Поиск:sad park

No More Sound, Sad Park’s third full-length, begins with an ending. More specifically, with its own ending. Because the short, just-over-a-minute-long “No More Songs” is kind of a stripped-down reprise of the title track that closes this record. In one way, it means this album—the band’s first for Pure Noise—travels back in time over its 38 or so minutes, but in another it’s also traveling forwards. Because while “No More Sound” is a more fleshed-out version of “No More Songs”, it also contains melodic and lyrical throwbacks to the eleven songs that sit between them. Perhaps more importantly, as everything comes full circle on the record, it offers something that the opener doesn’t. Recorded across ten days at Balboa Studios in Los Angeles, No More Sound is, in fact, the sound of a band really coming into their own.

No More Sound, Sad Park’s third full-length, begins with an ending. More specifically, with its own ending. Because the short, just-over-a-minute-long “No More Songs” is kind of a stripped-down reprise of the title track that closes this record. In one way, it means this album—the band’s first for Pure Noise—travels back in time over its 38 or so minutes, but in another it’s also traveling forwards. Because while “No More Sound” is a more fleshed-out version of “No More Songs”, it also contains melodic and lyrical throwbacks to the eleven songs that sit between them. Perhaps more importantly, as everything comes full circle on the record, it offers something that the opener doesn’t. Recorded across ten days at Balboa Studios in Los Angeles, No More Sound is, in fact, the sound of a band really coming into their own.

Famed actor and resident at the Schaubühne theatre in Berlin Lars Eidinger presents the reissue of his cult record I'll Break Ya Legg. Previously released as a 10' now expanded to a full length including four unreleased tracks.

Limited to 500 Vinyl Only Copies, 2LP Gatefold+ CD included (not available separately)

Nonesuch Records releases Let X=X, by Laurie Anderson with Sexmob. This triple-LP/double-CD set was recorded live during a 2023 tour by Anderson and the jazz band Sexmob – Steven Bernstein and Briggan Krauss on brass, Kenny Wollesen on percussion, Douglas Wieselman on winds and guitar, and Tony Scherr on bass. Its cover and interior packaging feature paintings by Anderson. The album features 23 songs, including many favourites from throughout Anderson’s career, performed in new arrangements – plus one by Lou Reed and Metallica, ‘Junior Dad’. Anderson and Sexmob play more US and international dates this spring and summer (details below).

The New York Times said Anderson and Sexmob’s concert at the Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) ‘wasn’t a historical recreation of past recordings; Sexmob’s sound is a beefier one than on Anderson’s albums. With musicians who can double on electric guitar and bass clarinet, its members offered a rich range of textural variation throughout the evening.’

Laurie Anderson is one of America’s most renowned – and daring – creative pioneers. Her work, which encompasses music, visual art, poetry, film, and photography, has challenged and delighted audiences around the world for more than 40 years. In a recent 60 Minutes profile, Anderson Cooper said she ‘is a pioneer of the avant-garde, but... that doesn’t begin to describe what she creates... It’s experienced by audiences who come to see her perform: singing, telling stories, and playing strange violins of her own invention... she blends the beautiful and the bizarre, challenging audiences with homilies and humor. She blurs boundaries across music, theater, dance, and film.’ The Washington Post has said she ‘doesn’t just tell stories; she draws out every word with a kind of physical pleasure, tasting its flavor as she probes the everyday mysteries of life.’

Anderson released her first album with Nonesuch Records, the critically lauded Life on a String, in 2001. Her subsequent releases on the label include Live in New York (2002); Homeland (2010); the soundtrack to her acclaimed film Heart of a Dog (2015); and her Grammy-winning collaboration with Kronos Quartet, Landfall (2018). Nonesuch released a re-mastered edition of Big Science in 2007 for its 25th anniversary, followed by a vinyl LP re-issue in 2021; the album includes Anderson’s beloved, surprise hit, song, ‘O Superman’, which also is featured on Let X=X. Her recent Nonesuch release was 2024’s Amelia, about renowned female aviator Amelia Earhart’s tragic last flight.

Anderson’s virtual-reality film La Camera Insabbiata, with Hsin-Chien Huang, won the 2017 Venice Film Festival Award for Best VR Experience, and, in 2018, Skira Rizzoli published her book All the Things I Lost in the Flood: Essays on Pictures, Language and Code, the most comprehensive collection of her artwork to date. Recent exhibitions and installations of Anderson’s work include Habeas Corpus at New York’s Park Avenue Armory; her largest exhibition to date, The Weather, at Washington, DC’s Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum of Modern Art; and Looking into a Mirror Sideways at Stockholm’s Moderna Museet, which was her largest European exhibition to date.

Laurie Anderson was awarded the 2024 Stephen Hawking Medal for Science Communication, along with Christopher Nolan and David Attenborough, and the International Astronomical Union named a minor planet in her honour: Asteroid 270588, Laurieanderson. That same year, she was awarded a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award.

Der Mittlere Westen, insbesondere der Teil, aus dem Eric D. Johnson stammt, ist eine weitgehend flache Weite. Wenn man auf der Autobahn hindurchbraust, sieht man Städte und Ortschaften in der Ferne aufragen, doch wenn man blinzelt, verpasst man andere von Menschenhand geschaffene Gegenstücke zum Leben in der Ebene, die die Landschaft prägen: Hügel um Hügel, erbaut aus den Abfällen der Vergangenheit: Mülldeponien. Einige dieser Hügel eignen sich hervorragend als Schlittenhügel, Parks und Wanderwege. Andere verwandeln organische Abfälle in Kompost. ,The Landfill" ist etwas ganz anderes: ein Berg, der die Landschaft in Johnsons Herzen dominiert. Im Laufe seiner mittlerweile 25-jährigen Karriere unter dem Namen Fruit Bats war der Großteil von Eric D. Johnsons Schaffen das Ergebnis von Geduld und Feinschliff. Seine Songs sind, um einen Ausdruck zu verwenden, Langzeitprojekte, die auf Alben zum Leben erweckt werden, welche lange Zeiträume und Erinnerungen umfassen. "Baby Man" änderte das - er verbot sich, auf Material zurückzugreifen, an dem er vor der Aufnahme des Albums gearbeitet hatte. Es war sowohl ein atemberaubendes Dokument von Johnsons Können als Singer-Songwriter als auch ein ungeschönter Bericht über die zwei Wochen, in denen er das Album aufnahm. "Diese Session war vorbei", erklärt er, "aber es gab noch viel mehr zu erkunden. Mir gefiel die Unmittelbarkeit davon, und ich wollte sehen, wie sich das auf ein Fruit-Bats-Album mit voller Bandbesetzung übertragen lassen würde." Innerhalb weniger Wochen war er wieder im Studio, diesmal mit seiner Band: David Dawda (Bass), Josh Mease (Gitarren, Synthesizer), Frank LoCrasto (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Kosta Galanopoulos (Schlagzeug). Wenn man sich "The Landfill" anhört, stellt man fest: Diese Band rockt. Johnson produzierte die ersten Aufnahmesessions in den Bear Creek Studios in Washington und machte sich daran , "den Sound dieser Band einzufangen, die mich immer wieder in Staunen versetzt - das Gefühl, in einem Raum mit Musikern zu sein, die man liebt und denen man genug vertraut, um sie einfach machen zu lassen." Sie nahmen das meiste davon in einem Durchgang auf - ohne Click-Tracks, ohne zusammengestellte Gesangsparts und mit minimalen Overdubs, wobei der häufige Mitwirkende Thom Monahan zurückkehrte, um zusätzliche Produktionsarbeit zu leisten und den finalen Mix von ,The Landfill" zu erstellen. "So machen wir es auch mit meiner anderen Band, Bonny Light Horseman, und ich war neugierig, wie es bei den Fruit Bats funktionieren würde", bemerkt Johnson. "Es ist sowohl ein sehr persönliches Album als auch mein bisher kollaborativstes." Es ist zudem das live-orientierteste Album der Fruit Bats seit "The Ruminant Band" aus dem Jahr 2009, und durch die Reduzierung der Spuren, die einen Song einer kompletten Band normalerweise ausmachen, ist die psychedelische, technicolorartige Verträumtheit ihres Sounds lebendiger denn je. Die Songs auf "The Landfill" zeichnen sich sofort als einige der besten in Eric D. Johnsons Werk aus, Suchende und Hymnen gleichermaßen. Es ist der bisher gewaltigste Gipfel, den er erklommen hat.

Der Mittlere Westen, insbesondere der Teil, aus dem Eric D. Johnson stammt, ist eine weitgehend flache Weite. Wenn man auf der Autobahn hindurchbraust, sieht man Städte und Ortschaften in der Ferne aufragen, doch wenn man blinzelt, verpasst man andere von Menschenhand geschaffene Gegenstücke zum Leben in der Ebene, die die Landschaft prägen: Hügel um Hügel, erbaut aus den Abfällen der Vergangenheit: Mülldeponien. Einige dieser Hügel eignen sich hervorragend als Schlittenhügel, Parks und Wanderwege. Andere verwandeln organische Abfälle in Kompost. ,The Landfill" ist etwas ganz anderes: ein Berg, der die Landschaft in Johnsons Herzen dominiert. Im Laufe seiner mittlerweile 25-jährigen Karriere unter dem Namen Fruit Bats war der Großteil von Eric D. Johnsons Schaffen das Ergebnis von Geduld und Feinschliff. Seine Songs sind, um einen Ausdruck zu verwenden, Langzeitprojekte, die auf Alben zum Leben erweckt werden, welche lange Zeiträume und Erinnerungen umfassen. "Baby Man" änderte das - er verbot sich, auf Material zurückzugreifen, an dem er vor der Aufnahme des Albums gearbeitet hatte. Es war sowohl ein atemberaubendes Dokument von Johnsons Können als Singer-Songwriter als auch ein ungeschönter Bericht über die zwei Wochen, in denen er das Album aufnahm. "Diese Session war vorbei", erklärt er, "aber es gab noch viel mehr zu erkunden. Mir gefiel die Unmittelbarkeit davon, und ich wollte sehen, wie sich das auf ein Fruit-Bats-Album mit voller Bandbesetzung übertragen lassen würde." Innerhalb weniger Wochen war er wieder im Studio, diesmal mit seiner Band: David Dawda (Bass), Josh Mease (Gitarren, Synthesizer), Frank LoCrasto (Klavier, Synthesizer) und Kosta Galanopoulos (Schlagzeug). Wenn man sich "The Landfill" anhört, stellt man fest: Diese Band rockt. Johnson produzierte die ersten Aufnahmesessions in den Bear Creek Studios in Washington und machte sich daran , "den Sound dieser Band einzufangen, die mich immer wieder in Staunen versetzt - das Gefühl, in einem Raum mit Musikern zu sein, die man liebt und denen man genug vertraut, um sie einfach machen zu lassen." Sie nahmen das meiste davon in einem Durchgang auf - ohne Click-Tracks, ohne zusammengestellte Gesangsparts und mit minimalen Overdubs, wobei der häufige Mitwirkende Thom Monahan zurückkehrte, um zusätzliche Produktionsarbeit zu leisten und den finalen Mix von ,The Landfill" zu erstellen. "So machen wir es auch mit meiner anderen Band, Bonny Light Horseman, und ich war neugierig, wie es bei den Fruit Bats funktionieren würde", bemerkt Johnson. "Es ist sowohl ein sehr persönliches Album als auch mein bisher kollaborativstes." Es ist zudem das live-orientierteste Album der Fruit Bats seit "The Ruminant Band" aus dem Jahr 2009, und durch die Reduzierung der Spuren, die einen Song einer kompletten Band normalerweise ausmachen, ist die psychedelische, technicolorartige Verträumtheit ihres Sounds lebendiger denn je. Die Songs auf "The Landfill" zeichnen sich sofort als einige der besten in Eric D. Johnsons Werk aus, Suchende und Hymnen gleichermaßen. Es ist der bisher gewaltigste Gipfel, den er erklommen hat.

Featuring: Coby Sey, Mica Levi and Mark Pell (Good Sad Happy Bad / Micachu & The Shapes)

‘Affectionately’ is the debut album by London based songwriter and musician Raisa K. With self produced instrumentals supporting Raisa’s signature vocal performance, the record delves into the intricate emotional cycles of relationships with heartfelt sincerity. Melodies appear simple and direct, while the themes explored present a great level of complexity. Whether about trust, kindness, doubt, frustration, annoyance, regret, honesty, insecurity, loneliness or friendship, each of the album’s twelve songs lie somewhere in between a diary and a letter.‘Affectionately’ is almost entirely produced on Raisa’s laptop and written in her home in London, as well as finding small pockets of time on trains and buses, during breaks at work, during the kids' nap-times, at the playground, in the park. The production's backbone is formed by a synthesiser sample, weaving together a range of recordings and sonic textures.

This creates a consistent expression where diverse electronic styles merge with Raisa's crisp, candid vocals in unique and personal songwriting. Some listeners might recognise Raisa’s voice and musical language from records by the band Good Sad Happy Bad, which she is a part of. While ‘Affectionately’ certainly moves in its own space, a kinship with fellow London artists is also present, as the record includes a feature with Coby Sey as well as instrumental contributions from long-time collaborators Marc Pell and Mica Levi.

Welcome to 'Instrumental Dubs #3', the ongoing series that delves into the world of the Dub Version and beyond. Side one explores the axis of UK Street Soul and Reggae with the opening two tracks produced by Howard Hill and originally released on his Passion Enterprises label in the late eighties. Both 'Versions' have a machine lead rhythm section paired with a reggae skank and snippets of soulful vox. The Proto House of Protek's 'I Love to Dance With You' featured on a Jura Soundsystem DJ Mix for Planet Trip, a one off single from the now sadly deceased Errol Parkes that's been re-edited with love by The Nightlark from Edinburgh.

The B side features The Cool Notes 'Natural Energy', which isn't strictly speaking a Dub Version, but it has that vibe with a primarily instrumental backing track featuring sparse vocals and spacey FX. The album closes with a secret weapon of Ilija Rudman 'Dub 4 Love' that pays homage to a famous track from Acid House's heyday.

Pressed on 180g Heavyweight Vinyl with full sleeve jacket design by Bradley Pinkerton.

29 Speedway is a record label and performance series based in Brooklyn, NY featuring forward-thinking improvisational music and live multimedia. Founded in 2020 by Ben Shirken a.k.a. Ex Wiish (‘Shards Of Axel’, Incienso 2023), 29S serves as a platform for artists exploring the fringes of interdisciplinary art and music. Hosting D.I.Y-guerrilla style sound and performance art concerts at Pioneer Works (NYC), Public Records, and in Europe in partnership with Index Records, they have worked with artists such as James Hoff, J. Albert, Yolabmi, Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, AceMo, Flora Yin Wong, Nexcyia, Young Boy Dancing Group, UMFANG, Color Plus, Poncili Creación, Special Guest DJ, Arushi Jain, Drumloop, Isabella Koen, Ben Bondy, Kamran Sadeghi, Yawning Portal, James K., Syndey Spann, Debit, Pent and many others.

Resident Advisor called their most recent compilation record ‘Channel Plus’ “one of the most stunning documents of the ‘modern ambient-techno movement pioneered by labels such as Motion Ward and West Mineral’, with a focus on New York as well as a global outreach that encompasses chilled-out trap, electro, downtempo and even early '00s electroacoustic music”. Their debut solo artist release from J. Albert and Will August Park, entitled “Flat Earth” (2023), was based on free improvisation and ambient jazz, receiving praise from Philip Sherburne, Shawn Reynaldo, and was included in RYMs top EPs of the year. 29S has been written about on ID, Bandcamp Daily: Best Ambient, Boomkat, Paper Mag, Artnet, Dazed, Clot Mag, Nina Protocol, and Document Journal.

The newest release from 29 Speedway, UltraBody, is a compilation record featuring the music of Jake Muir, Pent & Dylan Kerr, Nexcyia & Mu Tate, James K, Flora Yin-Wong, Ex Wiish & Dorothy Carlos, Kamran Sadeghi, Tati au Miel, James Hoff, Eric Frye, Muein and Maxwell Sterling. The record is emblematic of the artists who have performed at 29 Speedway shows in New York and Europe during the past two years, and is the third in a series released by the label.

The record was born out of a desire to investiage how the self, spirituality, and language are intertwined with the intervention of subjectivity by new technologies. With increasingly sophisticated tech, and the supposed ability to remake the world and ourselves, what differentiates our individual discretion from the will imposed upon us by software? Quoting Walter Chaw from his piece on David Cronenberg’s Videodrome, “Decades of rampant, unregulated and ill-considered technological leaps have begun to evolve, to mutate, humans at a biological level”. This haphazard acceleration towards a techno-utopic transformation of humanity has faulted, and as William Gibson put it, is leading us to live in a “half assed singularity”. In this reality, artistic processes are influenced by excessive access to computational tools and assistance, but not utterly controlled.

This in-between state of dominion is explored in 29 Speedway: UltraBody. “Incoherences” samples the utterances of Dylan Kerr’s voice processed between Pent’s percolated glazes, muddying the gulf between vaporous ambient and reflexive sound design. The voice on James Hoff’s “A... ...Cha.... A... I feel l” was created by trying to get voice cloning technology to sing a gps data stream, the music an extrapolation from an earworm he got stuck in his head while shopping in Kyoto. On “Plogue Chain”, Eric Frye’s most speculative sci-fi observations spiral into a glazed pool of digital cacophony, while Kamran Sadeghi’s “Formula Fiction” is an experiment in (un)controlled generativity. Incorporating minimal pings from a 3D simulation scene based on gravitational interaction, cello bits evolve on “Assimilation”, a collaboration between Ex Wiish & Dorothy Carlos.

On UltraBody, sound has no separate existence from space.

Jazz music has more than its fair share of overshadowed figures that whilst contributing much to the music have little presence in its collective conscious. One such musician is the talented multi-reedist, Sahib Shihab. Born Edmond Gregory, as he was known before he adopted the Muslim faith in 1946, Sahib Shihab's music background shows a deep and significant evolution, influenced by Thelonious Monk, Dizzie Gillespie (his experience in Dizzie's band marked Sahib's switch to Baritone, the instrument he became most readily associated with), and above all by Charlie Parker's Bop. Had it not been for the post-war migration of many top American jazz musicians to Europe, it is quite likely that the legendary Clarke-Boland Big Band might never come into existence. Sahib, one of this musicians disillusioned with the politics and racism of the United States, accepted to join the band of Quincy Jones for an European tour in 1959. When the tour ended, Shihab he remained in Europe where he joined, in 1961, the Clarke-Boland Big Band. The collection 'Companionship', whose line up consists of seven elements which derives from this original band, spotlights the consummate musicianship and individuality of Sahib Shihab and is testimony to his special musical gifts - not only as a top-rank flautist and baritone saxophone but also as a composer. Furthermore, it provides a welcome reminder of the high quality of the Clarke-Boland Big Band's rhythm section, the lively style of vibraphonist Fats Sadi and the power and personality of two of the C-BBB's horn-playing stalwarts, Benny Bailey and Ake Persson. Here's a real rarity, surely a desert island disc. This double album has it all from frantic banging percussive workouts to modal numbers to beautiful ballads. It's a staggeringly good piece of music and worth every penny of the price tag it commands. Let's have a look to the most significant pieces. Francy Boland's "Om Mani Padme Hum", taken from a Tibetan prayer, shows Shihab in exuberant mood, playing against a vigorous percussion background and making dramatic use of his special technique of combining voice and flute. Boland contributes an incisive, effervescent solo. "Bohemia After Dark", a classic original by bassist Oscar Pettiford which he first recorded back in August 1955, finds Shihab in exultant form on baritone. "Companionship" has a Bossa Nova beat and features Bailey on flugelhorn and Shihab on flute, playing with a limpid, floating sound. Bailey's minor-key original, "Stoned Ghosts" was, he says, inspired by listening to some music written by Bela Bartok before he emigrated to the United States. The piece has an infectious back-beat pulse and showcases the superb walking technique of Jimmy Woode. In "Con Alma" Shihab's mellow flute set against a churning 12/8 beat in this stylish Boland arrangement. Woode's performance of the superb Mei Torme ballad, "Born To Be Blue", reveals his great affection for the song. "lt is the perfect combination," he says, "a beautiful melody married to a great lyric. I really love that tune." It is a song of rueful resignation, putting a brave face on the blues. "Balafon" is an up-tempo Francy Boland original written for the French mime artist, Marcel Marceau. The rhythm section really cooks on this track with Kenny Clarke's cymbal work outstanding. Boland's solo here is notable for its neat, left hand punctuations. "Calypso Blues" has been written by Nat King Cole and Don George. lt tells the wry and wistful tale of a Trinidadian in New York desperately homesick for the land where everything 5 so much cheaper (in New York "a dollar buy, a cup of coffee and a ham on rye") and the girls more natural than the artificial, painted beauties of New York. Woode's composition, "Sconsolato" is a haunting theme in A minor and it brings to a close a truly fascinating album. This is dynamic music played with vigour, verve and vitality - and it is an enormous pleasure to rediscover it. A shadowy fugitive from his home in the land of jazz, Sahib Shihab remains a true unsung figure, worthy of more attention. With his equally expert technique on Baritone, Flute, Alto and Soprano saxophones and his capacity to adapt easily to a variety of musical settings. His warm, individual, singsong sound in improvisation and his unusual and interesting compositions mark him out as a hidden treasure in the dusty corners of jazz archive.

Alice Kemp is a British artist working with noise, performance, fetish objects, installation and many other forms of media. Throughout her work, she articulates a broken and illogical syntax of the subconscious through trance states, dreams, and disturbances. She has performed extensively, occasionally as an associate to the Schimpfluch-Gruppe of Swiss extreme aktionists.

It is a rarified violence that the Kemp invokes on her 9 Dreams In Erotic Mourning. Something disfigured. Something fucked. Something left behind. The subject matter of her investigations are deliberately inscrutable as she grotesquely amplifies a moment of terror, or fear, of sadness through pockets of piano melodies broken by psychoacoustic noise, razor-cut silence, ghastly vocalizations, crushed acts of physical aggression, and buckets of high-pressure suspense. Cryptic and oblique by design Kemp's work reads perhaps as a seance gone awry, certainly as private ritual made public, and as a transfiguration of literary body horror turned into a sonic nightmare that runs parallel to the works of Rudolf Eb.Er, Puce Mary, Sewer Election, and Luc Ferrari.

9 Dreams In Erotic Mourning was originally published as part of the instantly out of print boxset, On Corrosion - a 10 cassette anthology from 2019 that was housed in a handcrafted wooden box and featuring full albums from Kleistwahr, Neutral, Pinkcourtesyphone, Alice Kemp, She Spread Sorrow, G*Park, Relay For Death, Francisco Meirino, Fossil Aerosol Mining Project, and Himukalt. The collection also stood as the 50th release for The Helen Scarsdale Agency.

Limited repress of the white vinyl pressing. Includes unlimited streaming of all digital tracks from Arlo Parks' first and second EP's, PLUS a free spoken word poem 'London' only available with Vinyl purchase. The artwork sleeve is reverse board black - and includes the 'London' poem written by Arlo Parks. Artwork sleeve both front and back created by Arlo Parks. Includes Sophie.”Sophie' is a song about "crumbling under expectations and feeling helpless, but with a persistent, quiet sense of hope underpinning it”. True to form, it's a melodic and beautifully articulated sonnet, cementing the notion that she is overwhelmingly considered the majestic voice of Generation Z

There’s a lot for MAYDAY PARADE to celebrate these days. The T allahassee, Florida-formed quintet recently
wrapped a career-defining tour marking two decades together, one that saw more than 70,000 fans pack sold-out venues to celebrate their storied catalog. They performed a triumphant main-stage set at the 30th anniversary of the V ans W arped T our, a full-circle moment for a band that made their name selling self-released CDs in those same sweltering parking lots nearly 20 years ago. Their landmark debut LP, A Lesson In Romantics, turned 18, still beloved for its iconic singles like the platinum-certified “Jamie All Over” and gold-certified “Miserable At Best.” And the group released Sweet, the first in a self-released three-album series that reaffirmed just how vital and creatively energized Mayday Parade still remains. Now, on Sad, the second installment in that trilogy, the band continue diving deeper into the emotional nuance that’s defined their most captivating albums, blending aching sentimentality with melodic urgency as only they can. Once again produced by longtime collaborators Zack Odom and Kenneth Mount, Sad sees Mayday Parade stripping back some of the tempo that colored Sweet in favor of more deliberate grooves, more introspection, and a sharpened focus on mood and space.

"Pop" is a tag that's been assigned to Minus The Bear throughout their career. It's been used to set a distinction between the unique brand of complex indie rock they introduced on their first EP and the more angular and aggravated sounds of their previous bands Botch, Kill Sadie, and Sharks Keep Moving. It's also a tag that was thrown around frequently in the wake of their streamlined fourth album, OMNI. And it's a descriptor that immediately comes to mind within the first few seconds of their classic second formal EP, They Make Beer Commercials Like This. Now celebrating its 10-year anniversary and first time in print since 2011, Beer Commercials is the evolutionary step between Minus The Bear's first two landmark albums, Highly Refined Pirates and Menos El Oso. Opening track "Fine + 2 Points" remains one of the band's strongest opening tracks in their discography,charging out of the gates with a syncopated stomp that comes across as a more agitated take on Kylie Minogue's "Can't Get You Outta My Head". If Minus The Bear were looking to make pop music without any of its major-scale bubblegum trappings, they nailed it here. The band follows it with "Let's Play Clowns" and "Dog Park" - nods to Highly Refined Pirates' formula of frenetic clean guitar work, bombastic choruses, and Jake Snider's lyrics of detached romantic nostalgia. These tracks may represent Minus The Bear's original trademark version of pop, but on songs like "I'm Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien" the band eschews it's restless energy for atmosphere and dynamics, creating a sound that's inspired more than a handful of contemporary melodic post-rock bands. By the time the band belts out "Pony Up!" the listener has watched the three-year sonic transition between Minus The Bear's first two full-lengths transpire within under half-an-hour, with the their earlier math rock predilections yielding to the tightly wound club-banging pedalboard trickery that defined their sophomore album. Even if Beer Commercials doesn't fit within your definition of pop music, the unorthodox energetic charm of this relatively low-profile release serves as an exciting reminder of why Minus The Bear became one of the most important and influential indie rock bands of the new century.

Come on down to Planet Weekend amusement park and lose yourself in a world of excitement, where every day feels like the weekend!

Why not forget your sad and relentless existence, find another life in the ‘Arcade Cave’ or grab a snack at the ‘Cheesey Bacon Buffet Beef Palace’, before exploring the plethora of brand new (and definitely safe!!!) attractions that are waiting for you?! C’mon already!

So cancel that plan, quit your job and come and live another life at Planet Weekend!

Ria Moran steps into a bold new chapter with Cubico, her debut solo album set for release in July 2025 via DeepMatter Records. A deeply personal and sonically rich project, Cubico sees Ria stepping forward as a producer and instrumentalist, blending R&B, neo-soul, and jazz with introspective songwriting that explores love, self-discovery, and emotional growth. The 12-track album moves fluidly between smooth R&B grooves and darker alternative tones, embodying the full spectrum of her artistry—sweet, emotional, moody, quirky, and fun. Ria made her long-awaited return in November 2024 with Take It or Leave It, a collaboration with Nubiyan Twist that showcased her evolving artistry and set the stage for Cubico and finding support from BBC Radio 6, Radio 1, Rinse Fm, Jazz FM, Worldwide FM, and more. Prior to this, her 2019 EP Moving into the Light gained widespread recognition from BBC Introducing, BBC Radio 6, and Worldwide FM, placing her among the UK’s most exciting contemporary soul voices. Her music sits at the juncture of forward-thinking UK soul music and nu-jazz, placing her alongside contemporaries including Ego Ella May, Yazmin Lacey and Cleo Sol, whilst also nodding to pioneers like Sade and Erykah Badu. Beyond her solo work, Ria has built an impressive career as a collaborator. Her contributions to Nubiyan Twist’s Freedom Fables earned a MOBO Award nomination, and she later appeared on Blue Note Records’ Blue Note Re:Imagined series, performing a BBC Radio 2 live session at the legendary Maida Vale Studios. She also worked with bassist Daniel Casimir on his acclaimed Boxed In album, joining a roster of UK jazz heavyweights including Nubya Garcia and Moses Boyd. Since 2019, she has been a touring vocalist with Gotts Street Park, sharing stages with Celeste, ENNY, and Pip Millett. With Cubico, Ria Moran is fully stepping into her own as an artist, delivering a debut album that is as raw as it is soulful, as vulnerable as it is empowering—a must-hear for fans of innovative and heartfelt music..

Nach dem explosiven, schnörkellosen, selbstbetitelten Debütalbum aus dem letzten Jahr meldet sich das potente Duo mit ihrem zweiten Album 'Bored Animal' zurück.

Es wurde in weniger als zwei Wochen im Studio von Edwyn Collins in den schottischen Highlands konzipiert und aufgenommen, zusammen mit dem Tontechniker Sean Reed. Abgemischt wurde es von David Wrench (Manic Street Preachers, Let's Eat Grandma, Blur, Baxter Dury). His Lordship entschieden sich, ihren Sound zu straffen: Sie verzichteten auf Harmonien, Rockabilly-Einflüsse und Songs mit einer Länge von mehr als vier Minuten und kümmerten sich nicht darum, die Musik perfekt zu machen.

Das Ergebnis ist ein Album, das eine Vielzahl von Ideen in seine elf prägnanten Songs packt. Und obwohl die Songs von 'Bored Animal' Anleihen beim alten Rock ’n‘ Roll nehmen, ist das Album keineswegs ein Retro-Aufguss oder eine Hommage an die Vergangenheit.

The promise of a Florry show, a now familiar caravan that has been honed over ambitiously trekked zig zags across America and Europe since the release of Dear Life Records debut The Holey Bible, is the redemptive promise and prodigal joy of rock and roll guitar music. Bred in the crackling warmth of the Philadelphia DIY scene, and forged with the alloys of community action, queer liberation and bedroom poetry, bandleader Francie Medosch and her absolute unit of collaborators have put in the work of sharpening their homespun tools to take up the mantle of the great lip-puckering rock and roll tradition pioneered by the likes of The Band and the Rolling Stones, but with proudly displayed Aimee Mann and Yo La Tengo bumper stickers on the rusty frame of the truck. At any second, the wheels could come off but they are steering just fine. For 'Sounds Like' Florry's sophomore effort as a fully realized band, Medosch and co. decamped to Drop of Sun studios in the nest of the Blue Ridge Mountains to record with Asheville wunderkind Colin Miller, a critical voice behind the records of MJ Lenderman, Wednesday and Merce Lemon and a powerful songwriter in his own right. Three powerhouse days in late 2023 solidified writing work done by the band earlier that summer in the now defunct Haw Creek compound under Miller's guiding suggestion. The result is a portrait of a ripping band cresting towards the height of their powers, uniquely equipped to capture a wildly loving, barn-burning camcorder clip of a turbulent trip with your best friends, without dipping into nostalgia bait. Lyrically, Medosch's utterances are both careful and excessive, the product of sifting through the rubble of classic good-time media, and finding what works for both her and her community to reach the heights of abandon. "The Jackass theme song was actually a really big influence on the new album" The expansive personnel and continent spanning footprint of Florry casts a wide net for this community. Florry the band rolls deep in the heard of North American DIY, featuring Jon Cox (Sadurn, Son of Barb) on pedal steel, John Murray on electric guitar, Collin Dennen on bass, Will Henriksen on fiddle, Katya Malison (Doll Spirit Vessel) on Vox, and Joey Sullivan (Bark Culture) on drums. Medosch's recent move to Burlington Vermont entrenches the Philly born project firmly within the ranks of fellow alt-country upstarts Lily Seabird and Greg Freeman, and gives them a vantage just outside of Pennsylvania at the thresholds of New England and the Midwest. There is a new life breathed into this music that confirms Florry as equally rooted in place work, and at home on the vast roads of America. For listeners who fell in love with Florry's infectious charm on sweeping tours with the likes of Kurt Vile, Real Estate, MJ Lenderman, Greg Freeman and Fust, 'Sounds Like', provides a refreshing memento of the band that surely left them smiling. If the support behind 'The Holey Bible' provided validation for the insistent vision of these young artists, 'Sounds Like' finds them reveling in and honing their vocabulary. Praise from outlets like Pitchfork, Stereogum, Paste, and Brooklyn Vegan touched on the potential of their wild idiosyncrasies, and accurately predicted that their next steps would see them continuing to write their own story, like a 10 car pileup that you can't take your eyes off if you tried. Florry proves that they can let the car spin just out of control whenever they want, and you are welcome to ride shotgun while Medosch does donuts in the WaWa parking lot. The ceiling, it turns out, is truly the roof.

The promise of a Florry show, a now familiar caravan that has been honed over ambitiously trekked zig zags across America and Europe since the release of Dear Life Records debut The Holey Bible, is the redemptive promise and prodigal joy of rock and roll guitar music. Bred in the crackling warmth of the Philadelphia DIY scene, and forged with the alloys of community action, queer liberation and bedroom poetry, bandleader Francie Medosch and her absolute unit of collaborators have put in the work of sharpening their homespun tools to take up the mantle of the great lip-puckering rock and roll tradition pioneered by the likes of The Band and the Rolling Stones, but with proudly displayed Aimee Mann and Yo La Tengo bumper stickers on the rusty frame of the truck. At any second, the wheels could come off but they are steering just fine. For 'Sounds Like' Florry's sophomore effort as a fully realized band, Medosch and co. decamped to Drop of Sun studios in the nest of the Blue Ridge Mountains to record with Asheville wunderkind Colin Miller, a critical voice behind the records of MJ Lenderman, Wednesday and Merce Lemon and a powerful songwriter in his own right. Three powerhouse days in late 2023 solidified writing work done by the band earlier that summer in the now defunct Haw Creek compound under Miller's guiding suggestion. The result is a portrait of a ripping band cresting towards the height of their powers, uniquely equipped to capture a wildly loving, barn-burning camcorder clip of a turbulent trip with your best friends, without dipping into nostalgia bait. Lyrically, Medosch's utterances are both careful and excessive, the product of sifting through the rubble of classic good-time media, and finding what works for both her and her community to reach the heights of abandon. "The Jackass theme song was actually a really big influence on the new album" The expansive personnel and continent spanning footprint of Florry casts a wide net for this community. Florry the band rolls deep in the heard of North American DIY, featuring Jon Cox (Sadurn, Son of Barb) on pedal steel, John Murray on electric guitar, Collin Dennen on bass, Will Henriksen on fiddle, Katya Malison (Doll Spirit Vessel) on Vox, and Joey Sullivan (Bark Culture) on drums. Medosch's recent move to Burlington Vermont entrenches the Philly born project firmly within the ranks of fellow alt-country upstarts Lily Seabird and Greg Freeman, and gives them a vantage just outside of Pennsylvania at the thresholds of New England and the Midwest. There is a new life breathed into this music that confirms Florry as equally rooted in place work, and at home on the vast roads of America. For listeners who fell in love with Florry's infectious charm on sweeping tours with the likes of Kurt Vile, Real Estate, MJ Lenderman, Greg Freeman and Fust, 'Sounds Like', provides a refreshing memento of the band that surely left them smiling. If the support behind 'The Holey Bible' provided validation for the insistent vision of these young artists, 'Sounds Like' finds them reveling in and honing their vocabulary. Praise from outlets like Pitchfork, Stereogum, Paste, and Brooklyn Vegan touched on the potential of their wild idiosyncrasies, and accurately predicted that their next steps would see them continuing to write their own story, like a 10 car pileup that you can't take your eyes off if you tried. Florry proves that they can let the car spin just out of control whenever they want, and you are welcome to ride shotgun while Medosch does donuts in the WaWa parking lot. The ceiling, it turns out, is truly the roof.

Dark Horse – „Dark Horse“ erschien im Dezember 1974 und krönte ein produktives Jahr für George Harrison, in dem er sein eigenes Plattenlabel Dark Horse gegründet, in seinem Haus im englischen Friar Park ein Aufnahmestudio eingerichtet und eine ehrgeizige Tournee durch Nordamerika absolviert hatte.

The Delights formerly unissued recording “Listen To Me Girl” first made it’s vinyl debut during 2017 when released back to back with Tearra’s modern soul anthem “Just Loving You” (SJ1008). Having sold out very quickly this release now commands a price of £60.00 a copy. So, with demand still high we have decided to release “Listen To Me Girl” for a second time with the addition of two recently found unissued master tape tracks, which make their vinyl debut as part of this 3 track EP.

The Delights story began in the early 1960’s while as a children’s group from Chester PA. known as ‘The Twilights’ they began entering local talent shows which culminated in a performance at Philadelphia’s prestigious ‘Uptown Theatre’ during 1963. ‘The Twilights’ made their professional recording debut in 1964 for Weldon McDougal III, Johnny Stiles and Luther Randolph’s Harthon Production’s label with “It’s Been So Long/She Put Me Down” (TW-34). A second Twilights 45 came in 1967 “Shipwreck/For The First Time” (TW-35) which sold sufficiently well to be picked up for national distribution by Cameo Parkway. The group consisted of four male vocalists, brothers Kemp “Toppy” Hill, Ellis “Butch” Hill (the eldest) and Jaime “Peanut” Hill and their friend Raymond, plus lead singer and only female member Brandi ‘Peaches’ Wells (born Marquerite J. Pinder) who was only 9 years old when she sang on the group’s first Harthon 45, (Jaime Hill reputedly never featured on either of the two Harthon 45 recordings).

The Hill Brothers were cousins of Manny Campbell and it’s through this family connection that the group came to Emandolynn Productions initially as backing singers before being persuaded by Manny to drop their former performing name of ‘The Twilights’, to become ‘The Delights’. Under Manny and fellow Philadelphian Charles J. Bowen’s tutelage they recorded the delightful crossover dance track “Listen To Me Girl” during the months of July and August of 1968. Recent unearthed master tape finds from these early sessions have since yielded the featured “Come And Rejoice” an energetic subtle gospel influenced dance track which Manny wrote and produced on them in the hope of giving them a wider body of work and appeal as he shopped their demos around local record companies. The original backing track to “Listen To Me” is also featured on this release.

During the mid-1970’s ‘The Delights’ under the tutelage of respected Philly producer, arranger and songwriter Morris Bailey Jr recorded two 45 releases for the Jamie/Guyden distributed Phil-L.A Of Soul label “It’s As Simple As That/I’ve Got Enough Sense” (PH-374) and “Face The Music/Things Ain’t What They Used To Be” (PH-379). Brandi Wells had left the group prior to the Phil-L.A Of Soul releases to firstly join Major Harris’s backing singers ‘Brown Sugar’ before forming the group ‘Breeze’ who backed fellow WMOT label stable mates Billy Paul, Fat Larry & Philly Cream (a.k.a Ingram). Breeze later evolved into the group Slick who recorded the self-named album which produced the chart hits “Space Bass” and “Sexy Cream”. In 1981 Brandi recorded her first solo debut album ‘Watch Out’ which reached #37 on the Billboard R&B Chart, her second solo album entitled “20TH Century Fox” followed in 1985 for the Omni label. She recorded the Butch Ingram penned “I Love You” 12” single for Butch’s Society Hill records in 1992. Sadly, Brandi Wells passed away in 2003 at the age of 47.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Nach einem Jahrzehnt, in dem die Band das Beste aus improvisierten Aufnahmeräumen in Lagerhäusern, Wohnwagen und Lofts gemacht hat, ist „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“, das vierte Album von Japanese Breakfast, die erste richtige Studioveröffentlichung der Band. Produziert von Grammy-Preisträger Blake Mills, zieht sich Frontfrau und Songschreiberin Michelle Zauner von der hellen Extrovertiertheit des Vorgängers „Jubilee“ zurück, um die dunkleren Wogen zu erforschen, die in ihrem Inneren aufgewühlt sind, das launische, fruchtbare Feld der Melancholie, das seit langem als der psychische Zustand von Dichtern am Rande der Inspiration gilt. Das Ergebnis ist eine künstlerische Absichtserklärung: ein reifes, komplexes, kontemplatives Werk, das den romantischen Nervenkitzel einer Gothic Novel heraufbeschwört. „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ folgt einer transformativen Periode in Zauners Leben, in der ihr zweifach GRAMMY-nominiertes Durchbruchsalbum ‚Jubilee‘ und ihre Bestseller-Memoiren ‚Crying In H Mart‘ sie in den kulturellen Mainstream katapultierten und ihre tiefsten künstlerischen Ambitionen erfüllten. Als sie über diesen Erfolg nachdachte, erkannte Zauner die Ironie der Sehnsucht, die so oft Glückseligkeit und Verderben miteinander verbindet. „Ich fühlte mich verführt, das zu bekommen, was ich immer wollte“, sagt sie. „Ich flog zu nah an die Sonne heran, und mir wurde klar, dass ich sterben würde, wenn ich weiterflöge“. Das Schicksal von Ikarus und anderen Verdammten verleiht „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ sein beständigstes Thema: die Gefahren des Begehrens. Wie zerstreutes Licht führen seine spektralen Teile die Charaktere des Albums durch Zyklen von Versuchung, Übertretung und Vergeltung. In „Orlando in Love“ - ein Riff auf John Cheevers Riff auf „Orlando Innamorato“, einem unvollendeten Epos, das aus 68 Cantos des Renaissance-Dichters Matteo Maria Boiardo besteht - ist der Held ein gutmütiger Dichter, der sein Winnebago am Meer parkt und dem Ruf einer Sirene zum Opfer fällt, seinem 69. Canto (selbst im erhabenen Reich des klassischen Mythos hat Zauner ein Faible für Anspielungen). „Honey Water“ lotet die stille Wut einer Frau aus, die mit einem untreuen Mann verheiratet ist und zusieht, wie er immer wieder der Lust nachgibt wie ein niederes Insekt, das seinen eigenen Untergang herbeiführt Traurigkeit ist in der Tat die dominierende emotionale Tonart dieser Platte, aber es ist eine Traurigkeit der besonderen Art: die nachdenkliche, vorausschauende Traurigkeit der Melancholie, in der die Erkenntnis des im Wesentlichen tragischen Charakters des Lebens mit Sensibilität für seine flüchtige Schönheit einhergeht. Zauner findet in ihr genügend Raum für Hoffnungsschimmer. Es sind die Tröstungen der Sterblichen, die Dichter vor ihr gerufen haben und die Dichter nach ihr immer wieder neu entdecken werden: Liebe und Arbeit, und obwohl sie sich wie stärkende Vorsätze durch die vielen Episoden des Albums ziehen, erklingen sie am deutlichsten im letzten Song, „Magic Mountain“, einer Auseinandersetzung mit Thomas Manns berühmtem gleichnamigen Roman. Für sie fühlt sich jede Arbeit wie das Erklimmen eines Berges an, aber von der Spitze von „For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)“ aus blickt sie in die Zukunft.

The last couple of years have seen a renaissance for West Coast singer-songwriters. LA-based youngsters such as Drugdealer and Sylvie have attracted considerable attention releasing warm and mellow records tonally reminiscent of the early 70s. Most fans of this new/old sound are unaware of Bart Davenport's early explorations in the same sonic territory. His now 20-year-old "Game Preserve"album should gain an appreciative new audience with its first ever vinyl release.

In the year 2000, Bay Area troubadour Bart Davenport and several other musicians were recruited by a major tech corporation in Seattle to work on an algorithm-based music matching/search engine. It was what looked like the beginning of a promising career. After a year, however, the project was shelved. Bart and his colleagues were laid off with a healthy severance package... on the 12th of September, 2001. Not only had the musician's life changed, so had the world. Rather than blow the money on a holiday or new car, Bart knew he had to make a record. A proper album that meant something.

Back in Oakland, he entered Wally Sound Studios with former Kinetics bandmate Jon Erickson at the controls, and a swathe of talented local musicians. "With Game Preserve," Bart explains, "Jon and I really wanted to knock it out of the park. I wanted to utilize people from my old bands like Loved Ones drummer John Kent. I also invited my newer indie-pop friends from Call & Response, and a young Nedelle Torrisi. Harmony singing by The Moore Brothers was an essential ingredient on Game Preserve as well."

Both Erickson and Davenport fondly recall growing up in households where the music of The Carpenters, Joni Mitchell and The Eagles soundtracked their young lives. By the early 00s they were ready to reconnect with what is often referred to as the "Laurel Canyon" sound. "I'd buy used tapes at garage sales and play them in the car. "Ladies Of The Canyon" by Joni and Jackson Browne's first album were both in heavy rotation. Jon Erickson was getting deeper into the Steely-Mac-Doobie yacht-rock sound in earnest. A certain amount of childhood nostalgia led a lot of us back to that part of the 70s. I'd flirted with classic soft-rock on my first album, but that record was pretty scattered esthetically. I wanted my next one to be more focused. Jon and I made some ground rules: no electric guitars (except on 'Bar-Code Trees'). No synths. Most importantly, all the songs have an air-tight, super dead, close mic'd drum sound. Putting these sorts of limitations on the sessions will give your record a specific quality. In the case of "Game Preserve"it's mostly about tight drums, acoustic instruments and analog production. We used a 24-track, two-inch tape machine for tracking, then ran the mixes through an analog board straight to a 1/4 inch master tape."

While the album's sonic palette may be firmly planted in 1970, Davenport's songwriting covers a sizable landscape of moods and reflections. From the quasi-flamenco intro of 'Sweetest Game' to the somber Wurlitzer of 'Nowhere Left To Go', to the 12-string shimmer of 'Intertwine', "Game Preserve" tells a story of young love, lost innocence and redemption, crossing borders and oceans along the way.

Released in 2003 on family-run Oakland label Antenna Farm, the ultra-analog sounding "Game Preserve" was only made available on digital formats, including CD. Copies were later pressed by labels in Germany and Spain; the latter being one country the album actually did well in, establishing Bart Davenport with a small but loyal fanbase he still enjoys today. Two European tours as support for Kings of Convenience also helped gain a foothold on the continent. Back in the US, however, Davenport and his sophomore album remained quite obscure.

Limited promotion meant it did little, but for the music lovers that heard it, the album undoubtedly remains a classic of the era, deserving far more. Twenty years on, it now finally receives its vinyl debut. "I personally think it holds up well," says Bart of the album two decades later. "The idea was to make something that could be an homage to late 60s/early 70s West Coast pop but hopefully timeless as well. Years on, I hear it as just that. It was a colorful and brief period of my life that felt at times like it could last forever. I discovered the joy of working in a proper studio with a perfect cast of characters. I'm still very close with all these people and still play music with many of them."

Zwölftes Volumen dieser grossartigen Erfolgs-Serie (und Stag-O-Lee Bestseller) mit entschleunigten R&B/Soul/Exotica Songs, so wie sie einmal im Monat in einem Club in Melbourne/Australia auf den Plattenteller kommen. Um Mitternacht am letzten Samstag jeden Monats versammeln sich jede Menge finstere Gestalten und vintage music lover in einem schlecht beleuchteten, mit Zigarettenqualm gefüllten Raum in Melbourne, um zu diesen slow grinding Tunes zu tanzen. Compiliert von SGF-Chef Ritchie1250, der auch für die Linernotes verantwortlich ist.

In their first bout of new music since 2022"s critically celebrated Mondays at Enfield Tennis Academy, Jeff Parker and his ETA IVtet find themselves exploring the depths of improvised jazz grooves on The Way Out of Easy. Featuring long time members Anna Butterss (Jason Isbell, SML) on upright bass, Josh Johnson (Meshell Ndegeocello, SML) on saxophone, and Jay Bellerose (Elton John, Punch Brothers), the selections are honed and focused to bring the atmosphere of one specific night"s setlist. The delight of the space (now sadly defunct) helped Parker build a beautifully multi-textured, gently-shifting four-dimensional construction out of simple ideas.

2024 Repress

Re-mastered from original stereo master tapes.

Limited edition 1000 copies.

180 gr vinyl pressed by Pallas in Germany.

Deluxe high-gloss flipback album jacket.

Facsimile reissue using the original cover art (front photo is lost).

Double insert using an original photo by JP Leloir from 1959.

Each record has been visually checked to prevent defects.

Recorded December 19 and 20, 1958 at the studio Hoche, Paris.

Original LP issue: Barclay 84.063.

Belgian jazz artist Bobby Jaspar died far too young at age 37 in 1963, but fortunately made a handful of memorable dates as a leader. This is the last studio session under his name. Jaspar sticks exclusively to flute on these December 1958 studio recordings. He’s joined by drummer Kenny Clarke, Sadi Lallemand or Michel Hausser (who also doubles on xylophone) on vibes, and either Paul Rovere or Jymie Merritt on bass, as well as percussionist Humberto Canto (on one of the two sessions). Jaspar’s soft arrangements prove very appealing for his originals, standards such as ‘Lullaby of the Leaves’ and ‘There Will Never Be Another You’, and classic jazz tunes (an exotic ‘Misterioso’ and a Latin-flavored ‘Chasin’ the Bird’, the latter featuring Hausser on xylophone). This is easily one of Jaspar’s finest recordings as a leader.

Ken Dryden / All Music

Bobby Jaspar (Flute)
Michel Hausser (Vibes) (tracks 1 to 4, 6,8,9)
Sadi Lallemand (Vibes) (tracks 5,7,10)
Paul Rovère (Bass) (tracks 1 to 4, 6,8,9)
Jymie Merritt (Bass) (tracks 5,7,10)
Humberto Canto (Percussion)
Kenny Clarke (Drums)

PRESENTED FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER ON VINYL AS A DOUBLE LP IN A GOLD VINYL PRESSING WITH A FOLD-OUT INSERT

As music fans know, James Brown wasn't just the greatest funk and soul singer the world has ever seen - he was also a musical visionary and businessman, who surrounded himself with geniuses who made him better and pushed him further. From horn masters Maceo Parker and Pee Wee Ellis to vocalists Lyn Collins and Bobby Byrd, Brown was a musical A & R master, restless and always looking for the next big thing. Most times, that would manifest in the latest James Brown smash under his own name. But not always. His stable of talent was overflowing in the 60s and 70s, and, thankfully, the tape machine in his studio was always rolling. Originally released in 1988, during the era of hip-hop's golden age of sampling, it's no surprise that just about every note heard in this incredible collection has been used on not one, but multiple rap classics. Which, at the time, was proof of Brown's (and his crew's) staying power. But we are over three decades beyond those days now, and it has lost none of its musical potency. Diving deeper into the vaults than the also-incredible Part 1 of the Funky People series, there is not a weak track in the bunch. Moving beyond well-known JBs cuts, things get interesting from the get-go with Bobby Byrd's monumental groove "I Know You Got Soul". Hank Ballard and Marva Whitney also enter the fray, leading the way to Myra Barnes's emotional and powerful "Message From The Soul Sisters (Parts 1 & 2)" and Lyn Collins's slow, smoldering cover of Isaac Haye's "Do Your Thing." Politics even get the funky soul treatment, with Fred Wesley & The JBs "You Can Have Watergate But Gimme Some Bucks And I'll Be Straight" and "I'm Paying Taxes, But What Am I Buying?" And it should not be overlooked that Maceo & The Macks instrumental workout "Soul Power ‘74" even features a proto-sampling snippet from MLK’s I’ve Been To The Mountaintop speech from 1968. This is another amazing collection of James Brown's funky friends, without one second of filler, brought to you as a glorious 2-LP gatefold by your friends at Get On Down.

Die in der Schweiz geborene Halb-Britin Kings Elliot ist ein offenes Buch für ihre Fans.
Bei ihr wurden eine Borderline-Persönlichkeitsstörung und Angstzustände diagnostiziert.
Mentale Gesundheit ist das Kernthema ihrer Musik, ihre Songs sprechen offen über ihren Kampf mit sich
selbst und ihre Social Media Profile sind ein sicherer Hafen und Ort für tiefen Austausch für ihre Fans
geworden.
Kings Elliot spielte bereits weltweit Festivals wie z.B. Barn on the farm oder das Montreux Jazz Festival, wurde unter anderem von Online- und Presseoutlets wie der Deutschen Vogue, Teen Vogue, Billboard,
Clash, Wonderland und zuletzt der Sunday Times gelobt und erhielt social Media Unterstützung von Reese
Witherspoon, Dixie D’Amelio, Lewis Capaldi, Milky Chance und Macklemore.
Sie tourte mit Imagine Dragons durch die größten US Stadien und supportete Sam Ryder (”Space Man”,
bekannt vom Eurovision Song Contest) auf dessen letzer EU Herbsttour, auch Stephen Sanchez nahm sie
als Support mit auf große US Tour.
Im Sommer 2023 supportete sie auch Lana Del Rey bei ihrer großen Hyde Park Show in London.
Mit ihrer EP ”I’m Not Always Sad, Sometimes I’m Angry” erscheint zum zweiten Mal ein physisches
Produkt in Form einer 10” Vinyl.

"“There are times in life when you’re so present, so fully immersed in the moment that you can catch a glimpse of another universe, of a realm beyond our own,” says Louisa Stancioff. “It might last for a second or an hour, it might come in the midst of bliss or sadness, you might be alone or with a lover, but when it happens, there’s nothing quite like it.”

When We Were Looking, Stancioff’s stunning Yep Roc debut, is full of those moments. Written and recorded through a period of deep heartbreak and uncertainty, the collection is the raw and unflinching work of a nomadic soul who spent stints living in Alaska, California, New York, and North Carolina before returning home to her native Maine, one that holds nothing back in its bittersweet reckonings with pain, healing, acceptance, and growth. Stancioff writes with a cinematic eye here, conjuring up richly detailed stagings for her emotionally-charged character studies, and the guitar-and-synth-focused arrangements are immersive and nuanced to match, thanks in part to the evocative sonic landscaping of producer/keyboardist Sam Kassirer (Josh Ritter, Craig Finn), who proves to be an ideal creative foil on the record. Add it all up and you’ve got a dreamy, nostalgic Polaroid of an album that blurs the lines between indie stoicism and folk sincerity, a lush, cathartic work that hints at everything from Phoebe Bridgers and Arlo Parks to Big Thief and Waxahatchee as it learns to find the beauty in grief and rebirth."

RUN-DMC DOWN WITH THE KING 30th ANNIVERSARY Pressed On Red, White and Black Double Colored Vinyl With Commemorative Numbered OBI Limited To 2000 Copies Thirty years ago on May 4, 1993, Run-DMC made one of the greatest comebacks in Hip-Hop history with the release of their 6th studio album Down With The King. To understand the significance of this feat we have to go back a few years. Coming off an amazing four-album run ending with the platinum album Tougher Than Leather, Run-DMC released their 5th studio album, Back From Hell, to lackluster sales. Did Run-DMC fall off? Did the emergence of gangsta rap push them off to the side? It was sad to see your Hip-Hop heroes take a fall. Then in 1991, a 12-inch remix came out for the single "Back From Hell" featuring Chuck D and Ice Cube and fans took notice. It would be two more years before anyone would hear from Run-DMC again. In March of 1993, a new single and video “Down With The King” debuted on Yo! MTV Raps featuring the new Hip-Hop Gods Pete Rock and CL Smooth paying homage to The Kings calling back verses from Sucker MCs over a dope signature Pete Rock beat. The video would be in constant rotation on Ralph McDaniels Video Music Box, YO!, BET’s Rap City and more. Fans watched it over and over to catch all the cameos, everyone from Eazy-E to the Native Tongues Family of De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest. The anticipation was building, but would the album live up to the lead single that knocked it out of the park? On May 4, 1993, the album dropped on CD, Cassette, and Vinyl. Run-DMC enlisted The Bomb Squad from Public Enemy, Q-Tip, EPMD, Jermaine Dupri, Kay Gee of Naughty By Nature, and Pete Rock to produce the album with a special appearance by Tom Morello rocking out his guitar emulating DJ scratches he made famous with Rage Against The Machine. Their rhyming was as enthusiastic and powerful as they were on their debut album 10 years prior. Run-DMC, the self-proclaimed Kings of Rock and original Kings of Hip Hop were indeed back. The album debuted at #1 on the R&B/Hip-Hop charts and #7 on the Billboard 200 and would go Gold within two months. Get On Down is proud to present for the first time on vinyl since its original release, a 30 Year Anniversary pressing on double-colored vinyl with numbered OBI in a gatefold jacket.

Cindy is to release a new six song EP called Swan Lake on 4th October via Tough Love. The title isn't a nod to the folktale or ballet in any real way, but to the fact that it all has ended up in the collective imagination as an object, vaguely recognizable, a little suggestive, and mostly blank. Karina Gill, Cindy's songwriter, likes to make use of that kind of resonance to connect sound and experience. The six songs on this EP continue the stripped-down habits of previous Cindy releases, while adding a few departures and left-turns. Cindy likes to work at the essentials and the elements here say exactly what's needed. In other ways, these songs present a soft filigree that's unusual for their recordings. Oli Lipton (Now, Violent Change) on guitar and Will Smith (Now) on bass play counterpoint melodies to Gill's structures. Staizsh Rodrigues (Children Maybe Later, Almond Joy, Peace Frog) sings vocal harmonies that both offset and deepen Gill's voice and delivery. There are playful drums by Mike Ramos (Tony Jay, Sad Eyed Beatniks) and coolly elaborate guitar lines from Stanley Martinez (Famous Mammals, Violent Change, Non Plus Temps). Gill's songs strike this balance too: almost nonchalant reporting tied up in unexpected knots. A ride in an elevator connects up with questions about peace and/or the nature of things; the title track wonders about associative thinking and associative feeling; The Bell is an account of one of those times when everything makes sense but you can't explain it; and there's the scene of a party viewed with admiration for how friends can love each other. As Gill herself says: "People have told me that they can't quite identify my influences. Me neither. The foundational layers of music of the past and my past have been metabolized like breakfast and turned into more me, sorry to say. But I experience the music of people I'm connected with and it impacts me in the moment. There's the music I'm around - April Magazine, Sad Eyed Beatniks, Violent Change, Katsy Pline, collaborating with Mike on Flowertown - that I can feel a direct line from. Then there's music that is being made far away but feels close, like Lewsberg, specifically, for this EP. "

See You At The Maypole, the sixth full-length album in Half Waif"s prolific catalog, is a recognition of personal sadness, and a call to ecstatic togetherness. It"s gathering the colors of our spirit, in all its shades, and making something intricate and remarkable. The ceremonial folk dance performed around a maypole is filled with fauna and flora, with ribbons woven into complex braids incapable of unraveling; these dances are survivals of ancient ritual, honoring the living trees, and the return of Spring and fertility. These patterns -- this dance -- cannot be completed alone, and so, Half Waif welcomes others to join her, a collective of bleeding color. "We are so much stronger for the colorful experiences we go through," she says. "That"s where we find our humanity and find each other." While the seclusion of grief feels infinite, Rose brought the songs to her trusted friend and longtime collaborator of the past decade, Zubin Hensler. The pair worked away from others for Mythopoetics, carefully crafting each note and flourish themselves but something else was needed for See You At The Maypole. To that end, Hensler and Rose welcomed a wealth of players and friends into the world of the record: Jason Burger and Zack Levine on drums and percussion; Josh Marre (Blue Ranger) on guitar; Hannah Epperson and Elena Moon Park on violin; Kristina Teuschler on clarinet; Willem de Koch on trombone; Rebecca El-Saleh on harp; and Spencer Zahn on upright bass. Andrew Sarlo (Big Thief, Bon Iver) lent his deft mixing skills to many of the tracks, including lead single "Figurine." "This wasn"t just my story, I wanted to say. It was every story of loss-the loss of a life, the loss of a dream, the loss of trust and hope and faith. A story of finding a way back again," Rose explains. "My own avenue back to the land of the living was through my relationships with people and with the natural world. It only seemed right that these songs would invite those people in to build the very heart of the sound."

Phantastic Ferniture, the delightfully lightheaded project of Julia
Jacklin, Elizabeth Hughes, Ryan K Brennan and Tom Stephens,
release their self-titled debut album via Transgressive Records.
The mission is obvious: don't overthink it. These artists' shared
want to shake the shackles of their meticulously crafted solo
work to experience a second, giddy adolescence is evident in
the garage-pop perfection introduced today.
I'd gone straight into folk music,' says Jacklin, 'so every
experience I'd had on stage was playing sad music with a
guitar in my hand. I thought, I would love to know what it's like
to make people feel good and dance.'
Phantastic Ferniture's spiritual home may be the garage but
they were born in a bar, specifically the hallowed basement of
Frankie's Pizza in Sydney. One late night in 2014, on Jacklin's
birthday, a group hug manifested amid the pinball machines,
with all ten participants vowing to form a band. 'Only four of us
remembered the next day,' notes Hughes.
United by fern puns and a love of leisurewear, the band met up
whenever schedules would allow, writing songs and playing
smatterings of dates to an increasingly devoted audience.
Eventually it was decreed that this was no side project and an
album should follow. The result is one of the most enjoyable
albums of 2018. 'It feels really good,' Jacklin says with
satisfaction. 'It's like having an alter ego.'
A slice of defiant brilliance that feels effortless in its
execution.' - London In Stereo
LP pressed on pink vinyl with digital download code.
Press - Reviews in Clash, DIY, Q , Loud & Quiet, The Skinny. Radio - 6Music Lauren Laverne Track Of The Day
Online - DIY, Too Many Blogs, Most Radicalist, Giglist, London In
Stereo, Loud and Quiet, The Skinny, God Is In The TV Zine.

Reissue

'Find Me Finding You', the new album from the new organization called the Laetitia Sadier Source Ensemble, manages to strike new chords while touching familiar keys in the song of life.
From its percolating opening beat, 'Find Me Finding You' locates new systems within the sound-universe of Laetitia Sadier. This in itself isn't a surprise - Laetitia has relentlessly followed her music through different dynamics and into a variety of dimensions over the course of four solo albums since 2010 (not to forget her three albums with Monade and the long era of Stereolab) - but the nature of the construction here stands distinctly apart from her recent albums. Laetitia was inspired by a mind's-eye envisaging of geometric forms and their possible permutations. As she sought to replicate the shapes in music, this guided the process of assembly for the album.
Part of the freshness of 'Find Me Finding You' comes from working and playing within the Source Ensemble and exploring new sound combinations via a set of youthful and evolving musical relationships. Laetitia recognized the energy of the tracks in their initial form and sought to preserve their vitality by not retaking too many performances - instead, the rawness in the tracks was retained and refined at the mixing stage, maintaining an edge throughout. When we hear synth lines diving, lifting and drifting, unusual guitar textures, the plucked sound of flat wound bass strings or the bottomless pulsing of bass pedals stepping out of the mix with an exquisite vibrancy, this is the sound of the Source Ensemble.
A key to Laetitia's music is her use of vocal arrangements. Throughout 'Finding Me Finding You' the shifting accompaniment creates space to bring this element gloriously forward. Arranged by Laetitia with Joe Watson and Jeff Parker making string charts that were subsequently transposed to vocal parts for several songs, richly arranged choirs of voices provide depth along with the thrilling presence of extra breath in the sound. Laetitia's community-politic is well-served by the groups of voices lending support to the machining of the song craft, providing additional uplift to her quintessentially forward-facing viewpoint - as well as massed voices from three different countries sharing space in harmony.
Working in collaboration is Laetita's tradition and a key to this album's view on being free together. The designation of Source Collective implies a new togetherness phase, alongside long time collaborators Emmanuel Mario and Xavi Munoz, keyboard and flutes parts played by David Thayer (Little Tornados) were essential contributions, as well as further keys, synths and electronics from Phil M FU and several intense guitar sequences from Mason le Long. Chris A Cummings (aka Marker Starling, Laetitia's favourite composer) graciously wrote 'Deep Background' for her. The duet with Hot Chip's Alexis Taylor on 'Love Captive' (not to mention Rob Mazurek's distinctive coronet playing) gives voice to an ideological cornerstone of 'Find Me Finding You'