Cerca:risk

Ryuichi Sakamoto, Daniel Lanois, Loscil, K Leimer, Deaf Center, Tangerine Dream, Arvo Pärt Wake is a distillation and reflection of the work of three Portland musicians thrown, like the rest of the world, into forced isolation by the continually-mutating curse of a natural world in disequilibrium. The product of involuntarily inward-looking emotional landscapes, Wake emerged sounding surprisingly expansive and confident. The trio uses a variety of instruments –including harp, fretless bass, piano, and a variety of synthesizers– to conjure sparkling panoramas of the imagination that are deep-pooled and impressionistic, bracing yet comforting. Mike Grabarak and Joshua Ward have performed together for years as a duo under the moniker of Location Services, while Derek Hunter Wilson has primarily worked as a solo composer in the classical realm. For the Points Of No Return compilation, Beacon Sound's 50th release and a benefit for the Beirut Musicians Fund, they recorded a collaborative piece entitled "Interdependence In Solitude" that was so promising the label offered to release an album if they continued down the path they had started upon. The resulting eight songs are simply mesmerizing. Made during a period of change and upheaval in the world and society where many people were disconnected from others, the album is the product of a collage-like dialogue built on trust and patience. While the musicians couldn’t physically be together for much of this time, they began sending musical ideas to one another in a conversational back-and-forth that acted as an anchor of stability – something they found they could turn to and depend on when things felt uncertain elsewhere. This comfort zone led to some transcendent moments of experimentation. “Delicate Need”, for example, features recordings of exaggerated pizzicato that were sampled and then run back through processing effects, which were then subsequently performed live over the original track. As things became less risky on the Covid front, they would occasionally meet for backyard rehearsals. Indeed, a recording of one of these rehearsals became the basis for the opening track “Photo Aware”. Wake will be available later this summer as a limited edition LP, with design work by Berlin-based Studio Bernhardt. The cover painting was created by Portland artist Nate Ethington. Highlights: – Derek was invited by the artist Gregory Euclide (Bon Iver, Erased Tapes) to participate in his label project, Thesis, along with artists such as Benoit Pioulard, Loscil, and Julianna Barwick. – Derek‘s first and second albums as a solo artist were released by Beacon Sound (Travelogue, 2017; Steel, Wood, & Air, 2019). – Location Services likewise released their 2019 album Reincorporate on the label. – The artists plan to tour together in 2023. Cascadia release shows TBA. Bios: Location Services is the Portland-based project of multi-instrumentalist Mike Grabarek (Magic Fades) and harpist Joshua Ward. They’ve released music on Beacon Sound and Beer On The Rug. They perform both written and improvised music. Derek Hunter Wilson is a composer and multi-instrumentalist based in Portland. He has released two solo albums on Beacon Sound and has also collaborated with visual artist Gregory Euclide for his Thesis Project label, resulting in a split 10" with Spanish musician Rauelsson. He has additionally collaborated with poets Zachary Schomburg and Brandi Katherine Herrera for several sound and performance pieces. He has performed live on the West Coast and in Berlin, sharing the stage with artists such as Colleen, Amulets, and Liima.

Opening with the buzz of a smartphone on vibrate, First Hate’s sophomore album Cotton Candy launches to life with “Someone New,” a synth-driven statement of intent. The Danish duo’s charged songs are rooted in a recognizable universe, but traverse a wide array of genre experiments and pop detours. Cotton Candy follows the quest of its protagonist stumbling through a crumbling world, winning and losing lovers, swinging from extreme highs to hopeless lows. The title alludes to transience and ecstasy, the surge of a sugar rush before nausea sets in, the way cotton candy dissolves into nothingness leaving only sticky fingers. Throughout, the productions glitter with synthetic detail and hypermodern finesse, effervescent but elusive. “Life is a rollercoaster and we’ve ridden the ups and downs.” During the recording sessions, a collage of Copenhagen musicians flowed through the studio. First Hate is a fixture of the city’s creative community, but ultimately exists in their own sphere, carving a niche as parallel universe pop stars, embracing sweet and bitter, risk and reward: “Sometimes the ones who love you most are the ones who hold you back.” Anton and Joakim grew up in Copenhagen and met when they were 15 through common friends on the street where they lived. “I didn’t enjoy being home so I used to stay at my friend Jakob's basement in an old church on Willemoesgade street,” says Wei. “His mom was the priest. She baptized Anton at age eight during his Jesus phase when he demanded a late baptism from his atheist parents. Jakob was friends with Elias who lived up in Anton’s end and they introduced us to each other. One summer my parents finally married after 20 years of dating. Joakim moved in for two weeks and we accidentally trashed the apartment while they were on their honeymoon. Later on Jakob, Elias, and two other friends, Dan and Johan, formed the band Iceage. Watching our friends’ growing success was a catalyst in creating our own project. At that point everybody in our friend group was making punk music, so the most punk thing we could think to do was start a pop duo.” The First Hate catalog comprises more than nine years of work, including their 2017 cult classic, A Prayer For The Unemployed, a collaborative album Dittes Bog, two EPs and several singles. All of the recordings are self-produced, until they are ready to be finished in the studio. “We have sort of a twin alliance. Like couples finishing each other’s spaghetti at restaurants, we finish each other’s music. Having people enter this sacred mix has been such a pleasure.” On stage Anton and Joakim embody the contrasting yet complimentary energies of yin and yang: Joakim pushing buttons, steering the ship, working synths and samplers with harmonious calm, while Anton’s body bullets around the stage, pounding out his kinetic dance moves. The name Anton means fragile flower, an apt metaphor for his stage presence. A fragile flower shooting through concrete. To behold a performer who consistently delivers such intense live performances is a rare pleasure. “Live means love. When everything is right. When we meet the audience heart to heart. Then the planet spins even faster.” First Hate has performed over a hundred shows across Europe, Asia, the U.S., and Russia, both as headliners and alongside fellow Copenhagen acts Iceage, Lust For Youth, Communions, Soho Rezanejad, Trentemøller and Grand Prix. “We are on a quest of love, yes it’s as cheesy as that.”

When Rey Sapienz was eight years old, the Democratic Republic of Congo was plunged into the Second Congo War. The conflict last five years and was the bloodiest since World War II, leaving an indelible mark on East Africa and creating mass displacement and loss of life. But Sapienz endured, cutting his teeth as a young rapper at twelve, first performing to celebrate Congo's independence day. When he finished school, he headed to nearby Kampala to hone his craft and collaborate with local producers. But civil war broke out back home and he was forced to extend his stay in Uganda. Since then, Sapienz has established himself as a force to be reckoned with, co-founding the Hakuna Kulala label, teaching his Ableton Live skills to Kampala's young producers and releasing two acclaimed EPs. For his debut album, Sapienz embarks on an ambitious project that travels beyond the avant beatscapes of his early material. Alongside traditional percussionist, vocalist and dancer Papalas Palata and rapper Fresh Doggis, he has formed The Congo Techno Ensemble, utilizing their skills and experience to offer a statement that speaks to the past, present and future of the DRC. On "Eza Makambo", the trio channel rich musical traditions and historic tension, evolving electronic and traditional forms into boundless sci-fi mutations. The track breaks open the stories all three artists accumulated in the DRC, augmenting radioactive techno-dancehall beats with radical, open-hearted words and rhymes. "Eza Makambo" is a heady cocktail of stylistic futurism and harsh reality that could be compared with Zizou Bikaye's seminal "Noir et Blanc or Danis Mpunga & Paul K.'s genre-breaking electronic experiments. But marked by the DRC's recent scars, it's a critical work that stands painfully alone.

300 transparent green vinyl 12” albums / 400 black vinyl 12”. In their relatively brief lifetime, between 1996 and 2002, Hefner enjoyed an incredibly productive four-album, multi-EP career. Their beautiful, concise, intelligent songs earned a fiercely loyal, cult audience and the long-term support of legendary DJ John Peel, for whom they recorded innumerable sessions. Originally released in 2001, their final album, Dead Media, found Hefner reaching out and taking risks. Keen to break free of their indie-folk roots, they cocooned themselves in a home studio with broken analogue synthesizers, antique drum machines and battery-powered amplifiers. The band’s naivety and guile produced some curiously engaging music, with frontman Darren Hayman’s precise, economic, poetic dissections of quotidian romance draped over awkward, fuzzy beats: something like Cat Stevens covering Warm Leatherette. Dead Media caused confusion at the time and ultimately lead to the band’s break up. However, the songs like ‘Junk’, ‘The Night’s Are Long’ and ‘When The Angels Play Their Drum Machines’ are among Hayman’s most adult and affecting essays and stand out among the finest of Hefner’s achievements. Tracks: 1 Dead Media 2 Trouble Kid 3 Junk 4 When The Angels Play Their Drum Machines 5 Union Chapel Day 6 China Crisis 7 Alan Bean 8 Peppermint Taste 9 The Mangle 10 The King Of Summer 11 The Nights Are Long 12 Treacle 13 Half A Life 14 Waking Up To You 15 Home

300 transparent green vinyl 12” albums / 400 black vinyl 12”. In their relatively brief lifetime, between 1996 and 2002, Hefner enjoyed an incredibly productive four-album, multi-EP career. Their beautiful, concise, intelligent songs earned a fiercely loyal, cult audience and the long-term support of legendary DJ John Peel, for whom they recorded innumerable sessions. Originally released in 2001, their final album, Dead Media, found Hefner reaching out and taking risks. Keen to break free of their indie-folk roots, they cocooned themselves in a home studio with broken analogue synthesizers, antique drum machines and battery-powered amplifiers. The band’s naivety and guile produced some curiously engaging music, with frontman Darren Hayman’s precise, economic, poetic dissections of quotidian romance draped over awkward, fuzzy beats: something like Cat Stevens covering Warm Leatherette. Dead Media caused confusion at the time and ultimately lead to the band’s break up. However, the songs like ‘Junk’, ‘The Night’s Are Long’ and ‘When The Angels Play Their Drum Machines’ are among Hayman’s most adult and affecting essays and stand out among the finest of Hefner’s achievements. Tracks: 1 Dead Media 2 Trouble Kid 3 Junk 4 When The Angels Play Their Drum Machines 5 Union Chapel Day 6 China Crisis 7 Alan Bean 8 Peppermint Taste 9 The Mangle 10 The King Of Summer 11 The Nights Are Long 12 Treacle 13 Half A Life 14 Waking Up To You 15 Home

In Kooperation mit dem Künstler, Komponisten und Sounddesigner stonefromthesky (Oleksii Zinchenko) bringt Black Screen Records den Soundtrack von Undungeon auf eure Plattenspieler. Die Musik zum Action-RPG von Laughing Machines erscheint in limitierter Auflage auf Doppel-Vinyl.Alle Tracks wurden von Christian Bethge (Risk of Rain, Deadbolt, Divinity: Original Sin II, A Plague Tale) sorgfältig neu gemastert und auf 45RPM geschnitten. Der Soundtrack kommt in einem minimalistischen Gatefoldsleeve mit Artwork von Serhii Kochmar und "Glow-in-the-Dark" Spotlack."Nach 6 langen Jahren der Produktion, in denen wir auf viele harte Proben gestellt wurden, ist der Undungeon OST endlich fertiggestellt. Heruntergebrochen auf 16 Tracks, bleibt es der Idee treu, den Soundtrack als zusammenhängendes Album zu veröffentlichen. Geschnitten in 45RPM für höchste Qualität, nimmt der Soundtrack euch mit auf eine musikalische Reise durch das Multiversum und geleiteten euch in den Shift." -stonefromthesky"

WRWTFWW Records is terrified to announce the first ever vinyl release for the soundtrack of 1988 J-horror cult movie Evil Dead Trap, available as a super limited edition double-sided picture disc LP. 500 copies were pressed and only 350 are being distributed to stores…that dare to carry it!

WARNING! What you are about to hear cannot be unheard! At last! The scariest soundtrack ever released on vinyl!

Fans of horror movies, rejoice, here is the never-released before Evil Dead Trap (Original Soundtrack) by Tomohiko Kira, a gruesome ride of spooky synths and devilish soundscapes, in the pure tradition of 80s terror. It’s minimalistic John Carpenter with a Tokyo underground twist, it’s basement giallo vibes with buckets of slasher blood, it’s EVIL DEAD TRAP, the scariest soundtrack ever released!

Enter now...AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Rebecca Goldberg wrote TROIS CENT TROIS as an auditory postcard with musings from a late-summer road trip across France in 2021. On TCT Rebecca sonically guides us through the emotion of new adventure and the risks involved during a time of global uncertainty.

The first single, TROIT CENT TROIS, is a play of the French way to say Detroit and 3-0-3. Like Rebecca's previous work on Detroit Underground, acid is the EP’s predominant sound. The next stop, A2 track Le Détroits, is an acidic metaphor for the celestial beauty of the French countryside. Face A ends with The Perception of our Power, a Ghettotech cut that's full of Detroit-funky/beloved-in-Paris bounce.

Flip to Face B and bathe in the acid arpeggiation of the lead-off track Paradoxe du Plaisir (Pleasure Paradox in English), referring to the practical difficulties encountered in the pursuit of pleasure. The destination B2 track, What It Means (To Start Over in a Ruined World), waxes poetic on the explanation with throbbing percussion and call and response rhythms.

According to Viktor Frankl in Man's Search for Meaning, "Happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensued and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself."

TROIS CENT TROIS was featured on Bandcamp’s “New and Notable” releases list and was highly regarded in The Wire magazine.

For the vinyl release, Rebecca designed a minimal black and white package with slanted black text reminiscent of France's directional local road signs. The vinyl is limited to 303 copies and each one is hand-signed and numbered.

Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album, ‘Flood’, Stella
Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as
an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be.
 ‘Flood’ is Donnelly’s record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation,
hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around.
 Donnelly’s early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be
traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a
hobby and an escape in a border-restricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural
world around her, Donnelly recalls “I was able to lose that feeling of anyone’s reaction to me. I
forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small
self.”
 Reconnecting with this ‘small self’ allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn’t know
existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming
months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the
country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market.
 Though the writing of ‘Flood’ was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the
recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members,
co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl’s Jake Webb helped to foster
an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could “dig in” and discover a
“forward-leaning sound” she’d been searching for, while Laverty’s ability to “capture the piano”
and discern the “perfect take” allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly
paid off.
 Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when “seen in a crowd
they create an optical illusion, but on its own it’s this singular piece of art.” While each song in
‘Flood’ is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance:
her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of
this record and, although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it’s well worth
diving in

Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album, ‘Flood’, Stella
Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as
an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be.
 ‘Flood’ is Donnelly’s record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation,
hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around.
 Donnelly’s early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be
traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a
hobby and an escape in a border-restricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural
world around her, Donnelly recalls “I was able to lose that feeling of anyone’s reaction to me. I
forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small
self.”
 Reconnecting with this ‘small self’ allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn’t know
existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming
months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the
country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market.
 Though the writing of ‘Flood’ was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the
recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members,
co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl’s Jake Webb helped to foster
an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could “dig in” and discover a
“forward-leaning sound” she’d been searching for, while Laverty’s ability to “capture the piano”
and discern the “perfect take” allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly
paid off.
 Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when “seen in a crowd
they create an optical illusion, but on its own it’s this singular piece of art.” While each song in
‘Flood’ is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance:
her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of
this record and, although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it’s well worth
diving in

Like the many Banded Stilts that spread across the cover of her newest album, ‘Flood’, Stella
Donnelly is wading into uncharted territory. Here, she finds herself discovering who she is as
an artist among the flock, and how abundant one individual can be.
 ‘Flood’ is Donnelly’s record of this rediscovery: the product of months of risky experimentation,
hard moments of introspection, and a lot of moving around.
 Donnelly’s early reflections on the relationship between the individual and the many can be
traced back to her time in the rainforests of Bellingen, where she took to birdwatching as both a
hobby and an escape in a border-restricted world. By paying closer attention to the natural
world around her, Donnelly recalls “I was able to lose that feeling of anyone’s reaction to me. I
forgot who I was as a musician, which was a humbling experience of just being; being my small
self.”
 Reconnecting with this ‘small self’ allowed Donnelly to tap into creative wells she didn’t know
existed. Soon songs were coming to her in a way she could not control and over the coming
months, Donnelly accumulated 43 tracks as she moved out of Bellingen and around the
country, often finding herself displaced due to border restrictions and a tough rental market.
 Though the writing of ‘Flood’ was an intensely personal undertaking, Donnelly still saw the
recording process as one of her most collaborative projects yet. Along with her band members,
co-producing the record beside Anna Laverty and Methyl Ethyl’s Jake Webb helped to foster
an important spontaneity in the studio. With Webb, Donnelly could “dig in” and discover a
“forward-leaning sound” she’d been searching for, while Laverty’s ability to “capture the piano”
and discern the “perfect take” allowed the songwriter to take risks, many of which have clearly
paid off.
 Looking back at the Banded Stilt, Donnelly ultimately appreciates how when “seen in a crowd
they create an optical illusion, but on its own it’s this singular piece of art.” While each song in
‘Flood’ is a singular artwork unto itself, the collective shares all of Stella Donnelly in abundance:
her inner child, her nurturing self, her nightmare self; all of herself has gone into the making of
this record and, although it would take an ocean to fathom everything she feels, it’s well worth
diving in

We all make mistakes. We all have regrets. We all look back on the loves and losses life brings and lament on how things might have been different. In these deeply personal moments of reflection our emotions can run wild as we contemplate our choices and come to terms with what’s next. Hindsight is a powerful and complex thing, and a phenomenon whose intricacies are explored in captivating fashion on The Greatest Mistake Of My Life, the second album from Cardiff’s Holding Absence.

Building on the excellent foundations laid down by the band’s eponymous debut record, released in 2019, and following standalone singles ‘Gravity’ and ‘Birdcage’, the four-piece have returned with a group of songs that, in the view of vocalist Lucas Woodland, are the truest representation of Holding Absence to date.

Inspired by a song of the same name that was recorded in the 1930s by actor and singer Dame Gracie Fields, The Greatest Mistake Of My Life is rooted in a time long before Holding Absence even existed. Lucas’ great uncle covered the song during the 1950s – something the frontman repeats on this album – and after finding this out from his grandmother, the singer decided the poignancy of its words were worthy of titling Holding Absence’s next record.

Holding Absence – the band completed by bassist James Joseph and drummer Ashley Green – carry the The Greatest Mistake Of My Life’s contemplative and thoughtful spirit throughout their second album. Whereas their debut was a concept record about the subject of love, The Greatest Mistake Of My Life’s inspirations are more complex, as Holding Absence stare down love in the face of death, all the while musing on the vast array of emotions we as humans experience throughout our lives.

Lead single ‘Beyond Belief’ is a soaring epic about the risk of loving someone forever, when their definition of ‘Forever’ might be different to yours, and a song that, Lucas says, argues how “love is something worth taking a risk on.” Holding Absence’s unique approach to romance is also present on atmospheric tracks like ‘Curse Me With Your Kiss’ and ‘Afterlife’, but for every display of affection, The Greatest Mistake Of My Life counters with despondency. ‘Die Alone (In Your Lover’s Arms)’ tells of the loneliness two people feel within a relationship long-turned sour, while ‘In Circles’ speaks to the monotony of everyday life and the crushing of dreams.

The Greatest Mistake Of My Life soundtracks the journey of our lives via all of its despair, elation, joy and pain, but never once tells the listener how they should be feeling.


Shedding their skins and emerging into a bright new phase for their band, with The Greatest Mistake Of My Life, Holding Absence are embracing change whilst holding onto the things that make them special. Aesthetic, for instance, remains important to Lucas and his bandmates, but as seen in the video for ‘Beyond Belief’, no longer do they exist in a world of purely black and white colour. Ushering in a colourful new era for Holding Absence, Lucas speaks of a desire “to bring warmth to people’s lives.”

Armed with a stellar new album and an unflinching belief in their craft, this new incarnation of Holding Absence promises to excite and impress like never before. An enthralling collection of songs and stories that tell of love, life, death and everything in between, The Greatest Mistake Of My Life is a thrilling record, and one its creators were born to make.

As Holding Absence have proved, the greatest mistakes can sometimes open the door to even greater triumphs.

“Rob wanted the world of The Northman to feel harsh and uncomfortable, and for everything to feel like it was caked in mud and dry blood, so it was crucial for the score to mirror that.” Composers Robin Carolan (Tri-Angle Records) and Sebastian Gainsborough (Vessel) were given a task of epic proportions when director Rob Eggers (The VVitch, The Lighthouse) asked them to create the score for his ambitious and highly anticipated new film The Northman, releasing on April 22nd. They needed to make a score that both honored the immense research that had gone into the authenticity of this Viking era period piece and complimented the cinematic maximalism of the film for a modern audience. The artists stretched themselves to the depths of their creativity and the resulting album is a gorgeous sonic tableaux that places the listener right in the center of the film.

While arranging the score the composers consulted musician and ethnographer Poul Høxbro for inspiration and insight into the history of Viking music. Having backgrounds in left field electronic music, Robin and Sebastian felt liberated by the constraint of using a small selection of musical tools for this piece. “Electronic music has almost limitless potential when it comes to making sounds and that’s obviously an incredible thing, but you can also go down the wormhole and get lost in it sometimes. There’s no risk of that happening when you only have a few primary instruments to draw upon.” Robin remarked.

They utilized traditional instruments such as the tagelharpa, langspil, kravik lyre, and säckpip to build the cinematic world of The Northman but they also took creative freedoms in adding instruments likes drums, which some academics believe wouldn’t have played a big part in Viking musical culture, simply due to the lack of archaeological evidence of actual drums. “One of the pieces we wrote was intended to emulate the sound of a bullroarer; an ancient instrument used in sacred rituals or in battle to intimidate enemies. It makes a really disorienting roaring vibrato sound and low frequencies capable of traveling insane distances.” Robin says when asked about one of the more unique aspects of the score. Everyone involved put so much effort into both their research and their creativity and this richness is evident in every track. The album as a whole is a cinematic masterpiece of sound and ambiance, both gorgeous and disturbing, like the film it so beautifully accompanies.

“Rob wanted the world of The Northman to feel harsh and uncomfortable, and for everything to feel like it was caked in mud and dry blood, so it was crucial for the score to mirror that.” Composers Robin Carolan (Tri-Angle Records) and Sebastian Gainsborough (Vessel) were given a task of epic proportions when director Rob Eggers (The VVitch, The Lighthouse) asked them to create the score for his ambitious and highly anticipated new film The Northman, releasing on April 22nd. They needed to make a score that both honored the immense research that had gone into the authenticity of this Viking era period piece and complimented the cinematic maximalism of the film for a modern audience. The artists stretched themselves to the depths of their creativity and the resulting album is a gorgeous sonic tableaux that places the listener right in the center of the film.

While arranging the score the composers consulted musician and ethnographer Poul Høxbro for inspiration and insight into the history of Viking music. Having backgrounds in left field electronic music, Robin and Sebastian felt liberated by the constraint of using a small selection of musical tools for this piece. “Electronic music has almost limitless potential when it comes to making sounds and that’s obviously an incredible thing, but you can also go down the wormhole and get lost in it sometimes. There’s no risk of that happening when you only have a few primary instruments to draw upon.” Robin remarked.

They utilized traditional instruments such as the tagelharpa, langspil, kravik lyre, and säckpip to build the cinematic world of The Northman but they also took creative freedoms in adding instruments likes drums, which some academics believe wouldn’t have played a big part in Viking musical culture, simply due to the lack of archaeological evidence of actual drums. “One of the pieces we wrote was intended to emulate the sound of a bullroarer; an ancient instrument used in sacred rituals or in battle to intimidate enemies. It makes a really disorienting roaring vibrato sound and low frequencies capable of traveling insane distances.” Robin says when asked about one of the more unique aspects of the score. Everyone involved put so much effort into both their research and their creativity and this richness is evident in every track. The album as a whole is a cinematic masterpiece of sound and ambiance, both gorgeous and disturbing, like the film it so beautifully accompanies.

CYPRESS HILL - 30th ANNIVERSARY CASE BOOK
To commemorate the 30 year Anniversary of Cypress Hill’s debut album Get On Down is proud to present the complete album on 7 inch vinyl singles for the rst time ever housed in a deluxe casebook. LIMITED TO 2000 UNITS WORLDWIDE! The debut album is presented as a set of six 7-Inch vinyl records presented in a Hardcover Casebook which holds all six records in built-in sleeves Full-color 80 page booklet with liner notes by journalist Chris Faraone, complete with photos and lyrics, and more Housed in a premium outer slipcase, debossed with the iconic Cypress Hill logo in metallic red foil. When Cypress Hill came with their debut self-titled album 30 years ago, they made an immediate spark that captivated the Hip Hop audience, critics, and then the world. Led by B-Real with his nasal, singsong delivery, and Sen Dog to play the perfect hypeman, Cypress’ debut fueled tales of revenge, revolution, recreational drug use, gangbanging, and cultural pride. Like Public Enemy before them, the production was also a key factor in what made this debut so groundbreaking. DJ Muggs was able to craft a blueprint that would change Hip Hop production with his innovative stoned-out beats. Records like "How I Could Just Kill a Man", "Pigs", "Stoned is the Way of the Walk" and "Hand on the Pump" made this album an instant classic. Since its release, the album has won acclaim as one of Rolling Stone's Essential Recordings of the 90s and Top 100 Best Rap Albums by The Source Magazine. Journalist and author Chris Faraone highlights the group's relationship in the reissue's liner notes saying, "By the late 80s the undisputed Cypress unit finally formed. B and Sen realized that their diametric styles - the latter's deep wrangle, the formers inimitable high notes - complemented one another righteously. By then Muggs had bangers in the bag, as well as industry experience from a jaunt with the New York duo 7A3. B and Sen waited while Muggs messed with 7A3, and in that time began to build the blueprint for their raucous and weeded no-holds-barred style. Besides getting schooled on industry pitfalls, Muggs had also grown into hip-hop's most formidable young producer, while straddling the bi-coastal gap." Faraone was able to dive in deep with the band for the liner notes, hearing story after story, including the particularly interesting tale of their unlikely 91 radio hit, "How I Could Just Kill A Man". In the B Side wins again story, the group recalls receiving resistance from the label in regards to which single should hit radio first. Initially, the label thought "How I Could Just Kill A Man" was too risky, and even though the single initially "The Phuncky Feel One", one of the album's strongest cuts, as the A-Side, college and commercial mix-show radio couldn't resist the dusted, heavy groove of Kill A Man. The song – which included a catchy, LA drive-by-inspired chorus – ended up as an unlikely, but powerful double A-sided single that even topped the Billboard Rap charts. More singles would follow, including "Hand On The Pump"; "Pigs"; and "Latin Lingo". And by the fall of 1991, the album was a full-blown critics darling. If you are a Cypress Hill fan and 45 collector this limited edition 30 year Anniversary 7” boxset is a must have!

Combining power pop and street rock with a sour but raw power, Kiss Disease sign with Svart Records! Kiss Disease’s praised self-titled EP from 2020, together with their fierce performances, sparked a wide interest in the underground circles. Encouraged by the fantastic feedback, the band took a conscious risk and began recording their debut album with no record deal in sight. Soon after hearing about this, Svart Records struck a deal with the band, whose brave blend of power pop, street rock and catchy choruses is only becoming more multifaceted and personal. Kiss Disease’s debut album, titled You Met Me at a Strange Time, is based on the raw and sour force displayed on the garage punk EP from last year. On the other hand, the band wanted to expand their sound to a grander and more versatile direction. The guidelines were sought from the worlds of power pop and protopunk. “The core of our album is formed by a strong group effort. The songs were written both together and by everyone on their own, with the whole band having a say on their final form. This time we took influences from a wider spectrum, and it’s precisely this lack of a clear guideline that made us pursue a more emancipated and personal version of our sound”, says the band’s lead guitarist Alex Stöd. The band’s sound has evolved greatly in the last year. You Met Me at a Strange Time is diverse, fierce, sensitive, and surprising, all at the same time. According to singer/guitarist Ella Laine, an existential transformation of some sort took place amid album’s creation: “For me personally, this album embodies some sort of turning point between adulthood and the craziness of adolescence, a place where you sit up and take notice of first yourself and then the people around you. Difficult and untold situations are squeezed from between the lines in the lyrics, revealing both everything and absolutely nothing.” The first single Season Creep took a while for the song to be born since the band’s style was expanding from straightforward punk songs towards a more melodic expression.

Alex the Fairy is an artist based in Berlin producing music with an emphasis on electronic and concrete methods. Alex the Fairy is also part of the 3Ddancer trio, a live act focusing on improvisation and expression using electronics.

Alex The Fairy writes: "I had sent The Tapeworm tracks before, but I was being difficult so was asked to send a new bunch, with a deadline. I sent the new bunch, a fairly odd collection expecting perhaps some of them to be combined with the older stuff but not seeing any coherence in them. I figured The Tapeworm would find at least something. To my surprise the suggestion that came back was exclusively the tracks I had sent the second time, and, re-listening through the tracks in this new order after returning from a Christmas dinner lying on the floor of my nephews bedroom gave them a completely new context. Despite them being quite varied in terms of age (one had been flung together a few days earlier on the train while another was approaching Schulreife) they seemed to meld together in such a way that I hardly recognised them…

Last year my grandmother died. My last grandparent. I had put off seeing her during corona, as I thought it best not to put her at risk and had almost left to visit her days before her death but had delayed my departure because of a medical appointment. My failure to her weighs heavy on my mind - fates grimacing grin: too little, too late. The approaching march of death, one generation closer was a confrontation I wasn't prepared for.

While clearing out her flat in the following weeks I had kept some of my grandfathers cassettes, live recordings of jazz greats, Pink Floyd, Sade and some classical among them, none originals, several presumably from the radio e.g. a church organ rendition of Bach. At the time I wasn't sure why I was hanging on to them, other than the urge to hoard, and that it felt wrong not at least to keep some. Half a year later, half way through mixing this cassette, suffering from my first bout of COVID, I had the insatiable urge to hook up the cassette player I had received from my grandfather after his death around nineteen years earlier and had been dragging along with me since. I stuck a cassette in only to immediately return to the safety of my covers. I began to work my way into what I had saved, hearing the fruits of my grandfathers labour decades before. It felt like quite an intimate interaction with someone I had long lost contact to/was long gone. Quite a wonderful thing, these time traveling cassettes.

I returned to the tracks to mix them shortly before my corona/cassette experience, with a new mixing console at hand. I had been looking for one for several years, but nothing had ever clicked, until I found this old broadcast desk 30 minutes from my place (it also coincided with a payment from a job the sum of which matched the price identically… fates return). Installing became a massive hassle and I doubted my decision continuously, but the further it was implemented the more it made sense. The first track I recorded with the mixer is on this cassette. Shortly before the mixing I was introduced to an Effektgerät by a friend, Rapha. Another good friend Art lent me their one, and I ended up using copious amounts of it throughout mixing, alongside my usual space creators. All the tracks on this release were mixed again on this mixer and are in a sense all a bit of a dub of the originals. I wouldn't have worked this way without the mixer, and the effect gave me a dimension I hadn't had before, so, from a technical perspective, the mixer and this effect define this release, giving it a coherence, at least for me. Emotionally of course the chaos and turbulence of the preceding year and my newfound appreciation for the medium give it a meaning I will struggle to formulate." – Alex The Fairy, Berlin, 9 May 2022

Landscape Tantrums Lost for two decades, the recent rediscovery of Landscape Tantrums the first attempt at recording the music that would become The Mars Volta’s De-Loused In The Comatorium revealed an important and hitherto missing chapter in the group’s evolution. Selfrecorded by Omar (assisted by Jon DeBaun) at Burbank’s Mad Dog Studios within a head spinning four days, Landscape Tantrums captures De-Loused in somewhat embryonic form, though much of what would make The Mars Volta’s debut album such an electrifying, sublime experience was already in place: the fearless invention, the fusion of futurist rock elements and traditions from outside of the rock orthodoxy, the sense of virtuosity working in service of emotional effect. From a distance, The Mars Volta must have seemed as if they were on a high when they walked into the studio to record what they expected to be their debut album (“I didn’t think of it as demos or a dry run,” Omar says). The group had recently played the Coachella festival to rave reviews, a vindication of the quixotic risk Omar and Cedric had taken, quitting At The Drive In to lead such an uncompromising musical proposition.






Their debut EP, Tremulant, had similarly signalled their singular vision, and been rewarded with similarly positive feedback. But the truth was that The Mars Volta entered Mad Dog in tatters, scarcely believing anything other than failure lay within their reach. They’d recently lost their bassist, Eva Gardner, and parted ways with keyboard play Ikey Owens. Tensions were brewing with drummer Jon Theodore, too himself a replacement for founding drummer Blake Fleming Omar questioning Theodore’s commitment to the group. And sound manipulator Jeremy Michael Ward’s drug problem had gotten so far out of hand that he’d been sent to rehab, and wouldn’t return until two days into the Landscape Tantrums. The pressure upon Omar was intense, and it began to manifest in the form of physical and emotional breakdowns. His art was his life, but now he began to wonder if it was actually going to kill him. Under such heavy manners, miracles occurred at Mad Dog. Surely that’s the only way to describe the music contained on Landscape Tantrums, as Omar fashioned early versions of Inertiatic ESP, Drunkship Of Lanterns and Eriatarka that rivalled the Rick Rubin produced versions that ended up on De- Loused for intensity, precision and immediacy, as Cedric delivered a powerfully intimate reading of Televators, and as a bare bones version of the group sketched out the peaks of what would become their debut masterpiece in barely half a week, on a shoestring, and believing they wouldn’t last long enough to see it hit the shelves. Listening to Landscape Tantrums now, with the benefit of hindsight and the knowledge of what these songs will become, one notices Cedric has yet to fully find the voice that will lend The Mars Volta their devastating authority, that Eriatarka will evolve even further under Rick Rubin’s watch, and that the lyrics to De-Loused’s climactic chapter, Take The Veil Cerpin Taxt, have yet to be penned. But one also notices how lithe the group sound here, how hungry, and one appreciates the raw edge that Rubin would later polish to a venomous sharpness. More than mere historical curiosity, Landscape Tantrums is an essential text for the dedicated Mars Volta aficionado, and a breathtaking album in its own right.


[a] a1. Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of) [Unfinished Original Recordings Of De-Loused In The Comatorium]

Kicks & Hugs, a multi-disciplinary platform established in 2017 to hold space for like-minded creators, now launches its own label showcasing emerging sonic spheres that reach beyond momentary hype and trends alike. Based in Berlin, the foundation of Kicks & Hugs lies at intersectional crossroads of music and art, with their first record establishing a definite attitude towards contemporary artistry. Kicks & Hugs celebrates an immersive spectrum of talent across different mediums and promotes ideas composed of color to challenge a steady current of long exhausted black & white patterns within the realm of electronic music. The debut EP available on black & limited edition colored marble vinyl assorts a kinetic flow of ideas produced by a seemingly divergent roster. Completely ecstatic & exhilarating maze of rhythm by The Lone Flanger, additionally reworked with Varg2TM versus contrasting yet innovative dancefloor mechanics by Bertrand., ending with a hypnotic mix by Dasha Rush, the record is an absorbing material of dynamics that subtly surprise and leave nothing but an ambitious statement for what’s yet to come. KH01 is dedicated to a musical shape-shifter, a paramount figure, ephemeral talent & a dear friend – Andrew Smith. To end in his own words, Keep It Fungki. The Lone Flanger was an audio-visual project from the artist Jasen Loveland also known as Andrew Smith (1980-2021). Dedicated to exploring the intersection of music and visual arts in the expanded dimension, the work of TLF picked up where Loveland’s eponymous acid-based project left off, aspiring for a kind of transcendence that takes the listener beyond the previously known concepts to experiments with the possibility of creating a resonant bridge between frequencies, worlds and dimensions. The work of TLF questions, obfuscates and complexifies notions of rhythm, melody and musical genre… even our ability to rely on our senses for accurate information about the work in question Varg2TM also known as Jonas Rönnberg casts a cryptic shadow from the North over contemporary aesthetics, continuing to create in his largely collaborative and always thrilling approach. Tempering a caustic rhythmic sensibility with a pneumatic palette for high definition synthesis, his unique embrace of risk tests the reliability of the forms he works in as well as the genre borders he surveys. Bertrand.’s work as a producer incorporates a wide spectrum of influences and aims to create beyond the common means of electronic dance music. Bertrand.’s restless nature and desire for technical perfection bleed into his productions of bass-heavy futuristic soundscapes often juxtaposed with playfully intense dancefloor fundamentals. Dasha Rush constructs a rather wide assortment of electronic music and arts projects. She sees the genre as a starting place, not a destination. Rush brings up a mixture of rather rare electronic experimentation more akin to the brief movement of underground music. Credits: Mastering and mastercut by Andreas LUPO Lubich at Loop-O Cover artwork by Fredrik Altinell Graphic Design by Marta Braga Inner label artwork by Tommy Dwane Vocals by Kawala Bravo

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

If you’re looking for a raw, sugary blast of distorted pop, look no further than
‘Weird Nightmare’. The debut album from METZ guitarist and vocalist Alex
Edkins contains all of his main band’s bite with an unexpected, yet totally
satisfying, sweetness. Imagine The Amps covering Big Star, or the gloriously
hissy miniature epics of classic-era Guided by Voices combined with the
bombast of ‘Copper Blue’- era Sugar - just tons of red-line distortion cut with the
type of tunecraft that thrills the moment it hits your ears.
 These ten songs showcase a new side of Edkins’ already-established
songwriting, but even though the bulk of ‘Weird Nightmare’ was recorded during
the COVID-19 pandemic, some of its tunes date back to 2013 in demo form.
“Hooks and melody have always been a big part of my writing, but they really
became the main focus this time” he explains. “It was about doing what felt
natural.”
 To be clear: Weird Nightmare is not a ‘pandemic album’, but an album - some of
which had been gestating for quite a while - that just so happened to be recorded
during the pandemic. “I had always planned on finishing these songs, but being
unable to tour with METZ, and forced to lock down, really gave me a push.” After
days spent homeschooling his son, Edkins would drive to the METZ rehearsal
room and tinker deep into the night on these songs’ deceptively simple structures
and rich, static-laden textures. “It was a godsend for me,” he states about the
creative process. “The hours would disappear and I would get lost in the music
and record. It was a beautiful escape.”
 ‘Weird Nightmare’ is, in its own way, a study in extremes: Edkins’ melodic
instincts and penchant for dissonance are both turned up to the max throughout,
the latter reflecting not only the barn-burning tendencies of METZ, but Alex’s own
sonic predilections. “It doesn’t sound right to my ears until it’s pushed over the
edge.” He also cites other artists who are masterful at mixing the sublime and the
punishing - Kim Deal and Scout Niblett among them - as influences on his own
songwriting. “My favorite songs are the simple ones,” he explains. “I’ve never
been attracted to virtuosity or technicality. Certain songs have the power to lift
your spirits like nothing else can. I wanted to create that type of song.”
 A few guests pitch in on Weird Nightmare: Canadian alt-pop genius Chad
VanGaalen adds his unmistakable touch to the ever-escalating ‘Oh No’, while
Alicia Bognanno of Bully lends her distinctive pipes to the thrashing ‘Wrecked’, a
collaboration that effectively saved the song. “I almost didn’t put it on the album
because I thought it was missing something,” Edkins explains. “I sent it to Alicia
and she lifted it way up.”
 And taking risks and reaching out of Edkins’ comfort zone was the name of the
game when it came to making ‘Weird Nightmare’. “I found myself doing new
things I didn’t have the guts to do before, recording everything by myself and
trusting all of my musical instincts,” he states. “I think when music manifests
quickly, a certain amount of honesty automatically comes along with it. When it is
a purely instinctual creation, there is no opportunity to obscure the truth.”
 Loser Edition LP pressed on Coke Bottle Green transparent vinyl.

Reissue

With his new project On My Ones, Alfa Mist takes a personal journey into melody, composition, improvisation and his relationship with the piano. Taking a step back from production and additional instrumentation, the self-taught pianist explores the instrument across six new tracks recorded at Fieldgate Studio in Cardiff.

Taking a step back from production and additional instrumentation, the self-taught pianist explores the instrument across six new tracks recorded at Fieldgate Studio in Cardiff, set for release through his own label Sekito.

The dance floor as devotional is a trope as old as the club itself. But, with her new album, Jesus Was An Alien, Perel subverts the stakes of our collective communion: Who are our arms raised to? Who are we seeking salvation from?

“Jesus Was An Alien is a discourse about whether Jesus was an actual alien,” she explains, “but also a social debate about what is and implies religion today.” She offers up her provocative second record – her first on Kompakt – as a soundtrack for the listener’s own journey through the intricacies and ironies of modern belief.

Picking up on the themes she brought to her debut, the 2018’s LP Hermetica on DFA, Perel has created ten tracks rich with spirit and allusion. Her influences are myriad, from the indie dance hitmakers of the early 2000s – Hot Chip, Simian Mobile Disco, Justice – to rave compilations that predate her ascent to the DJ booth, to more abstract inputs. Living with synesthesia, she says, “I feel emotions and colors piling up inside me, then there’s a triggering sound or event that opens a valve. My tracks are color streams that tell a story.”

Jesus Was An Alien is not just multicolored – it’s multi-lingual too, slipping in and out of tongues in a single track, sometimes dispensing with words altogether (the ecstatic breakdown of “The Principle of Vibration”). The album features Perel’s voice almost entirely but for her special collaboration with Canadian songwriter Marie Davidson on the title track.

“Jesus Was An Alien” stirs like a late-night revelation, a heady discovery awakened in the dark. Perel lays out a fiercely disciplined electro pulse, with Davidson’s proclamations growing more fervent over the song’s sensual stride. “I already said everything with my synthesizers and the melodies I created,” Perel explains of the collaboration, but “somehow she gave the song a voice I couldn’t.”

Perel drives further not only spiritually but sonically across the ten tracks, taking thrilling production risks: standouts include her breathy vocals atop a melodic piano strut on “Matrix;” the delirious blur of ghostly chimes and disembodied voices of “Religion;” and the retro radiance of “The Principle of Vibration,” in which Perel exhorts us to “come on and vibe” over an athletic riff and shuffling percussion.

“Kill The System,” meanwhile, hits the listener with tense acid pulses, building to only an imagined release and calls out the end of patriarchy. Album closer “Am Kanal” starts as a pensive cloud of a track, finally breaking into a rich textural rain of synths and stabs.

The variety throughout Jesus Was An Alien underlines Perel’s purpose in this latest project; she’s experimenting her way to answers – or maybe just more questions. After all, she says, “questions are the beginning of something new.”

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

- First vinyl reissue, available on LP for the first time in 20 years - Completely remastered audio and restored artwork - Side D lunar vinyl etching art // After leaving London in 1999 for the sleepy seaside retiree town of Weston-super-Mare, Coil co-founders John Balance and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson set up shop in a palatial eight-bedroom estate to pursue the outer reaches of the group's heightening cabalistic chemistry. Among the staggering string of late-era masterpieces they produced is lunar opus Musick To Play In The Dark, widely hailed as an artistic zenith upon its release. The sessions that birthed it were in fact so fruitful that a second LP took shape during the creation of the first one. Aided by the recent addition of Welsh multi-instrumentalist engineer Thighpaulsandra, Coil mined further into the recesses of surrealist eldritch electronica Balance termed "moon music" - post-industrial spellcasting at the axis of narcotic and nocturnal energies. Musick To Play In The Dark² spans a full witching hour of bad acid sound design, synthesizer voyaging, opiated balladry, Luciferian glitch, and subliminal hymnals, alternately ominous, oracular, and absurd. Scottish gothic icon Rose McDowall guests on vocals for two tracks but otherwise the album is a hermetic affair, tapping into the group's limitless insular synergy. Opener "Something" is stark and incantational, a spoken word experiment for windswept voids. "Tiny Golden Books" unspools an aerial whirlpool of cosmic synth, both whispery and widescreen. "Ether" is an exercise in funeral procession piano and intoxicated wordplay ("It's either ether or the other"), while "Where Are You?" and "Batwings - A Liminal Hymn" lurk like liturgical murmurings heard on one's death bed, framed in granular FX and flickering candlelight. As a whole the collection skews more muted and remote than its predecessor, as if having grown accustomed to the nether regions of these darkening seances. But music box hallucination "Paranoid Inlay" captures the group's oblique comedic side, always glimmering beneath: over a warped, wobbly beat Balance intones an opaque narrative of serenity, Saint Peter, and suicidal vegetables, accompanied by spiraling harpsichord and stuttering squelches of electronics. "It seems concussion suits you," he repeats twice, like a macabre pickup line, before dictating a dear diary entry about risks and failures, finally concluding with as close to a self-portrait as Coil ever came: "On a clear day I can see forever / that the underworld is my oyster."

Building on the success of a solo EP released in early 2021, Franco-American jazz pianist Tom Sochas, previously known for his work with London staple Phoenician Blinds, releases his debut album 'The Sorcerer', which introduces Tom's new trio with Greek bassist Thodoris Ziarkas and British drummer Olly Sarkar. The record is very much an ode to story-telling, to ancient myths and tales, which presents itself as a present-day reimagining of a classic character. The album follows a linear story-line through which Tom Sochas blends his love of hard hitting post-bop and his passion for western classical repertoire to create an atmosphere rich in risk and solace.

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Kadi Yombo, published in 1989, is the most successful album in the quest for a fusion between tradition and modernity in Bwiti harp music of the Tsogho people of Gabon. Combining beating rattles with a layer of synthesizers, Papé Nziengui blends in a contrapuntal dialogue characteristic of harp playing: male song in appeal and female choir in response, male voice of the musical arc and rhythms of female worship. But above all it’s Tsogho ritual music and modern studio orchestration. The result is an initiatory itinerary of 10 musical pieces which are all milestones likely to be simultaneously listened to, danced, meditated on, and soon acclaimed. In the years since, Nziengui has traveled he world from Lagos to Paris, from Tokyo to Cordoba, from Brussels to Mexico City to become a true icon, the emblem of Gabonese music.

Like Bob Dylan, "electrifying" folk and Bob Marley mixing rock with reggae, some purists have criticized Nziengui for having distorted the music of harp by imposing a cross with modern instruments. They even went so far as to claim that Nziengui was just an average harpist covering his shortcomings with stunts that were only good for impressing neophytes; like playing a harp placed upside down behind his back or playing two or three harps simultaneously. Sincere convictions or venomous defamations, in any case, Nziengui never gave in to such attacks, imposing himself on the contrary to pay homage to the elders (Yves Mouenga, Jean Honoré Miabé, Vickoss Ekondo) while instructing the maximum of young people. He is thus the promoter of many young talents, the most prominent of which is certainly his nephew Jean Pierre Mingongué. In a conservative society where the sacred is confused with secrecy, exposing the mysteries of Bwiti in broad daylight can be punished by exclusion or even execution.

Papé Nziengui has always claimed that he faces such risks because he never felt enslaved to a community that governs his life, that regulates his conduct, that has a right of censorship over his activities. Like Ravi Shankar, the famous sitarist, Papé Nziengui is a man of rupture but also of openness, a transmitter of culture. As proof, he has established himself in Libreville, Gabo’s capital, as the main harpist for sessions and concerts, accompanying the greatest national artists (Akendengué, Rompavè, Annie-Flore Batchiellilys, Les Champs sur la Lowé, etc.) as well as foreign artists (Papa Wemba, Manu Dibango, Kassav', Toups Bebey, etc.). In 1988, he was the first harpist to release an album in the form of a cassette produced by the French Cultural Center (Papé Nziengui, Chants et Musiques Tsogho). At the same time, he created his own group (Bovenga), combining traditional music instruments (musical bow, drums, various percussion instruments, etc.) in the framework of a true national orchestra, which gave the first concert and the first tours of a traditional music that was both modern and dynamic, thus "democratizing" the harp, to the dismay of certain purists.

On the other hand, in modern music, dominated by the logic of profit or even commercialism, artistic creation must often be adjusted for a specific audience based on reason rather than heart. But instead of allowing himself to be distorted, Papé Nziengui has always tried to produce music that is not a caricature, worthy in its expression as in its content, of the sacredness and transcendence of the music of the Origins. This is what makes Nziengui not only the musician, but the man someone whose age hasn’t altered any of his freshness or authenticity

Reissue of Rolf Kühn's funky 1980 LP 'Cucu Ear', beside his brother
Joachim Kühn, who as always took the place at the keys, Rolf brought
together an illustrious group of musicians from a variety of backgrounds
for this record, including Alphonse Mouzon, Philip Catherine, Charlie
Mariano, Herb Geller and Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen
For a German jazz musician to find international recognition as a major player
has been and remains a rarity. Clarinettist Rolf Kühn belongs to this elite class.
No one sounds like him on the clarinet; warm, round and masterful, his tone
remains unmistakable no matter what style he may be playing at any given
moment. His play resonates with a maturity and wisdom gathered from a long
and rich life of musical experiences.
"I have always had the desire to find unusual set-ups for my productions – like
working with musicians who come from very different genres such as classical
music, jazz fusion, pop, etc. But these trains of thought, which of course can be
very tempting, can never be implemented without a risk. In the case of "Cucu Ear"
for example Alphonse Mouzon and Niels- Henning Ørsted Pedersen played
together for the first time ever. With Niels and Alphonse, coming from such
different stylistic directions, the plan worked out so perfectly that they are among
my favorite rhythm groups today. Not least because of my brother Joachim, who
plays fantastic additional synthesizer solos in addition to his great piano playing.
These were two wonderful days in the studio and an unusual and extraordinary
session that is still today very special for me." - Rolf Kühn, 2019

They are here, all over: sudden, random molecular movements. Invisible and yet extremely effective. Perceptible only to those who turn on things from a peculiar outlook. Now Rio unfolds the second edition of “Risks Issues Opportunities”, bringing interstellar musical developments full of little, yet profound molecule advances. Eight mystical fate spinners, with the muscle to shed some light on unanswered questions, that will stay unanswered after all. Monolithic, yet deeply fragile compositions, made by terrestrials like Leipzig based producer Syncboy, Pannotia from Sydney, Italy based dusty drum machines lovers Twoonky, Charlotte Simon, known as one half of the art duo Le Trucs from Frankfurt, Berlin mystic’s like Airaboi or Nadia D'Alò of the duo INIT, Brooklyn based “The Thing” housekeeper Willie Burns and Vienna’s symbolist sound poet Bocksrucker. They all created electric signs for the above. Murky analogue prophesiers without prophecy, bringing headway music against the greedy frontier spirit. Hypnotic tones out of a hazy musical outer space. Like a dream that forgot to dream, they wave around with veiled frequencies full of ray, processed through analogue machine power. Music, that is able to in sight humans to an Atget photography. Able to transmit flashes to the firmament, to stars that wander darkling in eternal space. And yes: to some who listen a sudden physical movement might transpire, despite the fact that all was made without a particular practical value. Art for art's sake‍. In favor of an alternative to reality. Compellingly haunted by itself. Like stone, that awaits a random molecular movement.

Cloakroom celebrate their tenth anniversary as a band with their new album, Dissolution Wave. Dissolution Wave is a concept - a space western in which an act of theoretical physics—the dissolution wave—wipes out all of humanity’s existing art and abstract thought. In order to keep the world spinning on its axis, songsmiths must fill the ether with their compositions. Meanwhile, the Spire and Ward of Song act as a filter for human imagination: Only the best material can pass through the filter and keep the world turning. This is the universe that Cloakroom guitarist/vocalist Doyle Martin conceived as a way of processing the last few years. “We lost a couple of close friends over the course of writing this record,” he says. “Dreaming up another world felt easier to digest than the real nitty-gritty we’re immersed in every day.” With lyrics based on an imagined cosmology, Dissolution Wave also marks a grand expansion of Cloakroom’s dreamy space-rock palette. Written from the perspective of the album’s protagonist—an asteroid miner who writes songs by night—”A Force at Play” has an airy, pastoral feel. Meanwhile, the melancholy title track captures the miner’s regret as they lament that they signed up for such a long stint on the job, while closer “Dissembler” describes their anxiety about the revelator who will judge their work. “If you don’t write a good enough song in this universe, you run the risk of being forgotten and lose the opportunity to return as a meaningful form of life,” Martin explains. The stakes have never been higher!

Newly remastered audio.
LP pressed on black vinyl & housed in a gatefold jacket.

Willie Nelson’s 1996 album Spirit is an emotional concept album illustrating the forlorn tale of a man abandoned by the great love of his life. We follow him down the path of loss as he confronts grief, gets back on his feet, and eventually finds solace in acceptance. While producing Spirit, Nelson assuredly knew the commercial risks behind releasing an album this melancholic. After all, in 1973 he himself wrote: “sad songs and waltzes ain’t selling this year.” Beloved by those familiar with Nelson’s deep catalog, Spirit largely slipped through the cracks in the mainstream, but remains highly revered amongst critics and fans alike.
Backed by legendary country fiddler Johnny Gimble (of Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys), sister Bobbie Nelson on piano, and his longtime touring guitarist Jody Payne, the song-cycle is anchored by lilting Spanish-inspired instrumentals that absorb a lonesome gravity when placed next to ballads that tug at even the most unwavering heartstrings. Likened to Bob Dylan’s Time Out Of Mind or Waylon Jennings’ Right For the Time, Spirit sees Nelson maturing most gracefully: he trades rousing sing-alongs and saloon tunes for gut-wrenching lyrics and instrumentation of greater precision and skill, proving this release as deep and as challenging as his career-defining albums released twenty years before.
Originally released by Island Records in 1996, Spirit is newly remastered and housed in a gatefold jacket. This is a chance to own this unique album in its most beautifully presented form.

Triumph breeds confidence, and with confidence comes an expansion of ambition, a focus of ability, an emboldening of audacity. De-Loused In The Comatorium had risked everything Omar and Cedric possessed on the wildest of gambits, the most impossible of dreams: making sense of the riot of influences ricocheting about Omar’s head, and memorialising their departed friend Julio Venegas through Cedric’s magical realist roman-a-clef. It Clouds Hill shouldn’t have worked. But it did, and with that fiendish tightrope act successfully accomplished, the duo stretched the wire even further and higher, over a figurative fiery pit peopled with lions, crocodiles, piranha and other sharp-toothed beasts not yet known to man. Because how do you make great art without taking great risks? Frances The Mute was no De-Loused Part Two. For one thing, the band’s configuration had changed, in the most painful way. Shortly before the release of De- Loused, sound manipulator and founder member Jeremy Michael Ward passed away, a wound Omar says the group never recovered from. But even though his inspired fucking- with-the-sonic-parameters is absent from Frances The Mute, his spirit and influence can still be determined, the album’s concept derived from a diary Ward had encountered in his day-job in repossession. “Jeremy picked up lots of interesting stuff when he was a repo man,” remembers Cedric. “Weird things, including this diary, He let us read it a bunch of times. It was by a guy who’d been adopted and was searching to find his real parents. It was very surreal, it didn’t make much sense – the guy might’ve been schizophrenic – but it was very inspiring. It felt like how certain music helps you escape your boring every-day life. The names and scenes in the diary directly inspired these songs.” Some of the tracks pre-dated De-Loused, having their origins in early demos Omar recorded at the duo’s Long Beach home Anikulapo, songs such as The Widow and Miranda The Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. Cedric had heard these jams in their embryonic state and began working in his mind on what he could bring to them. “I was attracted to The Widow like you would be to a lover, right?” Cedric remembers. “I sang over it with Omar while we were touring De-Loused in Australia on the Big Day Out, like, ‘Okay, I’ve got something for this.’” A potent ballad, laden with emotional crescendos and evoking the epic drama of Ennio Morricone – an effect aided by an elegiac trumpet part performed by Flea – The Widow would become The Mars Volta’s first song to chart on the Billboard Top 100, capturing the album’s potent sorrow and widescreen sprawl in miniature. Indeed, the lush sound of the album, the depth of detail and breadth of instrumentation, belies its grungy roots. Having tasted the luxury of Rick Rubin’s mansion, Omar veered in the opposite direction when recording Frances, cutting the album in what he describes as “a shithole... Basically a warehouse with one little air conditioner on its last legs, awful wiring and a console you couldn’t rely on. We were there night and day – I would literally lock engineer Jon DeBaun in there. He slept on a mattress in the vocal booth.” A considerably more complex and ambitious album than its predecessor – four of its five tracks lasted over ten minutes in length, with its closing epic Cassandra Gemini spanning over half an hour – Frances The Mute wasn’t recorded “live” by an ensemble, but with the individual musicians coming into the “shithole” and recording the parts Omar had scripted for them separately. “They had to have absolute trust in me,” Omar remembers, “Like actors trust their director.” In addition to the core band – now fleshed out with incoming bassist Juan Alderete, and Omar’s brother Marcel on keyboards and percussion – the album featured guitar solos from John Frusciante, saxophone and flute by future member Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales, a full string section, and piano played by Omar’s hero, salsa legend Larry Harlow. “It was a childhood dream come true,” Omar says. “We recorded with him in my hometown in Puerto Rico, and my father flew in to watch the session. Larry was a perfect gentleman, and a very lively spirit.” The album’s fevered intensity infected even the staid string section, Cedric remembers. “When they performed the part on Cassandra Gemini, ’25 wives in the lake tonight’, one of the guys in the orchestra played so hard he broke his bow, this real old, antique bow. And you could see his ‘classical’ side come out – like, ‘I broke this playing a fuckin’ rock song??’ He was pissed off. But I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, man, that’s on the record! You’ve got to realise things like that are cool.’” The album also features field recordings of “the coqui of Puerto Rico” during the opening minutes of Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. “We took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s book there,” laughs Cedric. “They recorded air. We recorded fuckin’ frogs in Puerto Rico.”

Room is a female-led early progressive rock group with minor orchestrations, simple jazzy vocals, heavy guitars and extended tracks. Like most early progressive rock-groups there's also some blues-rock and jazz-rock. The mix of genres works great for variety and is a good example of its time. The use of a small orchestra (violins, violas, cellos, bass, trumpets, horn, trombone) is always risky business for progressive rock-groups, but Room excels in its limited and effective use. Way better integrated then, for example, the silly orchestrations on Salisbury. Another key-element of the listening experience is the recording quality, which is remarkably good for such an unknown record - especially when it comes to the spacious feeling. The instruments are well spread in the musical landscape.

Geese are a band that begins and ends in Brooklyn, as a
project between friends to build a home studio out of a
basement.
 Their debut album, ‘Projector’ (from which this single is
taken), is born from the same ambition: make music by
any means necessary. The songs were recorded with
sneakers as mic stands and blankets draped over the
amps, all within the afternoon following a school day, up
until they ran the risk of noise complaints.
 As a result, ‘Projector’ is as much a moment in time as it is
an album. It represents five teenagers whose love of
music touches every part of their lives: their restless
anxiety about their futures, and their pent-up frustration
with their present - a perspective all too familiar in today’s
uncertain world. Perhaps then it only makes sense that the
figure on the album cover was born from a dream:
curiously alien, yet strangely familiar.
 Creative direction by Matt De Jong and Jamie JamesMedina (Fontaines D.C., Arlo Parks, Mura Masa, FKA
Twigs).
 Two sold out London shows at The Windmill and The
Sebright Arms. First time ever playing in the UK.
 7” features ‘Low Era’ on the A side and a never before
heard bonus track called ‘Smoke In Japan’ on the B side.

Geese are a band that begins and ends in Brooklyn, as a
project between friends to build a home studio out of a
basement.
 Their debut album, ‘Projector’ is born from the same
ambition: make music by any means necessary. The
songs were recorded with sneakers as mic stands and
blankets draped over the amps, all within the afternoon
following a school day, up until they ran the risk of noise
complaints.
 As a result, ‘Projector’ is as much a moment in time as it is
an album. It represents five teenagers whose love of
music touches every part of their lives: their restless
anxiety about their futures, and their pent-up frustration
with their present - a perspective all too familiar in today’s
uncertain world. Perhaps then it only makes sense that the
figure on the album cover was born from a dream:
curiously alien, yet strangely familiar.
 Creative direction by Matt De Jong and Jamie JamesMedina (Fontaines D.C., Arlo Parks, Mura Masa, FKA
Twigs).
 Two sold out London shows at The Windmill and The
Sebright Arms. First time ever playing in the UK

Geese are a band that begins and ends in Brooklyn, as a
project between friends to build a home studio out of a
basement.
 Their debut album, ‘Projector’ is born from the same
ambition: make music by any means necessary. The
songs were recorded with sneakers as mic stands and
blankets draped over the amps, all within the afternoon
following a school day, up until they ran the risk of noise
complaints.
 As a result, ‘Projector’ is as much a moment in time as it is
an album. It represents five teenagers whose love of
music touches every part of their lives: their restless
anxiety about their futures, and their pent-up frustration
with their present - a perspective all too familiar in today’s
uncertain world. Perhaps then it only makes sense that the
figure on the album cover was born from a dream:
curiously alien, yet strangely familiar.
 Creative direction by Matt De Jong and Jamie JamesMedina (Fontaines D.C., Arlo Parks, Mura Masa, FKA
Twigs).
 Two sold out London shows at The Windmill and The
Sebright Arms. First time ever playing in the UK

There are records with empathy, records which are your friends and then there's the others... There might be little difference between them, a certain "je ne sais quoi", an "almost nothing but still something" which makes the difference between almost pointless and vital records. Despite, or rather thanks to his cynical despair, Matt Elliott's music never holds up a moralizing mirror to us - on the contrary, it creates a compassionate dialogue with listeners like the rhythm of two steps that synchronize to become as one. In 2016, Matt Elliot brought out his seventh solo album The Calm Before whose obscure title is neither exactly threatening nor comforting... the calm before what? Before the storm for sure but maybe also before the great record, the immediate classic we felt might be coming for a long time in the dual discography of the Bristol-born artist working under his own name and his electronic alias Third Eye Foundation. The elegant details and perspectives of Little Lost Soul (2000) already hinted at the upcoming masterpiece from the English singer-songwriter. The Mess We Made (2003) was Matt Elliott's first solo album and portrayed a universe in a kind of flight towards Balkan horizons made up of visceral despair. With the Songs trilogy, he put aside the electronic side of his work to continue working with a minimalist, stark and lucid style of writing. The Broken Man (2012) was full of tears and long laments sometimes carried by Katia Labèque's piano on a record which painted new shades of grey. On this record Matt began working with the producer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist David Chalmin (La Terre Invisible) who has kept on collaborating with the Bristol-born singer since then. Their partnership continued on Only Myocardial Infection Can Break Your Heart (2013) and The Calm Before (2016). Stéphane Grégoire is the head of the Ici D'Ailleurs label which has accompanied Matt Elliott since 2005 and perhaps he describes this album the best: "This new record by Matt is without a doubt his best album to date, a record that takes him into another dimension where he fully asserts himself as a songwriter and singer of the calibre of artists like Bill Callahan, Leonard Cohen or Johnny Cash." Matt Elliott's other records all seemed like empathic links between each other. Farewell To All We Know is an instant classic based on the sensitive piano and superb arrangements of David Chalmin, the sensitive cello of Gaspar Claus, the subtle bass of Jeff Hallam (who has also played with Dominique A and John Parish). There is a clear form of alchemy in all of this and still we find Matt Elliott's usual atmospheres and scenery, the same Eastern European folk music, long songs that take time to settle over time. Everything is the same but also is transfigured. By making his music stark and purifying and redefining the subject matter, Matt Elliott's work became so much more delicate. However this work is never frail nor really turned in on himself and thus becomes like a vital tune that vibrates and unfolds. The opening song Farewell To All We Know seems torn between the fear of what tomorrow may bring, inevitability and hope for the future in a permanent and progressive dramatic tension expressed by his Spanish guitar, the impressionist style piano and Matt's voice teetering on the edge of whispers. A funereal tribute to endless twilights and the dawns we all dream of seeing. There are touches of Leonard Cohen from Songs from a Room or Thanks For The Dance in The Day After That with Gaspar Claus's counterpoint cello. There is no spirit of resignation in Matt Elliott's work - life's path has to be followed against all odds. We have to follow the river's flow to reach the immense ocean and its infinite freedom. The haunted instrumental Guidance Is Internal harks back to the atmospheres of Howling Songs (2008) with its guitar parts full of scansions and muted threats. The music is transcendental but never seems afraid of the risk of falling. This is also what Bye Now tells us with its quasi-obsolete simplicity and sunburst melancholy reminiscent of the work of Luiz Bonfá, Bill Evans on Peace Piece or laidback crooners of the 50s. In Farewell To All We Know, Matt Elliott incessantly alternates between the dual desires to face up to the world or to protect himself from it. Hating The Player, Hating The Game is a lucid statement about the dullness of our daily lives sometimes, our right to get out of the game and no longer want to be part of it. Matt Elliott is tender but spares no one, particularly himself. Aboulia speaks of the tiredness of living and of looming death while Crisis Apparition says that there is always a time for reconstruction after chaos. This is like initially wearying wandering in the ruins of Aleppo with the slow dilution of the melody into a hallucinated drone. However the smell of great fires always fades and the earth always regenerates. Matt Elliott seems to suggest that the survival instinct is stronger than any cold winds could ever be. Matt Elliott never sings of certainties and prefers possibilities. Possibly the worst is over? Maybe... Maybe the storm has passed and devastated everything, now we just have to rebuild and live again. Farewell To All We Know shows us the distance that still needs to be walked and he walks next to you - right next to you, he is the friend who doesn't spare you the truth like all true friends really do.