into an ethic of spontaneity that guided the development of his live set. "An important reference for this set has always been an Animal Collective show I saw when I first moved to New York, probably in 2001 or so, that has always set the high-water mark for what I wanted to do live- they were improvising a lot, and out of what would seem to be absolute chaos they'd find their way to something structured, and then back out again into the unknown. It was so thrilling to witness".

ThoughSomething About Livingcompiles recordings from different dates along the tour, Stillman has edited and mixed them into a work that seeks to reflect the ebb and flow between 'chaos and control' that characterizes his live set. Among the compositions featured are some from previous album releases ("Time of Waves", "What I Owe", "What Does it Mean to Be American") as well as some new compositions ("The Dream of Waking", "Renaissance 2.0," and the title track, "Something About Living").

The album/track title "Something About Living" is a reference to a line from Stillman's favorite film,My Dinner With André: "André Gregory is explaining the value of life experiences that, as he says, are'to do with living'.That really struck me, the way he articulated it. I strongly believe live music situations can ask these kinds of questions, for performers and audiences. I hope that's reflected in this music."

[a] 01: Time of Waves (Live in Miami FL) [Live]
[b] 02: What Does It Mean to Be American (Live in Forest Hills NY) [Live]
[c] 03: The Dream of Waking (Live in St Augustine FL) [Live]
[d] 04: Something About Living (Live in Richmond VA) [Live]
[e] 05: What I Owe (Live in Chesterfield MO) [Live]
[f] 06: Renaissance 2.0 (Live in Chesterfield MO) [Live]

Razorlight were at the forefront of the indie-rock resurgence of the early 2000s, their biggest moments - ‘Golden Touch’, ‘Somewhere Else’, ‘In The Morning’, ‘America’ and ‘Wire To Wire’ - driving three Top 5 albums, nine Platinum album certifications, an NME Award, and live highlights including headlining the Reading Festival and performing at Live 8. After reuniting for live shows in 2021, the classic line-up - Johnny Borrell (vocals/guitar), Björn Ågren (guitar), Carl Dalemo (bass) and Andy Burrows (drums) - will release the new album ‘Planet Nowhere’ on October 25th, their first together since 2008. Razorlight preview the set by sharing its first single, ‘Scared Of Nothing’. Since reuniting, Razorlight have sold-out a headline tour which included a London show at the Eventim Apollo, and played shows as guests to Muse, Kaiser Chiefs and James. But as the ever ambitious Johnny challenged himself, “Who wants to be a greatest hits band?” So he hatched a plan, and late in 2023 booked a five-day session with the legendary producer Youth (The Verve, James) at his Space Mountain studio in Spain. Youth knew what they had to achieve, telling the band, “Razorlight’s quite simple isn’t it? Just a driving bassline, driving drums and a story.” For whatever reason, things weren’t that simple. After four days they had a stack of ideas, but nothing really worth pursuing. And then, as Johnny recalls, something remarkable emerged from out of nowhere. “I’d been down in the barranca, and came back up to find the studio empty. So I picked up this weird six-string bass/guitar hybrid I'd never seen before and wrote this thing. On our last night, I started playing it with the guys. The drums came in hard, the bass pounded. It sounded like shit. Absolute shit. But Youth was there, saying 'Can, Velvets, see where it takes you’ and 'Why don’t you try it like that?' But still, the track just wouldn't budge, locked in its own inertia. Youth says, 'You're getting there, just one more' and almost instantly the song came out, from nothing to something, like a statue coming up out of marble.” That song was ‘Scared of Nothing’ and listening back to the finished track, it’s easy to see why it resparked Razorlight’s mojo. Exuding taut, spiky post-punk energy in a way that’s instantly infectious - the very traits that attracted highfalutin praise from NME back when they started out (“More tunes than Franz, more spirit than The Strokes, and more balls than nearly every band out there”). And as ever, Johnny demonstrates the swaggering, high-intensity charisma that took him from being a figurehead of the Camden scene to rise to become a Vogue cover star. It was also the track which unlocked Razorlight’s creativity, leading the band to return to Spain with Youth for a second session earlier this year, during which they crafted an extensive catalogue of songs for the upcoming album. Other titles vying for inclusion include ‘Zombie Love’, ‘U Can Call Me’, ‘Dirty Luck’ and ‘Cool People’. Since returning, Razorlight have also looked back on their initial achievements, first releasing ‘Razorwhat? The Best of Razorlight’ (complete with the new song ‘You Are Entering The Human Heart’) and then last month issuing the 20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition of their breakthrough debut album ‘Up All Night’. Never a dull moment. Writing a new ending for themselves, Razorlight are back to cast out the boring in your life.

2024 coloured (violet) vinyl repress for this year's Sonic Cathedral's 20th anniversary! Hull/Leeds based five-piece bdrmm release their much anticipated debut Bedroom on July 3, via Sonic Cathedral. The 10-track album was recorded late last year at The Nave studio in Leeds by Alex Greaves (Working Mens Club, Bo Ningen) and mastered in Brooklyn by Heba Kadry (Slowdive, Beach House). It's a hugely accomplished debut and a real step up both sonically and lyrically from their early singles, which were rounded up on last year's If Not, When? EP. Musically, there are nods to The Cure's Disintegration, Deerhunter and DIIV, while the band reference RIDE and Radiohead. There are also echoes of krautrock and post-punk, from The Chameleons to Protomartyr, plus the proto shoegaze of the Pale Saints' The Comforts Of Madness, not least in the cross fading of some tracks, meaning the album is an almost seamless listen. As a result, Bedroom becomes an unexpected and unintentional concept album, running through the different stages of a break-up set against the backdrop of the ups and downs of your early twenties. "The subject matter spans mental health, alcohol abuse, unplanned pregnancy, drugs_ basically every cliché topic that you could think of," reveals frontman Ryan Smith. "But that doesn't mean they ever stop being relevant. It's a fucker growing up, but I'm lucky enough to have been able to project my feelings in the form of this band, surrounded by four of the best people I've ever met." And that band name, in case it needs explaining, is pronounced the same way as the album title. "I never thought I'd get to the stage where I would have to explain it so much," says Ryan. "We have been pronounced as Boredom, Bdum and my old boss thought we were a ska band called Bad Riddim. We're all sarcastic cunts, so Bedroom spelt correctly seemed like the perfect title." He's right. The perfect title for the perfect debut album. "A modern day shoegaze classic" - NME "The general roller coaster of being twenty-somethings in post-Brexit England who find themselves awash with a shimmering soundscape that recalls Oshin-era DIIV, Deerhunter's Microcastle, or even The Cure at their most ambiently grandiose" - Under The Radar

Quinnisa Kinsella-Mulkerin recorded her first song at five years old with her parents, who comprise the adventurous Maine band, Big Blood. Ever since the age of five, she was writing songs, banging on chimes, strumming guitars, and clanging together whatever else she could find. Improvisation was natural, and she stuck to the approach. Quinn brings this innate sense of songwriting to The Wickies, a duo she formed with Aiden Arel a year ago at age 16, whose chill approach and fluid delivery belie true inventiveness in the underneath mechanics. Inspired by seventies folk icons like Stevie Nicks, Krautrock bands like Can, and modern indie-rockers like Alex G, The Wickies feel like an amalgamation of these decade-spanning sounds, but uniquely their own. Quinn’s voice croons like a seventies folk star, but it possesses a great and controlled tone. Her vocals feel like another instrument within the mix, building and growing each song to its fullest sound, leaving no detail within the mix unheard. Their use of echoing guitar lines recalls sixties psych, a springboard for their unique take. Quinn’s lush, free-flowing lyrics, created on the spot, complement Aiden's fleshed out backing instrumentation and over-dubbing. Quickly, the pair created more material than they ever needed, allowing them to mold their recordings into a self-titled debut album. Like a painter crafting the perfect exhibition of their finest work, Aiden and Quinn condensed their improvisations to all the best parts. Tracks like “Campfire Song” and “Skipping Pond,” exemplify the ethereal and lackadaisical atmosphere of their sound. “I keep finding these weird, obscure bands from the seventies that have one album and nothing else, which is awesome,” Quinn said, “I want my music to sound like somebody found it in a record store that no one has ever heard of and uploaded it to YouTube. I want it to sound a little strange.”

Following the recent vinyl reissue of Manuel Tur's cinematic downtempo album "Intertextural", originally self-released during the Covid 19 pandemic, comes this package of fresh remixes featuring interpretations of four standout tracks from the record by DJ Counselling, All Is Well and Yuu Udagawa.

London-based DJ Counselling opens the EP with his energetic version of "Omina", raising tempo and hands with an expertly executed arrangement, while the newly added filtered synth chords echo some of Tur's best-known releases of the late noughties. Next up is Montreal's Frédéric Blais aka All Is Well, who after his recent LP success on Drumpoet and another brand-new album under his main moniker Fred Everything just released, turns "Flakon" into a head-nodding groove masterpiece that recalls the subtle 90s trip-hop flavor of the original version. On the B-side, Tokyo native Yuu Udagawa, who has collaborated with Tur on several occasions, unleashes two beautiful and ethereal remixes of "Slow White" and "Shadowgraph" that let us float through her signature sparkling sound.

"A group of tried-and-true musicians got together and found the sort of camaraderie and kinship you typically only find once in a lifetime. They didn’t overthink it. They didn’t waste a second. They simply left their blood, sweat, and tears on tape—like they’ve always done. For as much as Better Lovers represents the union of former Every Time I Die members Jordan Buckley guitar,Steve Micciche [bass], and Clayton “Goose” Holyoak [drums] with The Dillinger Escape Plan and Killer Be Killed frontman Greg Puciato [vocals],and musician (Fit For An Autopsy/END) and GRAMMY® Award-winning producer, Will Putney [guitar], it really cements the bond of five friends around a shared vision. That vision is as uncompromising, unapologetic, and undeniable as anything they’ve individually done, yet it’s refined by experience and a commitment to a future together. They’re in it for the long haul... “To me, this band is refreshing,” exclaims Jordan. “Looking back, I’m so happy everything got me to where I am. The pandemic and the last few years made me hungrier and more grateful. This isn’t a hobby. This isn’t temporary. This is the next evolution for each of us. Greg and Will rejuvenated me and made me even more confident.



Now, everybody needs to know we’re a wild animal that just broke out of the zoo—there’s no trying to put it back in the cage.” “Better Lovers definitely feels like its own thing,” states Greg. “I’m in so many lanes right now, so it was important that one lane didn’t step on another. However, nothing I’m doing is this vicious. This is full-on scathing. It’s been really fun. I forgot how much I liked that.” As the story goes, Jordan ended up back in Buffalo, NY, jamming in a basement rehearsal spot with Steve and Goose during the winter of 2022. After working with Will on the last two Every Time I Die records, they shared a handful of early demos with him to produce. As the year progressed, Jordan caught Greg on the road with Jerry Cantrell in Las Vegas, mentioning the new music. Once ideas solidified, he shared them with the vocalist who replied at 3am one night in December. “The text said, ‘Let’s give these motherfuckers what they want’,”chuckles Jordan. “I went to bed smiling and laughing. There is no one like Greg on stage, off stage, or over text. Once I told Will, he was like, ‘Can I play?’ We said, ‘Of course!’ That’s how it was born.” “Once I pick up the scent, I’ll go for the kill,” smiles Greg. “We’ve all hung out, gotten to know each other, and it’s all fire now. Everyone has already been through shit. You know yourself better. Your ego isn’t as big as it used to be. You can share your opinions. It’s a cool dynamic.” Fittingly, they introduce this era with the single “30 Under 13.” A seasick guitar groove bleeds into an incisive riff punctuated by Greg’s vitriolic and venomous screams, “Hold onto me, try to let go of me, let go of what you’ll never be. ”This barrage unpredictably subsides on a haunting clean vocal, only to ramp back up into a pit-splitting thrash crescendo and rapid-fire solo played at warp speed. “We always try to up our game,” notes Jordan. “This is the next step for all of us. There’s just constant forward motion, and we don’t want to compromise that. We want to keep going. We’re doing a lot of shit we haven’t done before in Better Lovers. I’m not going to spoil it for you, but get ready.” “For some reason, this song got me,” recalls Greg. “Once that happens, you have the toe of the dinosaur skeleton in the dirt. You start brushing it away, and soon you have a fucking T-Rex.” The name might give you a hint of what’s coming—or it might not. So, what does the future hold for Better Lovers? Well, it’s entirely in their control. Expect a lot of touring. Expect more music. Expect these five guys to leave a trail of destruction in their wake—really would you want anything less? “We feel like we’re going to explode if we sit around any longer,” Jordan leaves off. “This is my life’s work. I learned all of my lessons, passed all of the tests, and took all of the right turns and the wrong turns. It turns out what I thought were wrong turns got me here, and that’s all that matters. I have no regrets. I know this is what I’m supposed to be doing.” “I just want you to view this on its own merits,” Greg concludes. “I hope it reaches some new people. For me, the enjoyment is making the music and putting it out. The second it’s released, I don’t look back. You drop the bomb and keep flying the plane. You don’t circle back to see how much destruction you cause. You keep moving, which is what we’re going to do.” "

A punky romp with a beast of a chorus, JTQ here kicking up some dust with a tune that hails back to James' time in the Prisoners supporting The Ramones on a UK tour in 1986. James recalls 'The Ramones were one of the most incredible things I've ever seen, I watched their entire show, 3 hrs, every night on the tour and as a 21 yr old it made a huge effect on me. I've waited to being 60 yrs old to find a way to somehow act on that. Although I'd say JTQ have always had a punky Rock n Roll thing going on our live gigs.' This whole thing now feels completely new and fresh. a real discovery. Despite having always being there on some level.

For the past two decades, Dr Roman Belavkin (Solar X) has been deeply involved in AI research and mathematics at British universities. His albums from the 1990s are a testament to an era defined by the early internet-bulletin boards, FTP sites and mailing lists. In keeping with this, Solar X's music sounds surprisingly futuristic, a romantic artifact of a time eagerly anticipating tomorrow.

Following the re-issue of Solar-X's "Xrated" in 2019, GALAXIID is releasing his debut "Outre X Mer". All tracks are from the original DAT tapes and have been remastered for this release. "Pozdno Utrom", "Dileg" and "Solar X" were originally released on the "Outre X Mer EP" on Defective Records in 1995. Other tracks are out on vinyl and digital platforms for the first time.

"I was homebound for two years between 1992 and 1994, and the only way I could escape was through computer networks and writing," Belavkin recalls. Before the nasty car accident he was a member of the USSR/Russia national wushu team. Confined to his home, Belavkin started creating tracks based on ideas from his school days in the late 1980s, when he first recorded melodies on cassette tapes. This time, however, he fused those sounds with Soviet analogue synthesizers and PC sound cards. He shared these tracks via email with friends in different countries, becoming part of the "Analogue Heaven" mailing list, a community of enthusiasts united by their passion for analogue synthesis dating back to the 1960s.

During his initial pursuit of a PhD in Computer Science, Roman wanted to explore the intersection of what electronic music could offer humanity, the potential for AI to experience emotions, and whether emotions enhance or hinder intellect. These themes resonate in the music of Solar X. The album embodies ambient techno with intricate rhythms and ear caressing melodies, choppy percussion and blissful synths, making it both tranquil and danceable. Like a shimmering spaceship navigating between anxious dreams and visions, it transports the listener to a naively hopeful era yet to come.

"Co-produced by Jerry Finn (Rancid, Green Day, Jawbreaker) and Butch Vig (Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins), Sing the Sorrow retains the Bay Area outfit’s signature aggression and pathos – forging ever forward into uncharted territory like the virtuoso guitar intro of “The Leaving Song Pt. 2” or the industrial-leaning break and Dead Can Dance-worthy outro of “Death Of Seasons.”
Meanwhile, from its sublime intro through beautifully subdued verses and infectious choruses, first single “Girl’s Not Grey” is a standout that both recalls AFI coming into its own on 2000’s The Art Of Drowning and hints at a myriad of future directions. For the purists, “Dancing Through Sunday” and “Bleed Black” come strapped with generous chant-along opportunities and heavy-as-hell, bolt-tight riffs and rhythms. And as with virtually every track on Sing The Sorrow, these are all imbued with alternately brooding and celebratory lyrical imagery of rebirth, resurrection, apocalypse, all somehow deeply personal – in other words, classic AFI.
“When you’re playing a style of music that doesn’t really fit anywhere, you run a risk. You’re challenging people to leave their niche, to leave their predetermined ideas of what they’re supposed to like. Luckily, we have a lot of people who just focus on the music and appreciate us for what we are. So we get fans from all different genres of music, the jocks, the spooky kids, skaters, college kids, punk rockers, hardcore kids, metal kids, all that.” — Davey Havok"

Repress!

Leif Vollebekk, the Montreal singer songwriter and multi instrumentalist had hit a wall. In the midst of endless touring Leif found himself retreating to his lonely hotel rooms after shows and listening to Nick Drake's 'Pink Moon' alone in the dark. His own songs didn't sound right and he felt the bright spots in his sets were the covers he'd end with: songs by Ray Charles or Townes Van Zandt. In this deep blue mood he booked a secret show at a Montreal dive bar, only playing covers with a band that rehearsed once.  The experience led Leif to change his approach to songwriting: explore the ideas that came spontaneously to him, and let the songs shape themselves. Soon the songs came pouring out of him. This approach is what created the lush, freewheeling and often devastating 'Twin Solitude,' out February 24 on Secret City Records.

"By the time the last notes die away, all that's left should be you," Leif says. "And I'll be somewhere else. And that's Twin Solitude.' 

Leif's third album, features 10 delicate and expansive original songs, with lyrics that pour out of this singer songwriter that are often compared to Jeff Buckley.  Leif's words lay on a bed of elastic instrumentation full of piano, synthesizer, guitar, rich electric bass and strings.

Several songs on the album came to Leif and were written in one sitting. 'Into the Ether' came to be while he was exploring a Moog synthesizer. 'Elegy' is a bedside soliloquy, of love slipping through fingers and came to Leif while he was riding his bike through Montreal.  The meditative 'Michigan' was written on a half-tuned guitar and fully written as he was about to go to sleep.  Other songs on the album capture the countless hours Leif has spent on the road, crisscrossing North America. 'Big Sky Country' recalls a trip to Vancouver with his family when he was young, never forgetting the expanse of Montana and listening to Ian Tyson's song 'The Gift' in the car over and over again.
'Twin Solitude' features Olivier Fairfield from Timber Timbre (drums), Sarah Page from the Barr Brothers (harp) on 'Rest' Shahzad Ismaily of Marc Ribot's Ceramic Dog and SecretCheifs3 (bass) on several tracks and the string duo Chargaux throughout the album as well.  It was engineered by Dave Smith and recorded at his Breakglass Studios in Canada.  Produced by Leif Vollebekk.

Vollebekk made his album debut in 2010 - and since then has performed at the Newport Folk Festival, and shared stages with Daniel Lanois, Beth Orton, Sinéad O'Connor, Patrick Watson, Coeur de Pirate, William Fitzsimmons and Sam Amidon. His debut 'Inland' was described as  beautiful, memorable and moving' by NPR and  timeless and monumental'  by The Independent.

Swiss intergalactic 3 piece experimentalists lean on a Dadaist theme for their late-night, jam-inspired, and smokey beat laden trip to the cosmos.

Distilling surf rock, jazz and ambience, energised and patched together with spoken word samples, wind instruments and, blunted hip hop beats, ali dada’s album SUM is their invitation to dadaversum’ - their eccentric universe of sound and emotion.

Featuring Orlando Ludens (guitar & ambient soundscapes), Rulla (beats & field recordings) and Max Licht (brass & trombone), experimentation is the trio’s constant and SUM is the result of jams and associative distillation’ always with a fluid sense of genre.

Whilst SUM clearly takes new and furtive steps, ali dada’s sound is wholly their own. Nothing feels rigid here and rules don’t apply. Improvisation lingers in the air, even after the last note fades. A series of sound sketches, dense in detail, stylistically rich, SUM gives licence to couch-melt, sungaze or for those used to wintry climes, add another log on the fire.

“The songs often emerge from imperfect elements or mistakes, like from a loop or glitch. or something I played that wasn’t quite clean and building on that becomes the challenge ” recalls Orlando. Rulla adds “I play a lot of instruments, very, very badly and in music production, I’m trained to craft something awesome out of wonky sounds. That’s how songs emerge from unusual sounds”.

As for who played the double bass, no one remembers. Who belongs to the band and who doesn’t is open to interpretation. Though a core group exists the spotlight remains on experimentation through jam sessions. ali dada is a construct, a dadaverse.

Highlights include the album’s opener 'abolish the police', a mix of guitars, weirded-out wind instruments and Häuserfrau’s ever chilled vocal presence. 'tone print' is the band’s first single from the album, which combines sliding guitar, the infamous psychedelic Tim as a narrator, some early CPU game sound-splats and a meteoric dope beat, providing the head nodding groove. 'ohnedi'’s ambient charm features some gorgeous manipulated choir moments and some fidgety electronic synths.

Permanent Parts is the second album released by visual artist Katharina Grosse (synthesizer) and musician Stefan Schneider (synthesizer; So Sner, To Rococo Rot). Grosse and Schneider were joined at Galerie Max Hetzler on 29 April 2023, performing as part of the Spectrum without Traces exhibition, by three artists who all generally work within improvised music – Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet), Tintin Patrone (trombone and electronics), and Billy Roisz (noise generator, piezo and mini cymbal). Permanent Parts is an extraordinary set of recordings that inhabits multiple zones at once: within its thirty-five minutes, we can hear the interactions of non-idiomatic collective music making, and the electronic glimmers of electro-acoustics, while, at the same time, the music remains untethered to genre.

This capacity to work within liminal zones makes perfect sense when thinking about both Grosse’s and Schneider’s prior work, whether the energetic diffusions and spatial explorations of Grosse’s artistic practice, or the slippery texturology of Schneider’s recent work with electronics. Khorkhordina, Patrone and Roisz all find their own ways into this dynamic, too, and Permanent Parts feels like an equal exchange of presence and contribution; there are no hierarchies here. This might explain the music’s curious sense of development, where several elements are allowed to exist alongside each other, not in direct contact but in a mode that’s somewhere between carefree layering and unconscious juxtaposition. The musicians are listening, but not just with their ears – their skin, their bodies are hearing, too.

When talking about Permanent Parts, Schneider is careful to place it within contexts that are specific, to some degree, but which allow for difference to blossom. “Although it was recorded live, it somehow was not meant to be a documentation of a live event in the first place. The five piece line up that appears on the record had met for the first time only a few hours before the concert took place.” While it might take a leap of faith for all parties to walk together, and so willingly, into a place of such freedom, of such risk, there is clear sympathy here between the musicians, and a shared appreciation of the immediacies of the situation.

It also throws some of our preconceptions about this music out of the window. “The record does not feel like a document of a performance as the music was not pre-composed and there was no reference,” Schneider continues. “Perhaps it was not even an improvisation?” For Grosse, her musical relationship with Schneider similarly shakes free from expectation: “My sound does not exist without Stefan’s. It is neither written down nor is it improvised. It is instantaneous.” When thinking about the five-piece exploration on Permanent Parts and asked to expand on what each musician brings to the table, she continues, “We all love the thrill of an unknown encounter and we seem to have a need for building connections through the thicket of our voices.”

There’s a curious phrase on the back cover of the album, before the artists are listed: “Wir sind eine Batterie / We are a battery.” This sums up the spirit of Permanent Parts. Schneider recalls that Grosse said this phrase to the musicians at the start of the performance. Grosse explains further, “The figure of the battery referred to our placement in the space building out a small circle facing one another from where the sound could spill into the impressive volume of the gallery.” The battery as an arrangement of similar devices; but I also think of charge, and the conversion of chemical energy, and of fortification. It’s a poetic metaphor that sums up much of the febrile pleasure of the music contained on these Permanent Parts.

– Jon Dale, Melbourne

Multi-Platinum Certified indie pop artist Dayglow announces his highly anticipated debut album, titled DAYGLOW, will be released this autumn via olydor in UK The album was fully written, performed, recorded, produced, and mixed by Sloan Struble himself in his Malibu home studio. Last month, the artist, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and all-around creative kicked off a new chapter with his latest single and summertime anthem “Every Little Thing I Say I Do.” The nostalgically catchy song recalls the best of the early 2010’s indie and alternative music scene yet remains uniquely Dayglow. Since bursting onto the scene, he’s sold out headline tours around the globe and graced festival stages including Lollapalooza, Bonnaroo, Austin City Limits, Firefly Music Festival, Outside Lands, Reading & Leeds, Corona Capital, and more. His live performances have shined everywhere from The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon and The Late Show With Stephen Colbert to Austin City Limits TV. Along the way, he picked up critical acclaim from Billboard, NPR, UPROXX, American Songwriter, NME, Euphoria Magazine, and Ones To Watch to name a few.

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Brooklyn underground rap heroes Tanya Morgan drop a two-track heatrock of a 7-inch that lights up dancefloors while maintaining their true-school status with clever wordplay and progressive beats.

Since breaking on to the blog-era rap scene in 2006 with their debut LPMoonlightingand solidifying their status in 2009 with the now-legendaryBrooklynati, Tanya Morgan has represented the best of underground hip-hop. Your favorite rapper's favorite group, they combine trademark witty wordplay with tough, headnodding beats that demand rewinds and repeat listens. Bouncing back in recent years withRubber Souland other one-off cuts, the duo of Donwill and Von Pea has teamed with producer 6th Sense and quietly set about building the next chapter of their rock-solid legacy.

"Move It Or Lose It" is the latest manifestation of Tanya Morgan, a cut that is neither throwback nor trend chasing, but does double duty on the dancefloor as well as a headphone banger. Irresistibly funky, with Mathien's guitar and vocal the icing on top, and riding at a perfect tempo to get dancers bubbling, it got immediate attention from DJs when the group teased the digital version online.

The double A-side single continues on the flip with "Don't Look Up," another grown-man rap (as Von Pea asks, "How you want the old me acting brand new?") set to 6th Sense's progressive uptempo beat that recalls Q-Tip's adventurous recent productions, and featuring Mia Jae on vocals driving the chorus. Donwill's commentary on getting older and wiser in the music industry hits home to any of us who've been around the block: "Slow growth while the roots spread / Somebody said rap group's dead / They prolly wrote it as a sponsored ad."

Both cuts are primed to move feet and represent the continued lineage of quality underground hip-hop, proudly coming straight from the heart of Brooklyn as a collab with BK-based indy vinyl masters Names You Can Trust.

More than two years after the release of 'Impressões de Outra Ilha', Discrepant's head honcho returns home under his birth name with the appropriately titled 'Exotic Immensity'. Conjured from the seeds of an exhibition of dioramas at Le Bon Accueil in Rennes, this double LP feels quietly epic in scope, a sprawling travelogue through imagined scenarios and what if possibilities. Discarding the more rough around the edges collages of previous works under a myriad of aliases - Discogs it, if you will -, Cardoso's approach here is more meticulously composed, with seamless transitions within his own personal soundworld giving way to this hallucinated landscape of field recordings, subtle electronic tweaks, cascading patterns, queasy ambiences and kösmiche-like synth harmonies.

Perfectly embodied in Evan Crankshaw's cut up poem, filled with occult and sci-fi references such as Agrippa's Book of the Occult, William Blake's Book of Urizen, Dr. Moreau or 50's pop-science books, the music on 'Exotic Immensity' transverses time and cartography in a deeply personal matter, from the cricket-like textures and reverse loops of 'Réplica(s)' until the closing moments with the touching chord progression and mangled voices of 'Pó Nuno'. In-between, the foghorn meets bass clarinet melody of 'Ossos' recalls the unassuming but essential harmonic patterns of Laurence Crane, surrounded by an almost percussive sheet of field recordings that drift into the gliding synth tones of 'Desumanização (I & II)' until tape orchestral swells carry us into the aether. 'Aquário Novo Mundo' brims in an undisplaced cartography, from electronic marimba stabs to synth choirs, the call of the loom to labyrinthine keyboard harmonies and underwater radiance. Are we still here? Somewhere? The muffled looped rhythmic sequence of 'Imagem/Miragem', cut by the glow of cascading synths doesn't offer a reply. Nor does it need to.

'Exotic Immensity' exists on the perpetual outside. Blessed be Cardoso for showing us a way in.

For those of you who"ve mislaid your history goggles, this archival release recalls an ancient time in the world of recorded music. Yes, back in the dinosaur days of the 1990s, a creature known as Aerial M walked the earth, before evolving into Papa M and PAJO and beyond and back. Even then, the music of M had a next-wave vibe, walking upright among the knuckle-draggers (and having drinks in the evening with others of its genetic detatchment). It was too much to last very long, of course - but some things end up lasting forever, don"t they? Fuck! So it is today that Drag City, an organization largely set up to bring you the best of all available M recordings, is proud to be there for the release of the only Aerial M session ever recorded for John Peel"s BBC Radio One show, as it was originally recorded on 3rd March 1998 and broadcast on 2nd April of the same year. The studio versions of these songs, which appear on Aerial M"s S/t album (DC114) and Papa M"s Hole of Burning Alms comp (DC231), were played by "M" himself (now revealed to be David Pajo!), which makes this album a rare alternative view of the canonical M, played by an actual Aerial M band who, all too briefly, embodied the sound for a year or so before Papa brought a brand new bag. This Session found them fortuitously roadburned from several weeks in the European Theatre. So much the better for our archival ears, as OG-M"s signature minimalist long-fuse sizzle is thrillingly intact here; in fact, even more so, as the tunes are jammed out past the studio versions" originally delineated borders, reaching rudely across the table in moments of liveness that the studio-bound project might have decided against when conferring only with the walls. For fans of their epic version of "Turn Turn Turn", this is more sweetmeats from that raucous old skull - but if you"ve not been down this road before, be prepared: the taste will set you slowly aflame. And then, before you know it, the band is dined and dashed - just like the band that Aerial M was, all too briefly amok on the earth that was too.

The vinyl is limited edition blue vinyl with a numbered certificate. This is the first coloured Evo vinyl. The Miners Son Film Soundtrack features self-penned material from Ettecon. 11 original Tracks, most of which has been written and composed by Ettecon Productions. A Nostalgic story of the hopes and dreams of a rock band in 1984. THE MINER’S SON depicts how a year of industrial action and violent unrest changed the face of a small tight knit community and their way of life forever. A bitterness that is still very much felt today. The film focuses on a bygone industrial past of a Kent town in Southeast England. Some of the characters are based on real people and true events from the day. The findings for this story are factual and sourced from friends and family who lived through this turbulent time. This story evolved from the memories of Kevin Short, co-writer & producer of The Miner’s Son. Kevin, a miner’s son himself was a guitarist in many local rock bands who struggled to achieve recognition. Despite this, he recalls the era as a fun and carefree time. A world away from how people see life today.

Repress

Songs ’94-’98 is a smart selection of material from The Cat’s Miaow, an Australian indie-pop group that gifted their decade with some of its finest songs. Released on World Of Echo, the album draws from the group’s string of excellent seven-inch singles, a small clutch of compilation contributions, and features one previously unreleased song, “I Take It That We’re Through”, recorded in 1998. Part of the burgeoning international pop underground of the nineties, The Cat’s Miaow’s legend has only built over subsequent decades, as more people discover this most quixotic and curious of groups: a recent appearance on A Colourful Storm’s compilation of Australian indie-pop, I Won’t Have To Think About You, is testament to their enduring influence. In part emulating the selection of tracks on the 1997 CD-only compilation, Songs For Girls To Sing, Songs ’94-’98 is also the group’s first ever full-length 12” vinyl collection. The Cat’s Miaow started out in 1992 as a home-recording duo, Bart Cummings (guitar, bass, vocals) and Andrew Withycombe (bass, guitar) taking time out from duties with Girl Of The World and The Ampersands (respectively), knocking out songs on Withycombe’s four-track. Soon joined by Kerrie Bolton (vocals) and Cam Smith (drums), the quartet spent the next five years quietly, slowly working away in the suburbs of Melbourne, recording gem after gem of independent pop. Like many of their Australian precursors or peers – The Particles, Even As We Speak, The Cannanes – The Cat’s Miaow were more successful overseas, a sadly typical phenomenon within the Australian musical landscape. The Cat’s Miaow were always worldly and stylish, anyway, each seven-inch single a refined artifact, each song a peaceable jewel. You could hear some relationships with other music – someone (if not everyone) in The Cat’s Miaow was a Galaxie 500 fan; there’s a minimalism to the playing and melodies that recalls Young Marble Giants, Marine Girls, Beat Happening – but the spirit in these songs is endearingly individualised, the result of a hermetic vision, an ideal of what a simple, unadorned pop song could be. They had a winning way with simplicity, songs like “Autumn”, “Crying” and “I Can’t Sleep Thinking You Hate Me” passing by in the blink of a moistened eye, and when they stretched out, as on “Firefly”, you can hear hints of the drifting ambience they’d perfect in their other band, Hydroplane. It’s not much of a surprise that The Cat’s Miaow found a receptive audience, and no small amount of support, from the networked communities of indie-pop labels and fanatics that developed in the nineties – they released records on imprints like Drive-In, Darla, Bus Stop and Quiddity, shared a flexi-disc with Stereolab, and appeared on countless compilations over the years. But they also understood the importance of the local: their first few cassettes reached the world’s mail routes via Wayne Davidson’s legendary Melbourne tape label, Toytown; they turned up on a split single with Davidson’s group, Stinky Fire Engine; they appeared on a tribute cassette for one of Australia’s finest, The Sugargliders, and indeed that’s Josh Meadows of said group playing wah guitar on “Stay”. The Cat’s Miaow also rarely played live – one launch gig, for the Munch video compilation, and a few parties – which is a great way to maintain mystique. Cosmopolitan yet homely, dedicated to their craft, The Cat’s Miaow always felt a little like a group moving in slow motion, using that pace and focus fully to embrace the art of the perfectly stated pop song – every element in place, no flash and no fuss, no excess, just the core of the thing. Few managed to tease such fierce poetry from such understated, elegant means. From Australia or anywhere.

LOS ANGELES—To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the celebrated Talking Heads and Jonathan Demme’s concert film Stop Making Sense, the set will be re-released as a 2LP and 2CD/Blu-ray set this summer.

Released last year, the sold-out Deluxe Edition of the soundtrack will return as a 2-LP black vinyl on Rhino and 2-LP crystal clear vinyl at retail. Both variants feature a 12-page booklet with liner notes from all four band members –Tina Weymouth, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison—and band photos. The 2CD/Blu-ray version includes the entire 28-page booklet from last year’s Deluxe Edition and a Dolby Atmos mix of the complete concert, mixed by Jerry Harrison and E.T. Thorngren, who also mixed the original release. Both will be available on July 26. Pre-order now.

The band appeared together for a sold-out screening and Q&A last night at the Pantages Theater, the same theater at which Stop Making Sense was recorded. They were joined by Blondshell, who performed “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel.” Another special screening with the band will occur in Brooklyn at the King’s Theater on June 13, with the Q&A hosted by Questlove and The Linda Linda’s performing “Found a Job.” The two events cap off a banner year of celebrations for what many consider to be the best concert film of all time.

The inspiration for Stop Making Sense came when director Jonathan Demme saw Talking Heads perform during the band’s 1983 tour for Speaking in Tongues. Afterward, he approached them with the idea of making the show into a concert film. They agreed and worked together over the next few months to finalize the details. Ultimately, Demme filmed three shows at Hollywood’s Pantages Theater in December 1983 to create Stop Making Sense.

The concert film presents a retrospective of the band up to that point, with a performance that weaves together songs from all six of its studio albums. The show progresses methodically, opening with Byrne onstage performing “Psycho Killer” alone with a drum machine. After each song, he’s joined by a new band member until Weymouth, Frantz, and Harrison are all on stage with him. The group continues to grow throughout the concert as members of the stellar touring band are added: keyboardist Bernie Worrell, percussionist Steve Scales, guitarist Alex Weir, and backup singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt.

The band performs 18 songs in Stop Making Sense, including its recent single at the time, “Burning Down The House.” That summer, the song was in heavy rotation on radio and MTV, helping the song become the band’s first top 10 hit in America. It was, however, a different song from Speaking in Tongues that was destined to deliver one of the film’s signature moments. Talking Heads would perform “Girlfriend Is Better” wearing the now iconic, oversized suit inspired by costumes worn in traditional Japanese theater. For good measure, a picture of David Byrne in the suit also graces the album cover.

Stop Making Sense focuses mainly on music by Talking Heads but does include a few songs recorded outside the band: “Genius Of Love” by Tom Tom Club, “What A Day That Was” and “Big Business” from Byrne’s 1981 album, The Catherine Wheel. Limited edition vinyl versions of both of these albums, along with Harrison’s The Red And The Black, were released for this year’s Record Store Day.

When it arrived in September 1984, Stop Making Sense was an artistic and commercial triumph. The film had people dancing in theatre aisles, and the soundtrack sold over two million copies. Just last year, the Library of Congress added Stop Making Sense to the National Film Registry in recognition of its cultural, historical, and aesthetic significance.

Weymouth praises Demme as a collaborator: “…Jonathan was a very enthusiastic, highly adaptive, and imaginative guy who was just as good a listener as he was a talker and collaborator. From the get-go you just got the impression he was as flexible as he was disciplined. Being team players, that boded well for a great relationship and a great film!”

Harrison says the film still holds up today: “To me, Stop Making Sense has remained relevant because the staging and lighting techniques could have been created in a much earlier time period. For example, Vari-Lights, lights with motors to re-aim them, had just come into vogue. Had we used them, there would have been a timestamp on the film, and it eventually would have felt dated...The absence of interviews, combined with the elegant and timeless lighting, created a film that can be watched over and over.”

Byrne says it’s interesting that this album was – for many people – an introduction to Talking Heads. “We had done a live album before this, but coupled with the film, and with the improved mixes and sound quality, this record reached a whole new audience. As often happens, the songs got an added energy when we performed them live and were inspired by having an audience. In many ways, these versions are more exciting than the studio recordings, so maybe that’s why a lot of folks discovered us via this record.”

Frantz recalls the sheer joy surrounding the entire Stop Making Sense experience. “I’m talking about real, conscious, transcendent joy… I’m talking about what the Southern gospel people call ‘getting happy,’ which means ‘to be filled with the Spirit.’ That is what happened to us onstage every night, and from my seat behind the drums, I recognized that this was happening to the audience too. Joy was visible in front of me and all around me every night.”

LOS ANGELES—To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the celebrated Talking Heads and Jonathan Demme’s concert film Stop Making Sense, the set will be re-released as a 2LP and 2CD/Blu-ray set this summer.

Released last year, the sold-out Deluxe Edition of the soundtrack will return as a 2-LP black vinyl on Rhino and 2-LP crystal clear vinyl at retail. Both variants feature a 12-page booklet with liner notes from all four band members –Tina Weymouth, David Byrne, Chris Frantz, and Jerry Harrison—and band photos. The 2CD/Blu-ray version includes the entire 28-page booklet from last year’s Deluxe Edition and a Dolby Atmos mix of the complete concert, mixed by Jerry Harrison and E.T. Thorngren, who also mixed the original release. Both will be available on July 26. Pre-order now.

The band appeared together for a sold-out screening and Q&A last night at the Pantages Theater, the same theater at which Stop Making Sense was recorded. They were joined by Blondshell, who performed “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel.” Another special screening with the band will occur in Brooklyn at the King’s Theater on June 13, with the Q&A hosted by Questlove and The Linda Linda’s performing “Found a Job.” The two events cap off a banner year of celebrations for what many consider to be the best concert film of all time.

The inspiration for Stop Making Sense came when director Jonathan Demme saw Talking Heads perform during the band’s 1983 tour for Speaking in Tongues. Afterward, he approached them with the idea of making the show into a concert film. They agreed and worked together over the next few months to finalize the details. Ultimately, Demme filmed three shows at Hollywood’s Pantages Theater in December 1983 to create Stop Making Sense.

The concert film presents a retrospective of the band up to that point, with a performance that weaves together songs from all six of its studio albums. The show progresses methodically, opening with Byrne onstage performing “Psycho Killer” alone with a drum machine. After each song, he’s joined by a new band member until Weymouth, Frantz, and Harrison are all on stage with him. The group continues to grow throughout the concert as members of the stellar touring band are added: keyboardist Bernie Worrell, percussionist Steve Scales, guitarist Alex Weir, and backup singers Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt.

The band performs 18 songs in Stop Making Sense, including its recent single at the time, “Burning Down The House.” That summer, the song was in heavy rotation on radio and MTV, helping the song become the band’s first top 10 hit in America. It was, however, a different song from Speaking in Tongues that was destined to deliver one of the film’s signature moments. Talking Heads would perform “Girlfriend Is Better” wearing the now iconic, oversized suit inspired by costumes worn in traditional Japanese theater. For good measure, a picture of David Byrne in the suit also graces the album cover.

Stop Making Sense focuses mainly on music by Talking Heads but does include a few songs recorded outside the band: “Genius Of Love” by Tom Tom Club, “What A Day That Was” and “Big Business” from Byrne’s 1981 album, The Catherine Wheel. Limited edition vinyl versions of both of these albums, along with Harrison’s The Red And The Black, were released for this year’s Record Store Day.

When it arrived in September 1984, Stop Making Sense was an artistic and commercial triumph. The film had people dancing in theatre aisles, and the soundtrack sold over two million copies. Just last year, the Library of Congress added Stop Making Sense to the National Film Registry in recognition of its cultural, historical, and aesthetic significance.

Weymouth praises Demme as a collaborator: “…Jonathan was a very enthusiastic, highly adaptive, and imaginative guy who was just as good a listener as he was a talker and collaborator. From the get-go you just got the impression he was as flexible as he was disciplined. Being team players, that boded well for a great relationship and a great film!”

Harrison says the film still holds up today: “To me, Stop Making Sense has remained relevant because the staging and lighting techniques could have been created in a much earlier time period. For example, Vari-Lights, lights with motors to re-aim them, had just come into vogue. Had we used them, there would have been a timestamp on the film, and it eventually would have felt dated...The absence of interviews, combined with the elegant and timeless lighting, created a film that can be watched over and over.”

Byrne says it’s interesting that this album was – for many people – an introduction to Talking Heads. “We had done a live album before this, but coupled with the film, and with the improved mixes and sound quality, this record reached a whole new audience. As often happens, the songs got an added energy when we performed them live and were inspired by having an audience. In many ways, these versions are more exciting than the studio recordings, so maybe that’s why a lot of folks discovered us via this record.”

Frantz recalls the sheer joy surrounding the entire Stop Making Sense experience. “I’m talking about real, conscious, transcendent joy… I’m talking about what the Southern gospel people call ‘getting happy,’ which means ‘to be filled with the Spirit.’ That is what happened to us onstage every night, and from my seat behind the drums, I recognized that this was happening to the audience too. Joy was visible in front of me and all around me every night.”

*REMASTERED ROUGH TRADE DEBUT LP LIMITED TO JUST 500 COPIES WITH EMBOSSED OUTER SLEEVE AND ORIGINAL INNER SLEEVE ON BLACK VINYL*

Dream POP, they called it. Given AR Kane’s Alex Ayuli once worked for advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi, it’s no surprise that he and collaborator Rudy Tambala invented their own genre before critics could stick their oar in. It was a canny move, but more importantly, it was accurate: the music of AR Kane was made for dreamers, by dreamers, and its languor and longing made it particularly bewitching listening; their music is often smeared and blurry, happily lost in its own indefinable pleasures. “We wanted dream pop,” Tambala says, “that feeling of a dream where the rules are different. Dream logic.”
-UNCUT REISSUE OF THE MONTH

"A.R. Kane carved out a unique musical path, welding elements of pop, psych, dub, electronica, funk, noise, jazz, ambient and more in a way that had never been done before. Or since. Their debut in particular is a work of unbridled brilliance."
*Electronic Sound*

‘Sixty Nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves, ‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary – Neil Kulkarni


"A.R. Kane made some of the most exciting, forward-thinking, and science fictional music of their era".s*

Ex-Here We Go Magic frontman Luke Temple emerges with a new project, Luke Temple and The Cascading Moms. Debut album, Certain Limitations. Lauded for his contributions to Here We Go Magic and Art Feynman, Luke Temple brings his signature off-kilter grooves and melodies to his new project's debut album Certain Limitations. The trio's sound takes influence from the likes of Dire Straits and The Velvet Underground, weaving together intricate guitar work, and a propulsive rhythm section, with a touch of jazz sensibility that recalls the ECM catalog. A product of serendipity, The Cascading Moms were formed when in need of a band for an upcoming show, Temple brought together Kosta Galanopolous, a collaborator from his Art Feynman project, and Stuart, a musician he already knew in LA. When these three came together to rehearse, a spark ignited, revealing a creative connection that transcended that first show that brought them together. The album's lead single, "I Can Dream," originally appeared on Art Feynman's Half Price At 3:30. However, aer reworking it with the Cascading Moms, the song took on a new life. This reinvention exemplifies Certain Limitations' core concept: a collection of songs honed and reshaped through the improvisations and collaborative spirit of three musicians creating and exploring a new sonic world.

HIGHLIGHTS Originally released in 1980, this was Stiv Bators' first solo album. Now reissued with 2 bonus tracks, not available on the original version, a slightly different picture on the cover (the actual unfiltered photo as used on the 1980 issue) and a booklet with extensive liner notes and photos. Bators was the man who destroyed Rocket from the Tombs, from which he hijacked half the members to found one of the most influential American punk bands to have existed, The Dead Boys. Stiv had turned in his broken teeth for a more power pop oriented solo career. This is not an album recorded by a has-been former punk idealist; instead it's a true step forward into another unknown arena packing all the glare and attitude that remained from the last. The music is more similar to 60's power pop than the vicious punk rock that Bators became known for originally, while a member of The Dead Boys. New generations continue to discover it. It still holds up very well and sounds as fresh and vibrant as ever. DESCRIPTION On August 11th of 1980, Stiv Bators, David Quinton Steinberg, George Cabaniss and Frank Secich flew to Vancouver, in British Columbia, Canada. They were there to do the West Coast leg of the "URGH! A Music War" tour. On the bill of the tour were Pere Ubu, Magazine, the Members, and they were billed as Stiv Bators and the Dead Boys or just the Dead Boys. After the tour they were supposed to embark on a 6-week tour of Australia, New Zealand, and the Far East. During the beginning of the Urgh Tour the Australian Tour was abruptly canceled. Greg Shaw who owned Bomp Records decided that since the band were already going to be in California that they should do Stiv's solo album which they had planned to do after returning from Down Under. So, Bators and the rest of the group set up camp at the infamous Tropicana Motel in West Hollywood and Greg booked them into Perspective Studios in Sun Valley, CA. Before going into Perspective, they went into Andy Chappel's Stone Fox rehearsal studio in North Hollywood, CA for a few days to rehearse the songs and arrange them for the album. "We had 'Evil Boy' (Zero-Secich), David Quinton's 'Make Up Your Mind' and my song 'A Million Miles Away'. We also rearranged mine and Stiv's 'The Last Year' changing the key from D to F# and making it much easier to sing in a power pop vein. In addition, we had 'Swinging A Go-Go' another great contribution by George Cabaniss. Stiv and I had written two more for the album 'Ready Anytime' and the album closer 'I Wanna Forget You (Just the Way You Are)'. We also had a moody dark instrumental (written by Cabaniss-Quinton-Secich) that we were playing around with for some time. Stiv was supposed to write lyrics for it, but he never got around to it, so we left it as an instrumental. It had a great vibe and reminded me of the John Cassavetes 1956 film "Crime in The Streets" and was thus christened that. The last song we picked for the LP was 'I Had Too Much To Dream (Last Night)' which was the one cover we did that suited Stiv's voice perfectly. After a few days of rehearsing at Stone Fox, we went into Perspective Studio in Sun Valley, California. Greg hired Thom Wilson (who would later become a famous punk rock producer of Offspring, Iggy Pop, Dead Kennedys, T.S.O.L., Bad Religion and many others). Stiv co-produced with Thom and Andy Chappel and Thom did the engineering." Frank Secich recalls. In September, after the "Disconnected" mixing sessions, Stiv went to Baltimore to film "Polyester" with Movie Director John Waters and actors Tab Hunter and Divine. Stiv then went to the UK to record with the Wanderers doing their LP "Only Lovers Left Alive". He wanted to have both bands going simultaneously but logistically and practically they all knew that could never work. The "Disconnected" Band would do one last tour to support the album release of "Disconnected". The LP was released by Bomp Records on Monday December 08th, 1980. Later that night, John Lennon was murdered in New York City. So many of the principal characters involved in the creation of "Disconnected" have passed on. Stiv Bators (June 3rd, 1990), Greg Shaw (October 2nd, 2004), Thom Wilson (February 8th, 2015), and George Cabaniss (July 17th, 2020). But "Disconnected" lives on and on and has left quite a legacy for itself. There have been over 100 cover versions internationally of the songs from "Disconnected" and it has been in print and reissued in various forms in many countries around the world. New generations continue to discover it. It still holds up very well and sounds as fresh and vibrant as ever.

*REMASTERED ROUGH TRADE DEBUT LP LIMITED TO JUST 500 COPIES WITH EMBOSSED OUTER SLEEVE AND ORIGINAL INNER SLEEVE ON BLACK VINYL*

Dream POP, they called it. Given AR Kane’s Alex Ayuli once worked for advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi, it’s no surprise that he and collaborator Rudy Tambala invented their own genre before critics could stick their oar in. It was a canny move, but more importantly, it was accurate: the music of AR Kane was made for dreamers, by dreamers, and its languor and longing made it particularly bewitching listening; their music is often smeared and blurry, happily lost in its own indefinable pleasures. “We wanted dream pop,” Tambala says, “that feeling of a dream where the rules are different. Dream logic.”
-UNCUT REISSUE OF THE MONTH

"A.R. Kane carved out a unique musical path, welding elements of pop, psych, dub, electronica, funk, noise, jazz, ambient and more in a way that had never been done before. Or since. Their debut in particular is a work of unbridled brilliance."
*Electronic Sound*

‘Sixty Nine’ the group’s debut LP that emerged in 1988 had critics and listeners struggling to fit language around A.R. Kane’s sound. As a title it was telling - the year of ‘Bitches Brew’, the year of ‘In A Silent Way’, the erotic möbius between two lovers - and as originally coined by the band themselves,
‘dream pop’ (before it became a free-floating signifier of vague import) was entirely apposite for the music A.R. Kane were making. Crafted in a dark small basement studio in which Tambala recalls the duo had “complete freedom - We wanted to go as far out as we could, and in doing so we discovered the point where it stops being music”. There was an irresistibly dreamy, somnambulant, sensual and almost surreal flow to ‘sixty nine’s sound, but also real darkness/dankness, the ruptures of the primordial and the reverberations of the subconscious, within the grooves of remarkable songs like ‘Dizzy’ and ‘Crazy Blue’. Alex’s plangent vocals floated and surged amidst exquisite peals of refracted feedback but crucially there was BASS here, lugubrious and funky and full of dread, sonic pleasure and sonic disturbance crushed together to make music with a center so deep it felt subcutaneous, music constructed from both the accidental and the deliberate, generous enough to dance with both serendipity and chaos. ‘sixty nine’ remains - especially in this remastered iteration - ravishing, revolutionary – Neil Kulkarni


"A.R. Kane made some of the most exciting, forward-thinking, and science fictional music of their era".
*Reissue Of The Week In The Quietus*

Old Saw, the enigmatic New England collective led by Henry Birdsey (Tongue Depressor), return with their third long-playing record, Dissection Maps. It is not enough to trace the fields. The choreo-cartographic demands the casting of stone, a grassfire, a carnival; something with which to rupture the horizontality of existence and imagine the vertical. Earth is the eighth morning, folded against the week's work. The field is a line drawing of oblivion. The house is a forest in the shape of a womb. America is a quarry in the image of god. (Aidan Patrick Welby – 2024) “The band captures the American stretch, the spaces in-between and the hollowness that haunts us along those routes…fades the radio to static to let the nothingness linger among the soul.” (Raven Sings the Blues) “evokes an ambience of prayer-like solemnity that celebrates something decidedly terrestrial, what the label describes as “a rusted and granular shadow world where the dive bar meets the divine.” It recalls one of those junkyard shrines built by some sincere eccentric, improbably wonderful forms of weathered stone and scrap metal standing like totems to an unrecognised religion rooted in the earth around us.” (Various Small Flames)

French saxophonist Musina Ebobissé unveils ARMAUN, his third release under the Blendreed name. ARMAUN – Ambient Resistance Music Against Urban Noise – takes a stand against the interference of invasive irritants with sublime slow motion music. Its four pieces evoke an ecstatic peace, allowing both artist and listener to breathe deeply. As the compositions unfold, each exhalation resonates at the frequency of the human mind in repose.

Layers of treated and reverberant saxophone fuse into a hypnagogic whole, as elongated melodies interact with their own fragmented and transformed echoes. In a semi dream state, existence is experienced at a languid pace, as each phrase decays into a haze of crosscurrents.

If ARMAUN recalls the fourth world music of Jon Hassell and Eno, it equally finds oblique kinship with André 3000's "New Blue Sun". Likewise, it shares essential DNA with vaporwave and the tape-loop experiments of Terry Riley. Conceived as a confluence of acoustic and electronic elements, Blendreed explores the intersection of jazz, ambient, post-rock and experimental music.

This is work of exquisite beauty with a direct function. It provides an antidote to the bombardment of our senses. After unhooking your mind from temporal entanglements, ARMAUN will absorb your soul.

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.

In March 2023, @ turned heads with their debut album Mind Palace Music that utilized an array of acoustic instrumentation and densely layered harmonies, like the great outsider folk records of the 60s and 70s and placed it in a modern setting. If Mind Palace Music was @ playing on story mode, their new EP Are You There God? It’s Me, @ is the darker, stranger side quest.
Mind Palace Music was written in very specific circumstances. The band was formed while they were confined to their homes during quarantine — Victoria Rose in Philadelphia and Stone Filipczak in Baltimore — exchanging musical sketches over iMessage and email. Even though the world has opened back up and they’ve been able to play together live, this EP was again created remotely while in their respective cities. What did change, however, was the production.
Are You There God? It’s Me, @ is @’s foray into electronic music — consisting primarily of software instrumentation (with the occasional flute, guitar or bass part sprinkled in). The band’s experience producing in this style was minimal, but they found the new process to be a rewarding exercise allowing them to explore new textures and structures made possible by computer music. Where their previous acoustic recordings had a looser and more human feel, these new songs allowed them to experiment with autotune and quantized beats. Rose was able to resurrect her passion for classical choir by singing and recording a capella vocal arrangements to be incorporated into Filipczak’s instrumentals.
Across five songs, @ call upon a higher power, as the title suggests, in search of fulfillment. While they try to remain hopeful, daily suffering casts doubt on whether that high power even exists. On “Soul Hole,” overtop an autotuned vocal loop and hyper-pop-esque production, Rose repeats “I’m going to the soul hole and I’m never coming back,” hoping to leave behind the material world and the desires that comes with it. “Webcrawler,” named after the pioneering search engine, might be considered Are You There God?’s epic. @ sees their search for meaning in life akin to how search engines pull together data from all over the internet to find answers. The music itself is even reminiscent of dial-up internet connection, with droning keys and machine-like drum programming until overheating and erupting into chaos, in the form of heavy-metal shredding, only to cool down again back on a loading screen.
While the band confesses the departure from their usual sound may only be temporary, it’s an exciting listen full of twists and turns that surprised even themselves. “We’re both really dramatic in our musical sensibilities and don’t shy away from ridiculous choices,” Rose recalls, “which can really be exaggerated when working mostly with electronic sounds.” Full of soul searching and sonic experimentation, Are You There God? It’s Me, @ is an encapsulating spiritual saga for the digital age.

A home, a house, has countless frequencies. Each room, each corner feels different. Swings differently. And as you grow older, you realize which corner is yours. But yeah, it takes time…

It certainly marks the end of an era when the house one called home as a kid no longer exists. This home, it was the starting point of so many journeys. Of one big, ongoing journey. And so it feels good, soothing, reassuring to at least return to a spot nearby – to that (proverbial) hill from where you can see it. Feel the vibe that made you.

Andi Haberl’s debut solo album as Sun is sort of dedicated to that house. It’s a journey leading to that hill overlooking everything that made him. It’s not about nostalgia, not about actually returning to a specific place. Instead, it’s about finding a personal frequency, an overlapping of sounds and samples, an open space that mirrors and extends whatever frequencies felt right at different points in time.

“To me, the results feel like Gold Panda/Four Tet meets Steve Reich meets Krautrock meets film scores. I just really wanted to create moods that touch me – and ideally others, too.”

Talking about his first solo album, Haberl recalls many stages: early compositions that ended up on Alien Ensemble’s albums, early DIY/home studio/multi-instrumentalist inspirations (Le Millipede), new technologies that came and went, even a set of wildly convincing arrangements (done with Cico Beck’s crucial input) that ultimately became stepping stones for yet another round of DIY takes. “It was a long, recurring process, and the songs went through so many different versions,” he says, talking about phases of growth (“I added more and more equipment over time”) and pruning, “cleaning up my music a bit.” Tending towards instruments that open up space, and slowly falling in love with sampling, he certainly didn’t rush things once it was time for interior design decisions ;)

“During this whole process I got to learn so much about my own taste, how I prefer to listen to the pieces, which musical elements really matter to me… and what my own voice is. For example, that acoustic elements are most important to me: the banjo, piano, drums, my voice, glockenspiel, trumpet, melodica. Anything that opens up some space.”

Every journey begins with a search: “Missing” with its plucked chords opens like a sunrise over pastoral plains, gently leading the way towards the intricate, playful explosion that occurs once a certain amount of energy (“Sun”) hits dirt and other surfaces: things grow, clot and curdle into new shapes, like new buds; layers of sound move forward, drenched in Spring’s new light. Relying on samples to ask for precipitation (“Rain On Me”), robotic “Low” goes from barren to bass-heavy after its midway shift in pace, full of loops plucked from the shade.

Towards the album’s midpoint, things are suddenly reversed: “Cluster” has that backwards pull, you can’t tell what’s what, yet everything is perfectly locked in, as the pace increases once again. And before the title song shimmers with densified cheering (to eventually stand tall like early Lymbyc Systym), “Beside Me” swipes you off your feet with its booming bass drum. The beat returns once again (“Daydream”), full of searching voices underneath, and at “Dawnday,” we can finally catch a melancholy view of the house. Voices hum. It’s the score moment of the album. Everything makes sense now. A happy end of sorts?

“I want to take people on a journey. A personal journey, too, because when my parents split up and sold the house I grew up in, I felt a bit like the ground had fallen out from under my feet. But I have dedicated the album title and the accompanying piece to this house… so I can keep it in good memory.”

“I Can See Our House From Here” has been a long time coming. It’s been a long journey. Homeward-bound. Leading to a place that’s really Haberl’s – his sound. His frequencies.

Known as a long-time member of The Notwist and various other bands/projects (Alien Ensemble, AMEO, jersey, Ditty etc.), Berlin-based drummer/composer Andi Haberl has also worked with My Brightest Diamond, Till Brönner, Owen Pallet, and Kurt Rosenwinkel, to name a few. “I Can See Our House From Here” is his first solo offering.