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~~~From Mississippi and Olvido Records~~~~~~ Steel-string guitar and vocals by the great Giorgos Katsaros, a mythic figure of Greek rembetiko. Our obsession with underground Greek music continues with 10 ultra-rare recordings of heartbreak and vice from rembetiko legend Giorgos Katsaros. Katsaros, who by some accounts lived to be over 100 years old, carried the old songs of Greece to the Diaspora in the United States, bridging centuries of music in one storied lifetime. Born in 1901 on the Greek island of Amorgos, Katsaros' was enchanted with the songs he picked up as a kid in the streets of Piraeus and Athens. Encouraged by his grandfather, an amateur singer, Katsaros developed a style that mirrored his upbringing - centuries-old Asia Minor songs, island rhythms of his homeland, well-known Athenian songs of the time, and anonymous `rebetiko' songs. Katsaros' songbook was vast, but he was most drawn to the street life and music of the manges of early 20th-century Greece: outcasts who dealt with the indignities of an unstable economy and an inauspicious future with the old standbys: wine, hash, and dancing. These ten tracks are remastered from Katsaros's 64 surviving early recordings, many rarely heard since their original release. Hypnotic melodies plucked over repeating thumbed basslines back his deep, mournful voice. Katsaros brought this nostalgic late-night music to smoke-filled rooms of Greek exiles in Chicago, Philly, and New York, where he emigrated in 1917. He continued to travel the country and play until his music was supplanted by more modern styles in the 1950s. He retired to the town of Tarpon Springs, FL, famous for its Greek sponge fishers, til a late-in-life revival brought him back to Greece for a few massive concerts and national accolades in the 1990s. Like many great artists, Katsaros carefully curated his own mythic backstory over the decades. He sometimes claimed he was born in 1888, making him 109 on his passing, and conflicting accounts of his birth and travels circulate to this day. Greek researchers Stavros Kourousis and Konstantinos Kopanitsanos, who also compiled these tracks, contribute groundbreaking new historical research on Katsaros' life. Lyrics, poetically translated by Tony Klein, further fill in the picture. Clean and rare 78s were remastered by Stereophonic. Katsaros has never sounded better than on this LP, pressed on red vinyl, with extensive notes and lyrics.

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

Just under a year after their acclaimed self-titled debut, dreampop duo deary release a brand new six-track EP – Aurelia – via Sonic Cathedral on November 1. It includes the singles ‘The Moth’, ‘Selene’ and ‘The Drift’ and features Slowdive drummer Simon Scott playing on three songs. It will be available on three different vinyl variants, a CD with three bonus tracks and digitally. It’s a stunning record, which displays a new-found maturity in terms of production as well as musically and lyrically. The band – singer Rebecca ‘Dottie’ Cockram and guitarist/producer Ben Easton – have had to grow up in public since the release of their debut single at the start of 2023, supporting legends such as Slowdive and Cranes and TikTok sensations like Wisp along the way. An aurelian is a rare old term for a lepidopterist – someone who studies and collects moths – derived from the Latin aurelia, meaning chrysalis. The perfect title for an EP which is based around the theme of metamorphosis and change. “It leans on the natural world, the human body, the earth and sky as well as human emotion,” says Ben of how the EP represents physical and metaphysical growth. “Change can be daunting but equally exciting, which is something we’ve come to learn.” “While writing the EP, I found a letter I had written to myself when I was 22,” adds Dottie. “I was fresh out of university and had moved back in with my parents as Covid was in full force. I was uninspired and lost and reaching out to my future self for some hope. It was a physical representation of what can happen in a few years; how much can change and how you never know what’s coming next. “I found it interesting that – at the age of 26 – here I was looking back to my younger self for hope or just some comfort in the fact that things will and do move on. It was important to me to bring both of these versions of myself into the new songs.” “Personally, I had noticed a change in myself; a new level of social anxiety, a strange disassociation to things that once brought me joy as well as negative repetitions in my daily life,” reveals Ben. “I began the year sober which allowed me to finish the writing process as a letter of care to my own mental health. There are motifs throughout the EP – for example the riffs in ‘The Moth’ and ‘The Drift’ being reminiscent of each other – which are like musical reflections of these repeated cycles.” It’s musically where the change deary have undergone is most obvious. ‘The Moth’ mixes howling guitars atop a strident breakbeat making it more Curve than Cocteaus; ‘Selene’ is a slow-building wall of noise; ‘The Drift’ combines a perfect pop melody with an incredible sense of urgency. These three singles are balanced by the brief but beautiful ‘Where You Are’ which leads into the Portishead-style trip-hop of ‘Dream Of Me’. The title track has been a staple of their live sets for about a year as ‘Can’t Sleep Tonight’, but its mix of The Cure circa Disintegration and Mezzanine Massive Attack has grown and evolved so much that they renamed it ‘Aurelia’ as the embodiment of the change they have been through. “We’ve allowed deary to naturally grow over the past year, we didn’t want to force it to take a certain shape or sound,” explains Dottie of the duo’s slow and steady approach. “A lot of the last EP was written by sending ideas back and forth over WhatsApp, but this time we were able to sit in the same room and I think that really shows. We know each other a lot better now as we have experienced this journey together and that benefits the writing process as we are more open with each other and can be vulnerable.” “Aurelia definitely feels a lot more collaborative, more personal and more fully realised than the first EP,” concludes Ben. “It feels like a real document of what has been a very important time in both of our lives. Ironically, the band has changed and matured even more since the recording, so we’re both excited to document the next stage

Red Vinyl. Listening to Fashion Club's self-produced second album A Love You Cannot Shake feels like being caught in the crossfire of a profound beam of light. You can't help but feel both enlivened and exposed as its aberrant synth lines, artful strings and disfigured guitars swell into larger-than-life crescendos, which evoke a divine yet probing spotlight. Pascal Stevenson, the Los Angeles-based musician behind Fashion Club, likens the experience of hearing A Love You Cannot Shake to staring into the sun, and though the record wasn't written with religion in mind, its heavenly sonics and emotional sagacity also make it feel like a prophetic encounter. The album was shaped by Stevenson's gender transition and sobriety journey and parses her fluid emotions surrounding these events and other personal trials and tribulations. But as much as it's a dialogue between Stevenson's current and former selves, it's also an invitation for listeners to join her in the work of discarding bitterness and re-centering hope, especially when such efforts feel futile. Musically, A Love You Cannot Shake is an unshackling of expectations, as Stevenson's previous stint as bassist in the L.A. post-punk outfit Moaning and her first record as Fashion Club, 2022's Scrutiny, didn't necessarily reflect the full range of her taste, which includes ambient, pop, classical and dance music, or embody her sensitive tenderness and femininity. A Love You Cannot Shake also thrives on a fluid sonic palette. The album's magnetic immersiveness hinges on its strange dynamic shifts, jagged production and ambitious song structures with parts that don't repeat_choices influenced by her love of left-field electro-pop and her classical music background. While Stevenson handled most of the instrumentals on Scrutiny, this LP is much more collaborative, featuring an array of contributors who lent strings, piano, pedal steel and more. Plus, this album boasts country harmonies from Perfume Genius ("Forget"), high-pitched coos from Jay Som ("Ghost") and gauzy whispers from Julie Byrne ("Rotten Mind"). Stevenson's vocal evolution is also on display with this record, embracing a softer delivery that's more reflective of her personality and identity.

Love Is A Flame In The Dark is the debut album by experimental songwriter Karl D’Silva. A raw labour of love, a towering spire of twisted steel, tenderness and becoming, it’s a body of songs that belies the virtuoso talents of an artist whose reputation has been built on collaborating with various avant garde underground luminaries. Self-recorded at home in Rotherham and pulsing with the conviction of a true believer, these songs burst out of their self-consciousness to meet life head on, bristling with energy, 10 glimpses of the human spirit in the darkness.
Recorded throughout 2021 - 2023 and mixed in Leeds with engineer Ross Halden, D’Silva has constructed a Pop language for himself. Mutated songs that owe a small debt to the post-Industrial music of Cabaret Voltaire, Nine Inch Nails and Coil, they’re nonetheless powered by a vigorous tenderness, earnestness and D’Silva’s knack for melody. Each song is meticulously sound-designed, using synthesised sounds created from scratch married with D’Silva’s virtuoso playing on saxophone and guitar. The songs on Love Is A Flame In The Dark are unabashed, earnest love letters to living, requiems for a world fading away and small gestures of solidarity in the face of entropy.
Until now, D’Silva’s fingerprints could be found on live dates with Thurston Moore, Oren Ambarchi, Hardcore pioneers Siege and Rian Treanor as well as recordings by previous groups Trumpets Of Death and Drunk In Hell. Primarily associated with the alto saxophone in his improvisation work, Love Is A Flame In The Dark features a dizzying array of instrumentation, all played by D’Silva. D’Silva’s current membership of the group Vanishing may be a good touchstone for the dense, sonically thrilling world-building on the album but the most
striking instrument, perhaps, is D’Silva’s voice. With a soulful, rasping timbre resulting from prolonged intubation as a new-born, his vocal is both fearless and tender. On the soaring, electronic body mover Wild Kiss, thundering percussion is in service to Karl’s voice full of desire, arching up into a flayed falsetto. It’s a trick repeated on Flowers Start To Cry, where it’s deployed against the backdrop of layers of ripping alto and thudding drum programming that recall Nine Inch Nails’ visceral production, if they were covering a Prince hit. These songs capture the essence of 2024’s Karl D’Silva music; pure physicality
breaking down to reveal a shining, compassionate vulnerability.
The full breadth of Karl D’Silva’s instrumental prowess is in evidence from the off. On The Outside imagines blooming out of personal apocalypse with a soundscape of synth, saxophone worthy of any late 60s Free Jazz blower and crushing sound design. Entropy is planet-sized synth pop, Nowhere Left To Run uses midi-string orchestration to tell a story of light emerging from the dark. It’s a theme picked up
throughout the album: The Butcher is a political parable, the narrator holding power to account with grotesque, brutal imagery. It’s on a track
like Real Life that the true message emerges, however. D’Silva is peering through the layers of artifice, struggle and the fog of daily
living to find a life full of energy, connection and light. Each song here is a route into this light, out of the darkness.

Elias Rønnenfelt is a musician and poet best known as the lead singer and lyricist of Iceage. Heavy Glory is his debut solo album. Out October 25th via Escho. Heavy Glory was recorded in Copenhagen in chapters and moments over the course of a year. Collaborators include Iceage's Dan Kjær Nielsen, Danish punk godfather Peter Peter, and singers Joanne Robertson (Elias and Joanne have collaborated before, on a number of recent Dean Blunt releases) and Fauzia. "I've done this so many times," Rønnenfelt explains, speaking of the process of crafting a long player, "but capturing and crystallising an album remains a singular ritual, just with different circumstances. We are capturing something that is hard to hold down." Heavy Glory is a record that examines all the things that lovers do, from the most desperate to the most pure. The lover haunts the record, reappearing and provoking Rønnenfelt, pulling him in and pushing him away. Songs like "Close" describe the line between jealousy and protectiveness. "Unarmed" is a song of surrender. "River of Madeleine" harnesses toughness in the name of preservation, staying up all night to protect his lover's dreams. "Stalker" is an epic third-person story song in the tradition of the murder ballad. The record closes with two covers. The first, Spacemen 3's "Sound of Confusion," is a mission statement of the life Rønnenfelt has found and inherited in music. "Here it comes," the song famously promises, and flares out into noise. It is a joyful noise, because this life, in all its grit, is the life he chose. The second, Townes Van Zandt's "No Place to Fall," is a sweet plea, Rønnenfelt's final invitation to join him on his journey. This journey - this story, this record - will repeat and continue. It never stops. Rønnenfelt's life as an artist results in a sound that wobbles and rocks but never loses its centre, both fragile and tough, and always moving forward. It is dreamy yet bombastic, held together by the passion of certainty. Co-produced by Rønnenfelt and Nis Bysted.

John Williams' Home Alone soundtrack is a heartwarming classic that perfectly complements the holiday season. Known for his work on Star Wars, E.T.and Harry Potter, Williams brings the same orchestral magic to this beloved Christmas film. The score includes memorable tracks like 'Somewhere in My Memory,' a recurring theme throughout the film, and 'Star of Bethlehem,' which captures the festive spirit with choral and orchestral elegance. The standout track, 'Setting the Trap,' diverges from Williams' usual orchestral sound, incorporating electronics and percussion to enhance Kevin's creative showdown with the burglars. Alongside traditional Christmas carols like 'O Holy Night' and 'Carol of the Bells,' the soundtrack blends nostalgia with whimsy. Though the album repeats familiar motifs, its charm makes it a refreshing alternative to typical holiday music. The Home Alone soundtrack is available in a limited edition red and gold vinyl 2xLP, making it an essential for any festive playlist. Whether it's playing while decorating the tree or enjoying Christmas cookies, this release brings the holiday spirit alive.

If you haven’t been living under the rock you certainly know who Marilin is. Marinella is an Italian-born, London-based artist who with her utmost professionalism is no stranger to the powers of light and darkness, that depends on the mood of the party she is performing at. However here we will leave the light alone and focus on the darkness. Favoured by sir Craig Richards himself, Mariiin has toured the globe playing at the most different and unique events that has given her the edge and insightful knowledge she possesses. Whether she takes people on the musical journeys by herself or with her partner in crime Bobby, it is always an experience that is impossible to forget with the burning desire to repeat and repeat infinite number of times.

Her solo EP “La Notte” has a very unique and defined dark character which has landed on the label with absolutely in sync with its vision.

"Redrawing pop music’s borders in the early 21st century, London trio Sugababes occupy an important
place in the history of British music. Formed in London in 1998, the group seamlessly combined
mainstream pop with cutting-edge R&B, soul and dance music – and they added to this intoxicating mix
on 2002’s Angels With Dirty Faces, an album which brought avant-garde electronic music to the masses.
This landmark second album from Sugababes includes the era-defining ‘Freak Like Me’, which, helmed
by underground producer Richard X, rode a sample of Tubeway Army’s ‘Are “Friends” Electric?’ all the
way to the top of the UK charts in the spring of 2002. Led by the guiding hand of the Xenomania
production team, ‘Round Round’ repeated the trick, paving the way for Angels With Dirty Faces to clean
up that summer, going triple-platinum and scoring Sugababes the 2003 BRIT Award for Best British
Dance Act.


"

It is summer dawn . . . and you are alone. Here is music for your strange mood. The piano starts the first track, slow tempo beat, a strict beat, a swinging beat. Lillemor—here minor harmonies give the tune a rural, romantic feeling of some place in Spain or France. The tempo changes to medium fast—the flute solos. Light phrasing contrasts beautifully to the earthy, swinging beat of the rhythm section and the repeating piano figures. The trombone adds a new color, a counterpoint of sound and phrasing, backed by the pulsating beat of this wonderful rhythm and the driving piano. Summer dawn . . . This music has more to offer, because it shows the personality of Sahib Shihab at its best. Sahib is a universal musician who reflects musical experiences in jazz since the end of the thirties. He lived through the important periods of modern jazz with his heart and mind wide open toward everything that was good music, regardless of being termed "Mainstream", "Bop", "Cool", "Westcoast", "Eastcoast", "Hard Bop'', et cetera. When you listen closely to his music, you will find traces of all these, but they are immersed in his deep musicianship and his true jazz personality. Sahib Shihab's background reads like the record of a master of advanced studies. Furthermore he played and collaborated with the coolest jazz musician of that period. Above all let's name Budd Johnson, Theolonius Monk, Tadd Dameron, Milt Jackson, Dizzy Gillespie, Illinois Jaquet, Elmer Snowden, Luther Henderson, Larry Noble, Fletcher Henderson, Roy Eldridge. In his early professional years, Sahib was heard mostly on alto sax; later, more often on baritone sax and flute. Today, his name is inseparably connected with these two instruments. The unity of his jazz performances is not alone bound up with the com¬positions and the arrangements of Sahib Shihab, though in their understated simplicity they have a melodic beauty that is seldom found in jazz of today. The rhythmical subtleties add to the overall qualities of being relaxed vehicles for free-blowing, but there is an immediacy that you hear and feel every moment when listening which defies analysis. The playing of the rhythm section helps greatly to promote the sense of flux and contrasting constant renewal that makes listening to this record so invigorating an experience. Well, this is no surprise, with Kenny Clarke as the nucleus of the rhythm group. Kenny 'Klook' Clarke is a major figure and contributor in jazz, one of the founders of modern jazz, and is ranked as one of the all-time great drummers. He influenced a whole generation of musicians with his playing, though living in Paris since the middle of the fifties somewhat dimmed his name to the general American public. Nevertheless, his name alone will assure a connoisseur to expect top class musical experiences. Talking of the rhythm section we have to name Jimmy Woode's bass, which together with Kenny's drumming, is the driving force for the group and the reliable harmonic anchor for the improvisors. By the way, Jimmy has been with the Duke quite a while, and this alone is an award for extraordinary craftsmanship and artistry. The good sounding rhythm with its full-bodied color is also a result of the added bongos of Joe Harris, who manages to stay out of the way of the players—a quality not often found with drummers—but his playing is felt through the set. There are two members of the group not yet mentioned. Two Europeans, pianist-composer-arranger Francy Boland from Belgium, and trombonist Ake Persson from Sweden. Francy Boland this time is a sideman, though normally he is a leader of recording sessions, both as composer-arranger and as musical director of the band. In the fifties he was in the States writing arrangements for different name-bands, such as Basie and Goodman. In Europe, he is famous for his swinging modern big band arrangements; and his inventiveness as a writer is reflected in his piano playing. He has the talent of using the right dynamic approach every moment, thus making his playing helpful to soloists and interesting for listeners as well. Ake Persson has been Scandinavia's out-standing trombone player for about ten years. There are only a few trombonists in Europe who might match his talents at times, but they lack the consistency of his playing. He is impressive, whether playing in a big band, or whether main soloist in his own small groups. American musicians love the sound of his slide trombone and his easily flowing romantic improvisations, so he often joins American name-bands as they travel in Europe. The music speaks alone . . . , we said it before. You have your soul to feel the beauty, to follow lines and structure, and to enjoy the spiritual excitement. Whether you enjoy the flowing, easy sounding theme of "Please Don't Leave Me", or the climaxing piano solo in the same piece—the bass solo in "Waltz For Seth" or the swinging baritone sax—listen to the first bars of this solo and pay attention to Kenny. Whether you listen to "Campi's Idea", (named after Gigi Campi, the well known Cologne jazz enthusiast who organized this recording) with the romantic flute solo of Sahib, the interesting tempo changes, the piano comping, the moving trombone solo; or to the up-tempo "Herr Fixit", with the cooking Kenny and humorous, driving flute solo, you know that these six musicians where in the right mood, in the right stimulating surroundings to feel what we all feel when it's: SUMMER DAWN.

Kill Emil is a Greek DJ and producer, based in Athens, who since 2009 has produced tracks with powerful and sophisticated rhythms and vaporous atmospheres.

Influenced as much by Latin and Jamaican music as by Hip-Hop, Kill Emil regularly collaborates with artists such as l'Entourloop (on their album “Le Savoir Faire”), The Architect, Taiwan MC and Marina P.

Deja Vu is a sonic journey through nostalgic rhythms and fresh beats, offering listeners a blend of the familiar and the new. Each track is a testament to Kill Emil's dedication to the craft, featuring meticulously crafted layers that invite repeated listens.

The principles of pleasure radiate a knowing, carnal heat throughout the genre-fluid sound of LSDXOXO. His decade of dedication to the sensibility of underground club culture has brought forth club classics interwoven with pop music hooks and subversive, tongue-in-cheek lyrics.

After four years of what LSDXOXO, real name RJ Glasgow, calls a period of “healing and self-discovery,” he is consolidating his multiplicitous sound with one compelling masterstroke: the debut album DOGMA, to be released on his own imprint F.A.G. DOGMA marks a complete paradigmatic shift: it is a poetic and fantastical performance, a route for deep escapism through an expanded musical palette including piano and guitar, and a deeply personal confessional through a fresh approach to songcrafting.

Within DOGMA, RJ meditates on the interlinked qualities of fame, infamy, lust and submission, as he rediscovers a pure, unadulterated approach to music-making, all the while adopting a futurist approach to pop music appreciation. RJ’s unmistakable signatures—the smutty dancefloor caller, the maker of irresistible bangers, the latter-day electroclash and DnB nostalgist—take on even more shades and intricacies. Despite his widespread acclaim as a collaborator with and songwriter for other artists, RJ strips DOGMA down almost exclusively to himself, carving out intentional space as a chameleonic vocalist and performer. He breathes life into the album with private thoughts, external fears and a red thread through personal themes that crystallise the album’s narrative from front to back.

The album’s promo single “Bloodlust” offers angsty, intimate indie-tronica, and musings on the intoxicating nature of love and infatuation. The lead single “Ghost” reaches beyond RJ’s Philadelphia origins to find itself in the deep south, in a sultry fever dream of coquettish R&B featuring backing vocals from close collaborator Kelela. Elsewhere on the album futuristic love, pensive pop earworms, evocative vintage dance styles and sleazy club tracks intermingle. While the DOGMA era will eventually explore remixes and reworks, the album is RJ’s purest embrace of himself and his artistry.

RJ first garnered attention as LSDXOXO in New York City with his on-the-pulse Soundcloud edits and then as part of the cult GHE20GOTH1K collective. His DJ sets and productions quickly earned him acclaim across globally-linked underground scenes. His decision to shift from sampled vocals to picking up the pen and microphone pushed his reach out to the stratosphere; his association with XL Recordings via the Dedicated 2 Disrespect EP in 2021 was a turning point for the burgeoning superstar.

This multiplicity of the LSDXOXO sound has led to enviable co-signs. These include being selected as the opening DJ for Beyoncé’s German Renaissance tour dates, remixing Lady Gaga, Pink Pantheress and Shygirl and producing five tracks for Kelela's highly acclaimed 2023 album for Warp Records, Raven. His fully-realised live show has also taken to the stage, serving fierce charisma to huge audiences at festivals including Primavera, Nuits Sonores and Rewire.

Marking the follow-up to acclaimed 2023 EP ‘Empathy Lives In Outer Space’, the impressive quartet kick off their EP campaign with visceral lead track ‘Shapeshifting’, showcasing another unbridled display of powerful emotion and effortless vocals, powered by their phenomenal rhythmic instrumentation.

Hailed by The Sunday Times as “an intriguing musical concoction that doffs its cap to grunge, The Kinks, Iggy Pop and T.Rex”, and accompanied with press support from many highly recognised publications (DIY, Dork, Clash, The Line Of Best Fit, Rough Trade, The Forty-Five), the band have fast become mainstays on the BBC 6 Music (Steve Lamacq), Radio X (playlisted) and Sirius FM airwaves. With their biggest ever headline show announced for The Lexington, London this September to coincide with their EP release, Human Interest are primed to kick on in the summer months, with multiple festival appearances lined up to build on recent supports with the likes of English Teacher, Self Esteem and Hinds.

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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.

Carving an unlikely and elaborate niche in the stoney academic landscape
which she once shared with the likes of Phill Niblock, John Cage and Sorel
Hayes, the excitable proto-punk poèmes sonores of the linguistic loose
cannon known as Beth Anderson first rolled through New York in the mid-
1970s (from Kentucky via San Francisco) like a jumbled tumbleweed of lost
Letterism, face paint and threadbare drummy funk to astonish gallery floors,
lecture theatres and loft apartment stages.
One thousand leagues under the radar of the commercial music industry,
with a sense of humour that elevated way above her highbrow peer group,
the music of Beth Anderson has successfully evaded the pressing plant for
most of her creative career, and not unlike fellow New York gallery actionist
Suzanne Ciani, it has taken decades to successfully collect and contextualise
these early recordings - expanding her elusive discography beyond the rare
and mysterious solo single entry in the process.
When uttered amongst the type of vinyl vampires that haplessly gravitate
between both art school vintage vanity pressings and family funded plunder
funk, there’s an outside chance that the name Beth Anderson might muster
some vague recognition on account of her one and only solo wax sojourn
into the expansive DIY market. In 1980 the 45rpm single, ‘I Can’t Stand It’,
combusted into the consciousness of adventurous participants with its deep
rhythmic backbeat (courtesy of future Sonic Youth / Dinosaur Jr producer
Wharton Tiers, member of the new wave band Theoretical Girls), climaxing
with two colourful and commanding linguistic tantrums before disappearing in
a puff of smoke leaving would-be fans dumbstruck without so much as a
label name or distribution contact to explain what they had just heard.
For those who have spent the subsequent years on the edge of that same
seat, it might come as some comfort knowing that somewhere out there,
there is also a contrasting world of gallery patrons and experimental sound
poetry enthusiasts that similarly didn’t know that their regular performance
poet Beth Anderson even made the ambitious pop record. For the uninitiated,
the enigmatic Beth Anderson has straddled both sides of the art / rock fence
placed between two equally niche pastures.
Hopefully this first ever vinyl compendium will succeed in joining the dots,
loops, yelps, squeaks, beats and repeats. Let us follow Beth’s lineage, along
her magnetic tape highways crossing multiple boundaries in a hope to bridge
unlikely anti-genres like ‘yoga punk’, ‘ramble rap’, ‘combustion pop’ and
‘formroom funk’… all of which were officially neatly bracketed under the
curious Text-Sound movement where Beth garnered utmost respect as a key
practitioner.

PM Warson returns with the new album "A Little More Time". Having established himself as "one of the leading lights on the modern-day R&B scene" (Shindig! magazine UK), his third long-player represents an expansion of his mid-century vision. Less a departure, more an arrival, the album moves beyond the R&B revivalism of his previous work, taking in a breadth of styles and moods within its distinctly '60s sonics.

Recorded at Lightship 95, London's floating analogue studio, the 10 original tracks combine the direct feel of live performance, alongside a developed songwriting and production approach. The album is led by the second single (following "Right Here, Last night") and title track "A Little More Time" setting the tone with a dose of sweeping vintage pop and uptown soul. "For this record I wanted to channel the sound I'd developed playing live with a band, while at the same time further exploring my songwriting. I allowed my wider influences to permeate a bit more and placed the vocal and lyric more forward in the songs" PM Warson says.

PM Warson is a UK musician, songwriter and producer. He emerged in 2021 with the album "True Story", after a series of DIY vinyl releases. Breakout single "(Don't) Hold Me Down" surfaced initially among soul collectors (with the original release clocking in at over $200 on collector sites), before finding a wider audience on European radio and streaming platforms.

With touring opportunities limited due to the ongoing pandemic travel restrictions, he turned his attention to a quick-fire follow-up. The lean, brooding "Dig Deep Repeat" was released in May 2022, led by the single "Leaving Here". Extensive tour and festival dates throughout Europe followed, where he gained a reputation as an impressive live act, performing alongside the likes of Cedric Burnside, Robert Finley, Nick Waterhouse and GA20.

After a run of dates in France, and an appearance at the legendary 100 Club in London, he set about working on new music during 2023. Having released the single "Right Here, Last Night" as a 7inch vinyl on his own Acid Jazz-distributed FYND marque, he teams up again with Légère Recordings for his third album, the expansive "A Little More Time".

The next album in our Cuban Classics series is a hard one to pigeonhole. It’s a real oddity, unique and not in keeping with the majority of Cuban albums we know, but it's all the better for this. Coming courtesy of Juan Almeida, the Fantasia LP is an eclectic and epic, instrumental ride through Latin jazz-funk, trippy electronics and orchestrated classical music. Sounding at points like a full-blown orchestrated score to a dusty animated film extravaganza, with phrases and passages repeating like the appearance of ghostly spectres throughout the recording. At others, it busts into exotic funk, psychedelic-trippiness and Afro-Cuban percussion.

As rich and varied as the record, so too was Juan Almeida's (Juan Almeida Bosque) life. A descendant of African slaves born in a poor neighbourhood in Havana in 1927, Almeida went from bricklayer to university law student, through which he would meet Fidel Castro. He played a key role in the Cuban revolution, becoming the only black commander and famously voicing “Aqui no se rinde nadie!” (“Nobody here surrenders!”) when outnumbered at the start of the offensive. Castro would later make him one of his vice presidents, but Almeida’s legacy does not stop there. He also became the composer of over 300 popular Cuban songs, many of them recounting his days as a guerrilla.

Produced, orchestrated and conducted by Rafael Somavilla, who worked on a vast array of Cuban recordings including Raúl Gómez's 'Instrumental' which we also reissued on Mr Bongo, the feel of Fantasia is big, luscious, grand and pop-classical. It has become a highly sought-after, cult Cuban rarity amongst collectors and like many great albums, every repeat listen brings with it new elements previously unnoticed. Such is its richness and depth. A truly mesmerising, off-the-beaten-track instrumental record.

ARR049 Brizman - Tomorrow Is A New Day Craving for that perfect serving of benchmark minimal house with a flavor of psy-chill and euromantic? The Kyiv based vinyl label Artreform Records is ready to treat you to a tasty new EP by the long-established chef Roy Brizman. His new release, Tomorrow Is A New Day, looks well-prepped for repeating the success of Midnight Tales, the previous Artreform offering by Brizman from 2021. Brizman is a star of the Israeli electronic scene. Roy is also known as Gel Abril in Tel Aviv and far beyond. He has been in great creative form lately, releasing many new tracks and remixes his latest twist on Depeche Modes Policy of Truth" is just one example. Roy offers three new tracks in one sitting this time-a triad united by an overarching mood and atmosphere. It's the perfect soundtrack for diving deep into your feelings and thoughts right on the dance floor. The producers signature micro-house groove is so clear and transparent that you can hear the distant echoes of past electronic music-from New Age to Balearic. The release concludes with the lead track remixed by the ro-minimal star Floog. This gifted producer is alternatively known as George G-a member of the Premiesku project, which also includes Livio and Roby.

After releasing my album 'ÖÐRUVÍSI,' which was a very personal and emotionally challenging project, I felt the need to make something weird and energetic for the club. I’m really into tunes that feel both slow and fast simultaneously.

The first track on the EP, 'Let’s be Havin u,' was initially hard to place genre-wise, i ended up sending it to Darren, who loved it and wanted to sign it. Releasing on Exit kinda feels like earning a black belt as a producer hah. I never imagined that a decade after buying Exit 12”s in 2014, I’d be releasing my own music on the label.

When I started making the EP, I had just begun performing again. I often saw people on the dance floor, too out of it to enjoy the music and often some of them having to be carried by their friends to backstage. This made me wanna make tunes for the dance floor as a bit of a statement on this. I first tested 'Let’s be Havin u' at Prikið in Reykjavik, sounded mad on the little old funktion one. The moment I knew that I was onto something with the EP was when I was Performing in Bristol at Thekla for my friend Boofy. It was wild, the ceiling started leaking during the show. I Love Bristol, feels like home to me.

Most of the percussion and hats on the EP are made with an Elektron Model Cycles, and the synths and pads are from a 80s Yamaha hybrid FM/sample synth I found at a thrift store. It doesn’t have MIDI, so I have to record perfect takes for chords and melodies. I often use pedals afterwards or resample the sounds for more tonal control.

I enjoy digging for records with unique breaks to sample, as I feel this is lacking nowadays. I usually make all my drums from scratch but when I use breaks I like it to be something I haven’t heard before. The alien percussion sound in the last track is actually me biting my teeth together, resampled repeatedly and ran through pedals and interfaces. I also recorded myself chewing gum for the second track to give it that hand on the hip feel. Most of the EP is made with hardware, outboard gear, or real-life recordings.

I’m not concerned about the EP fitting a specific genre or playlist. Too many artists play it safe by focusing on their Spotify stats and abandoning projects that don’t work instantly. I think also Obsessive nostalgia stifles innovation, keeping things stuck in a loop by replicating to the tee, tunes from 2 decades ago. I get it, but there has to be a middle ground sometimes.

Alter is proud to present the debut full length release from devotional music outfit Unstern, a collaborative effort between deep ambient artist Arzat Skia and prodigal pianist Leo Svirsky. Co-mixed by Swedish electronic music luminary Civilistjävel! and Arzat Skia and mastered to tape by Stefan Betke, the album features lush electronics, two pianos refracting across the stereo field, processed recordings from the Peruvian Amazon, bowed percussion by Greg Stuart, alongside strings and renaissance meantone organ recorded at Orgelpark in Amsterdam.

The results are an abundant audio illusion where what seemingly repeats slowly over time morphs in a manner where the destination escapes the departure point with extreme discretion, a reverent nod to Morton Feldman's compositional method of "Crippled Symmetry."

Throughout Es Geht Der Tag there is a muted, refined melancholy imbued with a constantly fluctuating pulse which generates a sense of temporal disorientation, leaving the listener lost in a strange yet not at all unfamiliar sonic labyrinth. It is a journey whereby a glorious subtle tension exists between the grandiose and the restrained.

This is environmental music, not in the sense of capturing nature itself, more with regards to an unfolding of audio elements which move in a manner in tune with the multitude of flows in the world.

Unstern’s Es Geht Der Tag is a deep mental journey, rich in subtle transcendental tendencies and psychic liberation.

This is the repeated call and the rallying chorus of the nearly 40-minute centerpiece to composer and percussionist Asher Gamedze’s new album Constitution. The expansive double album, a minoritarian fellowship in breath, is Gamedze’s follow-up to 2023’s Turbulence and Pulse (IARC0057), and his first with The Black Lungs. The album – recorded in one day at Cape Town’s Sound and Motion Studios – is an elaboration of the possibilities of autonomous constitution in and through polyrhythmic, modal, large ensemble music.
On Constitution, the power of the question, the possibility of an improvised answer and the celebration of being together exists not in the solo but in the group, the ensemble. Here The Black Lungs collectively explore and deconstruct the conceptual, tonal, and atonal possibilities of themes which are at once of old and new dreams - curious and instantiative, melancholic and emergent.

“The Black Lungs is inspired by the revolutionary thought and practice of the Black Consciousness Movement. In particular, the relationship between antagonism – constituting a united front of all the oppressed against white supremacy and racial capitalism – and the possibilities for resistance and elaboration - the creative militant capacities of those assembled – enabled and unleashed by that process of constitution.”

Formed back in 2011 in Savannah, GA, Triathalon consists of Chad Chilton, Hunter Jayne and Adam Intrator. Over the years the band has experimented with multiple sounds, releasing 3 albums, one EP and has shared collaborations with several artists. Their newest release "Sleep Cycle" blends fresh but familiar sounds; there's a meditative quality to the music that is especially welcoming in the current climate. Mastered by long time collaborator Alex Previty, a few of the tracks across the EP have mantra-like lyrics - simple thoughts repeated over and over that twist and turn and slowly morph into subtle ear worms.

The Circus is a place of lights and colors, but also of shadows, even darkness. Admittedly, it delights children and makes adults laugh. But you only need one rainy autumn evening near a circus tent and the smell of fodder to think of the sadness of the clowns, the endless training of the animals and the freaks who are hidden in some caravan... cinema, the essence of the circus – movement, light, danger and burlesque – will have been admirably rendered in Notes on the circus by Jonas Mekas (1966), one of the inventors of the filmed diary. With Cirque, Michèle Bokanowski does similar work, entirely dedicated to spinning, in the musical field.

She distinguished herself in particular in the composition of musique concrète, among others Tabou and Trois chambres d'inquiétudes, after having studied with Pierre Schaeffer and Éliane Radigue. The latter, great lady of drone and minimalism, fell under the spell of Cirque and wrote the booklet for the piece as a poem.

The piece, divided into five movements, is based on the handling and editing of recordings captured within one or more circuses (this is not specified and is of no importance) between 1988 and 1993. The initial allegro reveals the gallop of a horse joined gradually by other images. The idea of the circular space of the circus tent is immediatly and magnificently rendered and will be constantly recalled by an insistent use of the loop technique. Children's laughter, applause and drum rolls are thus sheared, repeated before being brutally interrupted. Accordion interludes and the distortion of sounds create a dreamlike atmosphere. This beautiful nightmare reminds us, to quote Éliane Radigue, the "Magic of childhood still living in the heart of man even beyond its abrupt end."

Words by Alexandre Galand, from the book “Field Recording – L’usage sonore du monde en 100 albums” (ed. Le mot et le reste, 2012)

Major member of the french musique concrète scene, Michèle Bokanowski was born on August 9, 1943 in Cannes, FR, to a musician mother and a writer father. She now lives and works in Paris.
Music lover since adolescence, it was relatively late, at the age of 22, that Michèle Bokanowski decided to study composition. Reading In Search of a Concrete Music by Pierre Schaeffer was decisive. After classical training on harmony, she met Michel Puig, a student of René Leibowitz, who taught her writing and analysis based on the Treatise of Schönberg. In September 1970 she began a two-year internship in the ORTF Research Department under the direction of Pierre Schaeffer. She takes part in the same time in a research group on sound synthesis, studies musical computing at the Faculty of Vincennes and electronic music with Éliane Radigue.
Her main works are intended for concert: Pour un pianiste, Trois chambres d’inquiétude, Tabou, Phone Variations, Cirque, L’étoile Absinthe, Chant d’Ombre, Enfance, Rhapsodia, Cadence, Elsewhere. She has also composed for theater (with Catherine Dasté), dance (with choreographers Hideyuki Yano, Marceline Lartigue, Bernardo Montet) and cinema: music for the short films of Patrick Bokanowski and his two feature films L'Ange ( 1982) and A Solar Dream (2016).

Søren Skov Orbit's debut album, "Adrift," is at once subtle and profound. The saxophonist and his collaborators have created something quite special and consistently deep. This record may not easily be classifiable, but the most interesting music creeps between the lines

Danish tenor and soprano saxophonist Søren Skov (Debre Damo Dining Orchestra) and keyboardist Peder Vind co-founded the trippy quintet Søren Skov Orbit in 2016 to explore “more jazzy ideas,” as the saxophonist puts it. Joined by a rhythm section steeped in contemporary improvisation and psychedelia, bassist Casper Nyvang Rask, drummer Rune Lohse and percussionist Ayi Solomon of the legendary 80's Ghanaian roots/highlife band Classique Vibes, the Orbit belts out a richly focused helping of broadly African-inspired modern jazz with a hazy sheen.

On the opening “Notifications of Nothingness,” Skov digs in his heels, a steely but languid unspooling of burnished tenor lines atop condensed, quavering piano and the thick footfalls of bass and percussion. As a tenor player, Skov has done his homework and has a kinship with Albert Ayler, Archie Shepp, J.R. Monterose, and the Dutchman Hans Dulfer, but he clearly has got his own robust phraseology and expressiveness. He also cites multi-reedists John Gilmore, Yusef Lateef, and Bilal Abdurahman as, “some of the players I’ve been listening to the most for the last 10-15 years.”

A healthy dose of reverb is present throughout the album, echoing Alton Abraham’s studio wizardry with the Sun Ra Arkestra or the trance-inducing and compressed fidelity of certain Ethio-jazz and Mystic Revelations of Rastafari sessions. Skov notes that, “everything is recorded live at the same time in the same room. I wanted to do it that way in order to catch the dynamics and authenticity of the music.” There is, in fact, a complex teeter- totter between crisp and hazy execution, achieved by a delicately balanced mix that keeps the group’s sound simultaneously advancing and receding. Vind’s phrasing is terse and introspective, a vibrating echo that nudges and reflects on Skov’s brusque tenor in a dance of sonic displacement.

“Orbiting” pits a chunky backbeat and the teetering, taut hand-rhythms of Solomon against an infectious, almost microtonal piano riff, while Skov’s arpeggios are clean and florid as he patiently rises up from under a carpet of funky loops. Following the freer “Reflections of Rif,” “Naration” lilts with a wink at “Footprints” and tugs between up-tempo polyrhythmic drive, clanging keyboard accents, and the innately steadfast keenness of the bandleader. The coupling of Solomon and Lohse is a big part of the group’s detailed energy; as the leader puts it, “Ayi knows everything about regional differences in drum patterns. He is always listening and super responsive, and his and Rune’s dynamics are amazing.” The music both presents a “vibe” and keeps the door open for engaging well under the surface as repeated listens will be extremely rewarding.

Steve Marion, the critically acclaimed-and completely wordless-songwriter and guitarist known as Delicate Steve, has unveiled a new album called Delicate Steve Sings. Is the album title a reference to the instantly recognizable "voice" of his guitar? Does he actually sing this time? Has he not been singing all along? That"s the crux of Sings-Marion is the rare guitarist where you can put on any of his records and know exactly who"s playing. In an indie rock landscape stuffed end-to-end with guitars and amplifiers, nobody else sounds like this. That unique voice has kept Steve busy in an unpredictable variety of settings. The sheer spread of his work outside his own records-collaborating with Miley Cyrus and Paul Simon, playing in Amen Dunes and the Black Keys, and being sampled by Kanye - doesn"t mean Steve"s a chameleon. It means he"s singular. Delicate Steve Sings is a record centered on channeling iconic voices with his guitar. In doing so, Marion is casting himself in the role of iconic singers like Willie who make standards their own. In the process, he reveals just how singular (dare we say iconic) that voice is. The guitar sings these songs-smoothly, sweetly, boldly, and on its own terms. Recorded with Jonathan Rado on bass, Kosta Galanopolous on drums, Renata Zeiguer providing strings, and co-writer Elliot Bergman, the album features both original songs with titles that suggest they might be new recordings of classics. "I"ll Be There" is smooth like a lost Bill Withers track; "Easy for You" isn"t the Elvis song of the same name, but there"s a hint of the king in there, in addition to Marion"s own takes onclassics such as the Emersons" "Baby," The Beatles" "Yesterday" and Otis Redding"s "These Arms of Mine." "You"re tapping into something universal and in the consciousness of pop music," Steve says-tacit permission for his guitar to drift into vocal expressions he"s internalized through years of close, repeated listening. Just like all the great singers.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a reissue of Chico Mello and Helinho Brandão’s self-titled release from 1984, the first return to vinyl of this classic of Brazilian experimental music with its original cover art and complete track listing. An under-recognised figure whose work inhabits a singular terrain where radical new music techniques and music theatre meet musica popular brasileira, Mello has lived and worked in Berlin since the late 1980s. A student of Dieter Schnebel, Mello played in the 90s iteration of Arnold Dreyblatt’s Orchestra of Excited Strings alongside compatriot Silvia Ocougne, with whom he produced a radical and hilarious deconstruction of MPB classics on Musica Brasileira De(s)composta (an early and rather atypical release on Edition Wandelweiser).

On this release, his only recording predating his move to Europe, Mello works with the alto saxophonist Helinho Brandão, who appears to be otherwise unknown outside Brazil. The record’s six tracks range from solo saxophone improvisation to densely layered ensemble works bridging minimalism, acoustic sound art and a plaintive melodic sensibility that calls up Edu Lobo or Milton Nascimento. Beginning with a dramatic, dissonant wind and string surge from which emerge ominously pounding piano chords, opener ‘Água’ slowly builds in intensity, a halo of clustered vocal harmonies gradually closing in on Brandão’s squealing sax until the piece opens up to reveal a gorgeous passage of melodic singing. The piano accompaniment reduces to tolling bass notes as the voice begins a repeated incantation, suggesting a ritualistic atmosphere reminiscent of parts of Xenakis’ setting of Oresteia. Dissonant, sawing tremolos on the strings climb to a crescendo before disappearing into the sounds of water being poured and splashed into metal vessels, presented not as a field recording but as a percussive element performed by the ensemble. A child’s voice then appears, singing to piano accompaniment the same melody heard earlier in the piece. After a brief solo alto improvisation from Brandão, working with the guttural pops and fleeting melodic gestures of Braxton or Roscoe Mitchell, the remainder of the first side is dedicated to the leisurely unfolding of ‘Baiando’ over the course of twelve minutes. A trio for Brandão on soprano saxophone, Mello on a very period-appropriate phased nylon string guitar and Edu Dequech on bongos, the performance eases its way hypnotically through subtle variations on a set of rhythmic and melodic patterns, almost derailed at points by Brandão’s wild forays into extended technique but held together by Mello’s droning guitar notes.

The second side opens with another multi-part epic for a larger ensemble, ‘Matraca’, which makes use of strings, electric guitars and a wide range of South American percussion instruments. Rasping violin harmonics hover as drum hits, repeated guitar notes and triangle accompany a slowly descending bass glissando. A sudden change in direction introduces a thrumming, incessantly repeated bowed bass tone, beginning a series of episodes of minimalist phasing and pattern variation, the combinations of electric guitars and orchestral instruments giving the ensemble an ad hoc charm like the early Penguin Café Orchestra but with more percussive drive. Eventually the piece is overrun by a cacophony of the titular matracas (a kind of ratchet/cog rattle). Following a lyrical trio improvisation by Mello, Brandão and Gerson Kornin on bass, the final ‘Danca’ focuses entirely on Mello’s layered acoustic guitars and vocals, using this restricted palette to build up a haunting piece of almost orchestral density, reminiscent of the 70s work of Egberto Gismonti in how it thickens a folkish ambience with harmonic sophistication.

Arriving in a starkly beautiful gatefold sleeve and sounding better than ever in its new remaster, one might call the stunning music contained on Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão ahead of its time. But what (other than some of Mello’s own work) produced in the years since its initial release has really touched the organic fusion of minimalism, free improvisation, radical instrumental technique and popular song achieved here? Forty years after its first release, Chico Mello/Helinho Brandão remains music of the future.

Lebanon oud master Rabih Abou-Khalil's stunning 1996 album 'Arabian
Waltz' is appearing here on vinyl for the first time."Arabian Waltz is the
pinnacle of Rabih Abou-Khalil's achievement as a composer and arranger
It is a sublime fusion of jazz, Middle Eastern traditional music, and Western
classical. In addition to Abou-Khalil on oud (the Arabic lute), Michel Godard on the
tuba and the serpent (the tuba's antique kinsman), and Nabil Khaiat on frame
drums, the album also features the Balanescu String Quartet instead of the usual
trumpet or sax. The presence of the Balanescu might seem to pose a dilemma
for the composer: traditional Middle Eastern music uses no harmony but a string
quartet is all about harmony. Abou- Khalil achieves a compromise by generally
writing the string parts in unison (or in octaves), in effect using the quartet as a
single voice, but also letting the quartet split up to play parts in unison with the
other instruments or to provide ornamentation. Without surrendering jazziness at
all, the presence of the strings makes possible a wondrous atmosphere, almost
as if one is listening to the soundtrack of a classy movie set in Beirut or
Damascus during the '40s. This feeling is greatest on "Dreams of a Dying City"
with its brooding tuba and cello motifs and grave, repeated rhythms. "The Pain
After" starts with an impressive tuba solo that turns into a long interlude for tuba
and string quartet; sad, slow music that sounds like one of Beethoven 's late
quartets. Then Abou- Khalil finally enters on oud, bringing a sustained note of
wistfulness. Fortunately, beside the darker numbers lie the propulsive drama of
"Arabian Waltz" and the bobbing and weaving quirkiness of "Ornette Never
Sleeps." Abou- Khalil is known for experimenting with the possibilities his guest
musicians bring to his style. In this case, the guests have inspired the host to
reach a new height and maybe even a new style. This recording suits every fan of
world music, jazz, classical, or just good music." - Kurt Keefner

S
Brand new vinyl reissue to celebrate the 40th anniversary of seminal
album Yelele by Georges Decimus and Jacob Desvarieux, from zouk
pioneers Kassav', includes the massive worldwide crossover hit "Zouk-la
se sel medikaman nou ni"
Whether in concert, or on the radio or TV, the image of Kassav' remains vivid in
the minds of listeners and spectators. The group, founded in 1979 by Jacob
Desvarieux, Georges and Pierre-Edouard Decimus, has become legendary, putting
Guadeloupe and Martinique on the musical map of the world. Touring the world
with zouk, a musical movement introduced and popularized by Kassav', their
albums have repeatedly been rewarded with both gold and platinum discs.
A victim of Covid in 2021, the loss of Jacob Desvarieux leaves a huge void.
The mix of Jacob Desvarieux and George Decimus with Jocelyne Beroard, JeanPhilippe Marthely, Patrick Saint-Eloi and Jean-Claude Naimro has played sold out
concerts in 82 countries. With texts recounting real life in the Caribbean world
their lively music draws on the rhythms of Guadeloupe's gwo-ka and Martinique's
ti-bwa. Transcending the well-defined codes of Caribbean music, they have turned
the 1980s and all the succeeding decades into a fabulous ballroom.
They have been welcomed in Japan and the USSR, where they became the first
group of black musicians to tour. Forty years after the group's creation, their
timeless hits continue to resonate

Specially prepared liner notes by renowned music writer Brian Morton.

After an impasse in which she mostly recorded with tightly arranged groups (for Commodore) and big bands with strings (for Decca), Billie Holiday signed her last long-term contract with Norman Granz who tried to repeat the small group magic of her early days.

Solitudewas among Billie's first studio sessions for Granz and features the singer backed by Charlie Shavers, Flip Phillips, the Oscar Peterson Trio, and Alvin Stoller or J. C. Heard.

To experience Justin R. Cruz Gallego's pulverizing Sub Pop debut is to get burned down to ashes and burst forth, born anew. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), the Tacoma-based artist's second album, is driven by opposing forces: noisy abstractions and tightly structured beats, anguish and dissolution at the outside world and empowerment within, apathy and catharsis. Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra) weds scouring electronics to hooky songs and Gallego's powerful drumming in a way that feels visceral and new. It's his most personal statement to date, at once playful and intent, driven and combustible, total fucking chaos mixed into glints of broken-glass beauty. Born in Tucson, Arizona, Gallego experienced culture shock as a child after relocating to the frigid climes of the Pacific Northwest. He found solace in the Seattle punk scene centered around Iron Lung Records and has since remained a fixture in the underground community. "I see this record as first and foremost a musical statement," Gallego says. "I grew up in punk and DIY subcultures, but before that I had Latin music playing in the background through my childhood and every phase of adolescence. It was surprisingly natural to incorporate. I realized I wanted to go deeper into these rhythms. I wanted to make a record that felt as experimental as much as it felt from the perspective of a Latino. When I got a glimmer of that possibility, it felt exciting." Lead single "Dogear" is a face-melting party starter that sounds like someone forced Talking Heads and Rudimentary Peni to share a practice space. "I wanted a song that felt playful in the way it attempted to be dissonant without taking itself too seriously," Gallego says. "Cholla Beat" is even more ambitious, an anthemic mix of WAR and Wire led by unruly synthesizers spiraling down a labyrinth of production. Gallego's influences for the album are vast, ranging from British documentary filmmaker Adam Curtis to electric Miles Davis to audio miscreants like Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never. But it's Gallego's assured sonic vision that resounds the loudest. And, while J.R.C.G. is a solo project, conceived and executed primarily in Gallego's home studio, he found strength in opening the project to others, starting with Seth Manchester as co-producer. Manchester's penchant for bone-rattling frequencies, as seen in his production work with The Body, Battles, and Mdou Moctar, made him a natural fit for Gallego. Together, they retained the intimacy of Gallego's home recordings while taking advantage of the hi-fi stylings of his Machines With Magnets Studio in Rhode Island. The closing song, "World i," offers a glimpse into the live experience of Grim Iconic...(Sadistic Mantra), with upwards of seven band members blasting off. The album features a fascinating mix of supporting players, many of whom cycle through J.R.C.G.'s live lineup: Morgan Henderson (The Blood Brothers, Fleet Foxes), Jason Clackley (Dreamdecay, The Exquisites), Jon Scheid (Dreamdecay, U Sco), Erica Miller (Casual Hex, Big Bite), Veronica Dye (Terminator) Phil Cleary (U Sco), and Alex Gaziano (Dreamdecay, Kidcrash, Science Amplification). Taken as a whole, G.I.S.M. is a whirlwind of sound, pummeling, and cleansing. It's a sweaty, thrilling aural adventure and, like a great basement show, it'll leave you breathless, exhausted, and wanting to repeat it all over again. As any good mantra should.

It’s hard to overstate the importance of Fanny’s 1970 self-titled debut album. For the first time, a group of women (sisters June and Jean Millington, Alice De Buhr and Nickey Barclay) wrote and sang their own songs, played their own instruments and, perhaps most importantly, rocked just as hard as any male band out there. And, as the first all-female band signed to a major label (Reprise) and with superstar producer Richard Perry at the board, these four women became perhaps L.A.’s biggest “buzz band,” landing repeated bookings at the Whisky-a-Go-Go with a who’s who of rock’s glitterati in attendance. Fanny became the reference point for generations of female rockers to come after them, from Joan Jett to Girlschool to Courtney Love and beyond. They were truly the Godmothers of Chick Rock. The self-titled debut by Fanny is available as a limited edition of 750 individually numbered copies on silver coloured vinyl, housed in a gatefold sleeve.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

The album opens with a 13 minute improvisation titled “The Time Is Now For Change”. As Ranelin , Belgrave, and Harrison exchange flurries of notes and squeaks over improvised chaos from the rhythm section, the group builds to a spiritual high that calls to mind the best Albert Ayler recordings. Bebop lines and unison phrases occasionally rise to the surface, offering a glimmer of familiarity in what is largely a harsh soundscape. Yet what sets Ranelin (and indeed, all of his Tribe contemporaries) apart from the larger free and spiritual jazz scene at the time is their sense of rhythm. Even as Harrison evokes sounds that would make a Meditations era Coltrane blush, the drums stay in time, and the looping bass and piano riffs take on an almost hypnotic quality, repeating quietly under a whirlwind of sound.

Later tracks see the ensemble veer into soul jazz, and jazz-funk, with “Black Destiny” perfectly highlighting the group’s ability to meld the avant-garde with grooves that you won’t be able to stop yourself from tapping your foot to. Members of the Tribe were well known for their appreciation of African American popular music, and the influence of groups such as Sly And The Family Stone is clear in the song’s edgy rhythms and dense sound.

This double LP reissue also contains alternate versions and outtakes that are so good you’ll be wondering why they were originally left out! With modern remastering, three bonus tracks, and an obi-strip, you don’t want to miss the definitive version of Phil Ranelin’s The Time Is Now! "

Four years after his last album "TRICKSTER," DJ KRUSH has faced, sharpened, and overcome himself during a new coronavirus pandemic with "Rebirth -Saisei-,"

his first album since becoming independent. In Japanese, "Rebirth" means "Play" to regenerate music and art, "Rebirth" to be reborn, "Reconstruction" to be reborn,

"Renaissance" which is also translated as "literary revival".... With its multifarious connotations, the year 2024 will see DJ KRUSH take the opportunity of his

independence to "Play" and repeatedly "Rebirth" his way into the future. Guest artists include Jinmenusagi, Chinza DOPENESS, and D.O.

"Sun Racket" is the brand new album from legendary Boston trio Throwing Muses, consisting of Kristin Hersh, David Narcizo and Bernard Georges. The follow up to 2013's 'Purgatory/Paradise' is an outpouring of modal guitars, reverbed shapes, echoey drums and driving bass set behind Kristen Hersh's well-thumbed notebook of storylines. A ten-song opus of suitably wrought tales set against a wall of sound that's at once calm and ethereal before building into glorious cacophonous crescendos.

When Throwing Muses wrote their last album, they were shattered. Pieces were coming and going, elements repeating and charging the whole. "It sounded beautiful jumping around like that". Two-minute songs reappearing as twisted instrumentals or another song's bridge.

They mimicked the effect live which kept them on their toes. Whatever was happening was already over in other words. 'Sun Racket' is the opposite. It refused to do anything but sit still. It says, "sit here and deal". "All it asked of us was to comingle two completely disparate sonic vocabularies: one heavy noise, the other delicate music box.

Turns out we didn't have to do much. Sun Racket knew what it was doing and pushed us aside, which is always best. After thirty years of playing together, we trust each other implicitly but we trust the music more" - Kristin Hersh And so, they continue. Business unusual.

"A ground-breaking band who changed the face of alternative music rather than follow the rule book." MXDWN "Pioneers of the 80'/early 90's college rock sound" Pitchfork "One of America's finest guitar bands" - The Quietus.

Permanent Repeat is the highly anticipated second LP by Long Island indie/emo favorites Macseal. The album follows 2019's Super Enthusiast and is their first release on Counter Intuitive Records. Our first record in nearly five years, Permanent Repeat was an outlet to emotionally and musically reflect on our lives at our own pace that allowed us to fine tune until we were fully satisfied. Sonically, we honed in on sounds that reminded us of the early 2000s pop rock with more modern twists and turns. This record is meant to condense big themes such as longing, existential dread, and falling in love into moments that can be played on permanent repeat.

"Everyone you love will end up dead," Isaiah Neal sings on "Ivy Tech," the second track from Leisure Hour's upcoming The Sunny Side. It's a matter-of-fact lyrics delivered in a matter-of-fact way - but a second later, Grace Dudas and Raegan Gordon join in to harmonize on a booming "whoa-oh-oh-oh" chorus. In the span of about three seconds, Leisure Hour's whole ethos becomes clear. The Sunny Side is the result of years of writing and recording, the culmination of a half-decade of lineup changes; by now, Leisure Hour's reached their final form: bassist/vocalist Dudas, guitarist/vocalist Neal, and drummer/vocalist Gordon. The Sunny Side, according to the band, is about "love, loss, and struggle with mental health as a middle class individual," and maybe it was a case of life mimicking art. The three of them struggled to come up with enough money to record and produce these songs the way they envisioned; they picked up extra shifts at their jobs and, in true DIY fashion, decided to throw as many music festivals as they could to drum up enough cash to bring these songs to life, and "the community around us rallied together to make this album happen, and for that we are eternally grateful." That gratitude is the driving force behind The Sunny Side. The eleven songs that comprise the record are built on shaky hopes and the anticipation of disappointment, but along with that comes a teeth-gritting resilience and a hard-won appreciation for those small victories. "I can't forgive you," Dudas sings at the end of "Forgiveness," but she follows it quickly with "But I'm trying to," and then she repeats it over and over. Maybe she's just trying to convince herself, but it's the effort that matters. Leisure Hour won't stop looking on the sunny side anytime soon, and they're trying their damnedest to convince you to do the same.