Search:rhythms of the pacific

"The core of confusion and upheaval that drove some of the band's most fiery earlier work, however, is replaced by a more stabilized undercurrent, a mentality that's reflected in songs not afraid to try new things and honestly explore uncomfortable feelings. When combined with exciting production and songwriting choices, that mindset helps make Feels So Good // Feels So Bad one of the Shivas' best albums.” - AllMusic "Portland, Oregon-hailing psych-surf band The Shivas accomplish another time-traveling, reverb-ridden sound that refuses to get boring. Jared Molyneux’s guitar work knows when to be bright or bashful at the right times, breaking into guitar solos that possess a late-’60s groove… The Shivas seem to blissfully flourish” - Paste "a consistent treat for the ears” - The Vinyl District "Though the psych-tinged guitar riff that drives 'Feels So Bad' was written while The Shivas were still on the road, its lyrics didn’t fall into place until the band was well into lockdown, unsure of when they’d be able to return to their most imperative true love: Live shows... Accordingly, 'Feels So Bad' permeates with a sense of urgent desperation, building off a chugging prog-rock instrumental.” - Consequence (on “Feels So Bad”) "They hooked the audience with their throwback rock sounds. The guitar strums and rhythmic drum beats were layered atop smooth and hallucinogenic vocals. The eyes can tell the take at times and there was a sparkle there that said that the band members just love doing live performances." - California Rocker "This single layers on the fuzz but keeps it dreamy, with an especially sticky guitar riff sure to lodge itself in your brain with minimal effort." - Portland Monthly (on “If I Could Choose”) “'My Baby Don’t' translates the genuine vibrant joy


of the live experience into the studio, bringing the band’s ‘60s garage rock roots, sharp pop vocal harmonies, and fervent performances along for the ride." - Under The Radar "Perfectly straddling the line between a solid-head bopping track and an introspective deep cut, The Shivas’ 'Undone' is a rock & roll gem. The track sounds straight out of the late 60s and fits seamlessly in the Portland band’s electrifying catalog." - The Luna Collective "The first time I clicked play on this track, I knew it was a yes for me." - Ear To The Ground Music (on “If I Could Choose”) "The harmonies would make the “Happy Together” Turtles blush, but the unsettling guitar doesn’t shy away from the woollier implications of the ’60s." - Willamette Week (on “If I Could Choose”) "'Undone' is just the perfect song for the good days and the bad ones." - GlamGlare "another hit" - Austin Town Hall (on “Undone”) "one of the best forthcoming albums of the year" - Austin Town Hall RADIO: #3 Most Added @ NACC - 50 official adds BIO Every working musician has had their life turned upside down by Covid-19. For The Shivas, who had recently released a new LP and normally keep a rigorous touring schedule, it was a particularly screeching halt. “We were about to go to SXSW, the following weekend was Treefort in Boise, and then we were going to open for our friends’ band on tour in the US before going to Europe,” Jared Molyneux remembers. Then everything just stopped. They were faced with a dilemma. “It forced us to adapt or just quit,” Molyneux says. “The reality is that shows are our job.” In truth, live shows aren’t just The Shivas job: they are the band’s greatest love. Shivas shows are bombastic, explosive and thoroughly communal live rock and roll experiences where barriers between the performers and their audience seem to dissolve into the sweat and sound. The stage—or the basement, or the living room—that’s The Shivas’ true element. It’s their raison d’etre. It’s their religion. The band’s live urgency may have been born in 2006, when the band’s young members—who began booking West Coast tours while still in high school—waited without fanfare on sidewalks or in parking lots, before being rushed onstage for their sets at 21-and-up clubs. Maybe it developed a little later, as The Shivas blasted their way through Portland’s storied and unsanctioned mid-aughts house show scene. Whatever the origin of their famously kinetic live experience, it’s the show that keeps them coming back after over 1,000 performances spread over 25 countries in 15 years. In those 15 years, The Shivas have grown tight-knit as a group. Guitarist/singer Jared Molyneux, bassist Eric Shanafelt and drummer/singer Kristin Leonard have all been with the band since its earliest days; guitarist Jeff City, another high school friend, joined in 2017. Together they’ve learned to thread a seemingly impossible needle: They’ve honed and tightened their performances without sacrificing the element of surprise that makes each show special. And despite touring and recording for most of their lives, they speak about their project with humility, in the DIY vernacular of their Pacific Northwest upbringing. They talk up their own favorite bands, play all-ages shows as much as possible, and bring a sort of blue-collar humanism to the live performances they relish so much. “We just want to make people feel good,” Molyneux says. “We want them to forget they have to work tomorrow.” Kristin Leonard elaborates, “The live show is all about that feeling of catharsis—in ourselves and in everyone who comes out. We’re creating this safe space where we can all let go. Where we can exhale. And it feels really good when we are able to facilitate that.” So when Covid hit, the band knew it was time for transformation. After a settling realization that live music would be grounded for the foreseeable future, The Shivas booked significant studio time with Cameron Spies, who also produced the 2019 Dark Thoughts LP. They also transformed their lives: three of the band’s four members found work with a local nonprofit serving unhoused Portland residents. They became engaged in protests and fundraisers for social justice. They spent a whole summer actually living in Portland, settling into the city they had always called home, but that sometimes felt like a temporary stop between tours. “We got into a more community-minded headspace,” Leonard says. “And that did give us some purpose. It felt cool to see everybody come together to stick up for what they believe in. It feels like an incredibly formative last twelve months.” The album that emerged from this new moment finds The Shivas reborn as a band that seems seasoned and perfectly at home with itself. There is a calm, even a hopefulness, to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad that sounds new. The Shivas didn’t write or record the album with a particular theme in mind, but one seems to have emerged: where Dark Thoughts was about confronting your demons with fearless self-examination, much of Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is about what happens once you find that peace: how being honest with yourself changes your relationships and your priorities. “I do think it’s about acceptance,” Leonard says. “There’s a weird relaxation that comes with being at peace with things you can’t control or have regrets about.” Maybe that’s why the squealing, riff-laden break-up song opener, “Feels So Bad,” is such a shock to the system. But it’s more of an exorcism than a melodrama: more a song about not being able to do the thing you love (in


this case, playing live shows) than splitting with a partner. “It’s like part of you goes to sleep,” Leonard says. As bandmates who are also in a long-term relationship, Molyneux and Leonard know that their songs might be seen as glimpses into their personal lives, but their songwriting is rarely autobiography. Leonard compares their process to something more akin to screenwriting. “There’s bound to be some autobiographical material in there,” she says. “But the common denominator is the exploration of universal feelings: ones that everyone experiences or can relate to.” The goal is to use the music to drill down into something genuine and sincere, beyond genre or stylistic affectation. That’s where The Shivas have arrived. Whatever growth led the band to Feels So Good // Feels So Bad, plenty of their fascinations remain. They’re still turning love songs into psychedelic, transcendent epics. “Tell Me That You Love Me” subverts doo-wop extravagance and dabbles in Flamenco rhythms. “Rock Me Baby” is a bubblegum anthem soaked in so much reverb that we might just be hearing it from the stadium nosebleeds. “Sometimes” is almost impossibly huge, like a witchy outtake from the Brill Building era. Those songs feel like logical expansions from a band that has always excelled at a timeless sort of rock and roll that tinkers with and explodes elements from every era. But on the towering and mournful “You Wanna Be My Man,” a slow-burning six-minute shoegaze prayer for a higher sort of love, there is a level of emotional nuance that feels like something altogether revolutionary. It’s there again in the stripped-down vulnerability of the album-closing elegy “Please Don’t Go.” Yes, Feels So Good // Feels So Bad is an album about acceptance. Sometimes that acceptance feels enlightened and sometimes it feels like the end result of a lot of kicking and screaming. The Shivas have adapted in both of those ways. With new tours scheduled and a new album on the way, they’re still hoping--like all of us--for a new era of vibrant, cathartic live music. The lessons they learned from having their normal upended, though, have only helped them grow

LTD. COLORED VINYL

Somewhere Between: Mutant Pop, Electronic Minimalism & Shadow Sounds of Japan 1980–1988 hovers vibe–wise between two distinct poles within Light In The Attic’s acclaimed Japan Archival Series—Kankyō Ongaku: Japanese Ambient, Environmental & New Age Music 1980–1990 and Pacific Breeze: Japanese City Pop, AOR & Boogie 1976–1986. All three albums showcase recordings produced during Japan’s soaring bubble economy of the 1980s, an era in which aesthetic visions and consumerism merged. Music echoed the nation’s prosperity and with financial abundance came the luxury to dream.

Sonically, Somewhere Between mines the midpoint between Kankyō Ongaku’s sparkling atmospherics and Pacific Breeze’s metropolitan boogie. The compilation encompasses ambient pop, underground electronics, liminal minimalism and shadow sounds—all descriptors emphasizing the hazy nature of the nebula. Out–of–focus rhythms wear ethereal accoutrements, ballads are shrouded in static, and angular drums snake skyward on transcendent tones. From the Avant–minimalism of Mkwaju Ensemble and Yoshio Ojima, to the leftfield techno-pop of Mishio Ogawa and Noriko Miyamoto (featuring members of YMO), and highlights from the groundbreaking Osaka underground label Vanity Records, these are blurry constellations defying collective categorization.

These tracks also exist in a space of transition when the major label grip on the Japanese recording market began to give way to the escalation of independents. Thanks to the idyllic economic climate and innovations in domestically–manufactured music gear, creators on the edges were empowered to focus on satisfying their artistic visions in the open headspace of home studios. While labels like Warner Music and Nippon Columbia explored new sounds through traditional channels, it was possible for Vanity, Balcony and other indie labels, not to mention self–released artists like Ojima and Naoki Asai, to publish their work via affordable media such as cassettes, 7" vinyl, and flexi–discs.

Expertly curated by Yosuke Kitazawa and Mark “Frosty” McNeill (dublab), Somewhere Between is a collection of music, much of it released for the first time outside Japan, that is bound more by energetic vibration than shared history, genre or scene. They are the sounds of transition and searching—a celebration of the freedom found in floating.

Note: The track “Days Man” by Yoshio Ojima is only available on the LP and Cassette versions.

Having already made a big splash on labels like Rush Hour, Ghostly, Spectral Sound and Werkdiscs, the London based producer Moirétees up his third full length player for Hypercolour. ‘Good Times’ goes someway to pulling back a positive energy to recent global events and finds Moirécollaborating with fellow artist Demigosh on a good chunk of the album cuts. Hazy agit house and drowsy beats anchor an album filled with smooth ambience and soulful sampling.

Low frequencies and foggy tones make tracks like ‘Magdan’ and ‘Vertigo’ strike a chord between lo-fi electronica and abstract ambient noise, whilst the collaborations with Demigosh add an ethereal soulful touch that’s both stirring and emotive in equal measures. Exotic beat science is deployed on cuts like ‘R1’ and ‘Telefunk’, whilst the jazzy licks and lumpy rhythms of ‘Lost In Pacific’ seal off an extraordinary album that exemplifies the advancing maturity of Moiré’s sound and vision.

"‘PACIFIC’ (EP) is Roo Panes’ latest release, following his critically acclaimed albums ‘Little Giant’ (2014), ‘Paperweights’ (2016) and ‘Quiet Man’ (2018).
While the track ‘Pacific’ offers that folk-tinged, guitar led and string embellished sound that Roo Panes fans know and love, ‘Colour In Your Heart’ offers an atmospheric production, minimal electronic beats and lack of guitar, suggesting a potential new musical direction for this new decade.
Elsewhere ‘Listen To The One Who Loves You’ gently swells from a delicate introduction into to an ear-filling delight filled with subtle horns, sweeping strings and gentle drum rhythms, and ‘The Sun Will Rise Over The Year’ builds from quiet beginnings to an explosive crescendo where galloping drums drive the track onwards and upwards. "

Somewhere Between: Mutant Pop, Electronic Minimalism & Shadow Sounds of Japan 1980–1988 hovers vibe–wise between two distinct poles within Light In The Attic’s acclaimed Japan Archival Series—Kankyō Ongaku: Japanese Ambient, Environmental & New Age Music 1980–1990 and Pacific Breeze: Japanese City Pop, AOR & Boogie 1976–1986. All three albums showcase recordings produced during Japan’s soaring bubble economy of the 1980s, an era in which aesthetic visions and consumerism merged. Music echoed the nation’s prosperity and with financial abundance came the luxury to dream.

Sonically, Somewhere Between mines the midpoint between Kankyō Ongaku’s sparkling atmospherics and Pacific Breeze’s metropolitan boogie. The compilation encompasses ambient pop, underground electronics, liminal minimalism and shadow sounds—all descriptors emphasizing the hazy nature of the nebula. Out–of–focus rhythms wear ethereal accoutrements, ballads are shrouded in static, and angular drums snake skyward on transcendent tones. From the Avant–minimalism of Mkwaju Ensemble and Yoshio Ojima, to the leftfield techno-pop of Mishio Ogawa and Noriko Miyamoto (featuring members of YMO), and highlights from the groundbreaking Osaka underground label Vanity Records, these are blurry constellations defying collective categorization.

These tracks also exist in a space of transition when the major label grip on the Japanese recording market began to give way to the escalation of independents. Thanks to the idyllic economic climate and innovations in domestically–manufactured music gear, creators on the edges were empowered to focus on satisfying their artistic visions in the open headspace of home studios. While labels like Warner Music and Nippon Columbia explored new sounds through traditional channels, it was possible for Vanity, Balcony and other indie labels, not to mention self–released artists like Ojima and Naoki Asai, to publish their work via affordable media such as cassettes, 7" vinyl, and flexi–discs.

Expertly curated by Yosuke Kitazawa and Mark “Frosty” McNeill (dublab), Somewhere Between is a collection of music, much of it released for the first time outside Japan, that is bound more by energetic vibration than shared history, genre or scene. They are the sounds of transition and searching—a celebration of the freedom found in floating.

Note: The track “Days Man” by Yoshio Ojima is only available on the LP and Cassette versions.

Having established himself as a core Apollo artist with three fantastic EPs since 2016, Sieren now steps up with a first full length for the label. 'Timelapse' is a majestic 13 track trip into this unique artist's very emotional fusion of post-bass bliss. Sieren aka Matthias Frick is a master of intricate electronics and bittersweet emotions, of deep atmospherics and compelling rhythms. He has been building a dedicated following for some years now, putting out his debut album on Christian Loffler's Ki Records in 2016. Inspired by a rich history of bass-driven UK sounds, he pairs that with a love of field recording and experimental soundscaping, and now shows he is an ever evolving master of his art on this stunning new record.

Welcome to the curious world of Peter Graf York: a world full of city centre safaris and epic train journeys, Soviet cosmonauts and Oakland rappers, filtered synths and plucked mbiras. It's a wild ride inspired as much by Jamaican dub sorcery as by playful minimalism outta the Pacific Northwest.

Many of these tracks were composed on the hoof - literally en route across sections of the ever-reliable Deutsche Bahn network. As such, there’s a certain travellin-without-moving dynamic across this collection, capturing that cinematic feel of window frames flickering past graffiti'd signal exchanges, morphing into rolling hills and green forests. Expedition Bahn is the sound of ideas being set in motion, each track heralding the arrival of an uncanny destination. Blazed beats give way to acid-fuelled electro, and dub rhythms step aside for 4th world meditations as readily as sleepers on a train track.

We can leave the last word to heroic USSR cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov, who spent the final moments of his fateful re-entry giving the administration an earful of righteous proportions (regarding the technical failures of the spacecraft). Taking his place as the first martyr of space travel, Komarov accepted the Soyuz mission despite safety concerns, in order to protect the other cosmonauts. It's an attitude that echoes throughout PGY’s sonic universe - make the most of the trip you're on... ‘cause you never know just which way it will go.

Gear used: Tascam MIDISTUDIO 644, MPC1000, Roland JX-3P, MODE MACHINES DT200, Electro-Harmonix MEMORY BOY analog delay, Nord Drum 3P, MacBook Pro, Logic Pro 9

Back in 2018, Lumière Noire celebrated its first anniversary with a compilation featuring thirteen exclusive tracks by an eclectic group of electronic musicians – a family portrait of sorts. A few months later, a second volume of From Above, compiled by the label's artistic director (and DJ) Chloé, once more brings thirteen established acts together with promising upstarts. The first compilation was the embodiment of the label policy advocating for both artistic excellence and a widening of electronic aesthetics – bopping from deviant house music to adventurous IDM and to the rigor of dancefloor techno, among other electronic explorations. Some of the artists featured are now closely associated with Lumière Noire, while others were more established performers such as Benedikt Frey, Lauer, Jonathan Fitoussi, Il Est Vilaine, Dave e Brun (half of Swayzak) and Frank Agrario, as well as upcoming artists such as C O N T R A (a side project by none other than Iñigo Vontier), Sutja Gutierrez, Théo Muller, Markus Gibb, Bajram Bili, and a sprinkling of UFOs circling the genre (Suuns' Ben Shemie, Drvg Cvltvre, and electro-acoustic combo Lumi). This group photo laid down a number of paths for a label in perpetual evolution.

Since then, the Parisian entity has continued to grow within the international electronic scene, releasing Local Suicide's Leopard Gum EP, Iñigo Vontier's first LP, and planning another slew of releases for 2020. The lineup for this second volume of From Above is once again equally intriguing, offering a crescendo-like track listing over a double LP format, which is a feat of sorts for a "Various Artists" compilation.

Marc Mélias' fascinating, unsettling Permanent Waves gets the proceedings going with a contemplative track that provides a serene opening to the odyssey on which From Above will be taking the listener. Pletnev continues on with the playful, hooky Marco O’Polo, a fundamentally techno track built over a seductive 90s-inspired breakbeat. Douglas Greed (whom Chloé remixed on BPitch a few years back, and had himself remixed track from her album Endless Revisions featuring Ben Shemie’s vocals), supplies Vancouver, a slice of ambiance à la Boards of Canada, supported by a gripping breakbeat. The rhythmic arpeggio of Israeli producer's Middle Sky Bloom makes his contribution a hypnotic, disconcerting slice of dark disco. Thomass Jackson, a safe bet in the new wave of the Latin-American electronic music blowing its sometimes hot, sometimes cold wind, proposes Mithra, a dancefloor incantation to the Antiquity's bull god. With Bells, Goldmoon delivers a track that is both melodic and nostalgic, tinged with rhythmic samples, Moog basses and solar backgrounds. Longtime friend of Chloé, Krikor, who has released two albums on L.I.E.S. Records (Pacific Alley and Saudi), offers a moment of respite with Sally Hardesty (a nod to fans of horror movies), a heavenly and bewitching track that, paradoxically, hints at the highly energetic second half of the compilation. Discovered with Confidences EP released on Lumière Noire, the young French producer Morgan Blanc asserts himself here with Werde Der Du Bist ("Become who you are"), a song with luminous chords and midtempo rhythms to start the second half of the compilation by raising the tension. Galician producer, DJ and designer Cora Novoa continues the rollercoaster's ascent with her Virtual Aesthetics, which once again brings those acid tones – this time without the vertigo. Equally corrosive, but tenser and more percussive, the uncategorizable NSDOS' AL-G attempts to give order to a chaotic electronic world full of violence and danger. Rebeka Warrior (half of the duo Kompromat alongside compatriot Vitalic), takes on a more nostalgic vibe with Ich Komme Zurück, a French/German techno chant evoking a secret dream of a track from a bygone era. Three years after the release by Lumière Noire of Moderna and Theus Mago's stroboscopic Dog Is Calling You, Theus Mago makes a solo comeback with Idealistic Stone, a most acid of club tracks, rattled by the modulations of the inevitable TB 303. French electro-rock saltwarth Yan Wagner's dancefloor alter ego The Populists' Prehistoric Lemurs gives an almost Orientalizing twist to Kraftwerk's techno-pop. To close things off, the collection's last track, the appropriately-named Instant Track by impromptu encounter between Hervé Carvalho (Acid Arab), Jacques Bon (Smallville) and Demian (Kompakt) Acid Love Triangle, releases the pressure with a long, bittersweet reverie that leaves the listener, at the end of these thirteen musical adventures, to rest languorously on an artificial and welcoming shore.

Sleep-deprived, breakbeat-driven vignettes of unclear authorship, from somewhere west of Lake Lagoda, near the Russia-Finland border.Sekundenschlaf has significant points of correspondence with contemporary European electronic music, as well as the golden age of (early) jungle and ambient techno. But its response to tradition, and to the zeitgeist, is idiosyncratic to say the least - with an atmosphere and psychogeography rooted in the tranquility and majesty of Western Russian nature, and the anxiety and distress of the country's post-Soviet working class. Pastoral calm meets dissonance and unease. The music has a loose, improvised feel, but its arrangements are intricate, its melodies iridescent: cascading arpeggios that stir a sense of optimism and renewal, sighing string-pads that evoke the deepest melancholy. Rhythms simultaneously hyped-up and burned-out, collapsing in on themselves as they race to destinations unknown. All bound together with field recordings of eavesdropped conversations, blurred into abstraction, a droning subliminal menace.Trust me, you'll be fine

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce Reverse Tree, the new LP from the acclaimed duo of Eyvind Kang and Jessika Kenney, two musicians who have established themselves as powerful voices working at a unique intersection of contemporary composition, improvisation, and Asian traditional music forms. Either individually or as a pair, they have worked in contexts ranging from performances of traditional Persian and Javanese music to collaborations with Sunn O))), but their work together as a duo (documented on The face of the earth and Aestuarium, both released on Ideological Organ/Editions Mego) most clearly represents the central concerns of their diverse practices: a music of the inner life of sound, demanding ritualistic focus and promising heightened sensations.
On Reverse Tree, the duo expand their work together into the realm of the chamber ensemble, presenting two side-long works that feature Kenney's voice and Kang's viola alongside a multitude of other instrumentalists. Kang's Thoughts on Being Exiled to the Frontier, for Lord Wei, inspired by a text by the Tang dynasty poet Hsueh T'ao, features an all-star international ensemble: Kang, Kenney, maverick Israeli conductor Ilan Volkov on violin, Icelandic cellist Hildur Guðnadóttir, and guitarists Oren Ambarchi and Stephen O'Malley. The piece is primarily composed of irregular patterns of pizzicato notes and guitar harmonics, gently falling in and out of sync and providing a subtly unstable support for Kenney's voice, which sings long, wavering tones, at times reminiscent of Michiko Hirayama's classic performances of Scelsi. Drawing on 20th century instrumental techniques, alternate tuning systems, non-western music and the experience of nature (the irregular rhythms of the piece calling to mind nothing so much as drops of rain), the piece opens a space both serene and subtly uneasy.
Kenney's 'Elm features Kenney and vocalist Nova Ruth (of Filastine & Twin Sista) alongside an ensemble of strings and Seattle's Gamelan Pacifica, performing on Javanese instruments tuned to the slendro scale. An uncanny timbre created by bowing the keys of the Gamelan's instruments, supported by bowed harmonics from the strings, is heard consistently throughout the piece. After a long introductory section in which this harmonic cloud slowly descends from shimmering high notes to rumbling bass, the vocalists enter, singing a slow and stately setting of a 19th century Surakarta poem (attributed to Mangkunegara the IV). The melody is sung as a rich and wavering heterophony, with the ensemble sometimes rising up to support individual notes. The poem deals with the idea of a form of knowledge achieved through deeds, as a practice and state of the heart. This is music in slow motion, in which, in Kenney's words,