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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.”

What is there to say about this album that hasn’t been said before? Multiple words could be used to describe this album: Timeless. Essential. Masterpiece. Definitive. Sickening. Yes, even sickening falls into this category, because believe it or not, back in 1996 when Cryptopsy released “None So Vile,” it was unlike anything else at the time. From the first drum hits and guitar riffs of “Crown Of Horns,” it would have been obvious, and still is to this day, that Cryptopsy improved on themselves since “Blasphemy Made Flesh.” But then you combine some of the most technical and speedy Death Metal to date with the sickening screams, snarls, growls, and grunts of vocalist Lord Worm, and I’m sure that 1996 was the year Death Metal changed forever. “None So Vile” is a testament to the Death Metal formula, and the odd thing is is that not many have tried to emulate it. I don’t know why. Maybe it might be because of how difficult it would be to emulate an album of this calibur. Cryptopsy is a massive influence upon Death Metal. Many factors contribute to the influence Cryptopsy struck upon Death Metal. One of them is absurdly seen from Flo Mounier’s maniacal drumming. As far as I’m concerned, two words can sum up this man: Speed Demon. But just because he’s speedy doesn’t mean he loses any shed of technicality. But Flo is not alone in making Cryptopsy. With the duo of Jon Levasseur and Eric Langlois on guitar and bass respectively, Cryptopsy was noted for their technical music playing. Just look at songs like “Slit Your Guts,” “Graves Of The Fathers,” and “Phobophile” to see how this duo completely tore apart everything that may have been considered a standard for Death Metal at that time. These two remade the standard by bringing shredding guitar and audible, crushing, and technical bass playing into the mix. The playing by these two is a testament to technical playing. But what truly makes Cryptopsy, and many would agree, is Lord Worm. This man is down right beastly. No true word in the English vernacular could describe what this man brings to Cryptopsy and what he did for Death Metal on “None So Vile.” At this point in time, I don’t think anyone could have anticipated vocals like this. He is downright in-fucking-human. His screams are vicious, his gutteral growls are putrid, and the longevity at which he can perform and hold these vocals is insane. But not only did Lord Worm bring a sickening unnatural vocal style, he brings

Limited edition of 7500 picture disc copies. Spirituals is Santigold's first full-length album since 2016's 99¢, and was mostly recorded during the 2020 lockdown. "All of a sudden there I was with three small children out of school_just-turned-two-year-old twins and a six-year-old_I was cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and changing diapers from morning to night, with three little kids coming in and out of my bed throughout each night like musical chairs. I was losing touch with the artist me, stuck in a part of myself that was too small. I felt the other parts of me were shrinking, disappearing." Santigold struggled but succeeded in defining a space in which she could center herself and collaborate virtually with producers and contributors: Rostam, Boys Noize, Dre Skull, P2J, Nick Zinner, SBTRKT, JakeOne, Illangelo, Doc McKinney, Psymun, Ricky Blaze, Lido, Ray Brady, and Ryan Olson. "Recording this album was a way back to myself after being stuck in survival mode. It wasn't until I made the space to create that I realized I wasn't only creating music but a lifeline," she says. California was on fire, we were hiding from a plague, the social justice protests were unfolding. "I'd never written lyrics faster in my life. After having total writer's block, they started pouring out. I decided to create the future, to look towards where we are going, to create beauty and pull towards that beauty. I need that for myself, but it's also there for whoever else needs it."

(Remastered 2022)

„Breaking Hearts“ von Elton John, welches 1984 veröffentlicht wurde, erscheint am 2. September erneut.

Das Album knüpfte an den Erfolg des im Vorjahr erschienenen Albums „2 Low 4 Zero“ an, das Elton in die oberen Positionen der Weltcharts befördert hatte. Elton nahm das Album im AIR Montserrat mit
Davey Johnstone, Dee Murray und Nigel Olsson auf und folgte der Erfolgsformel des Vorgängeralbums.

„Breaking Hearts” wurde originalgetreu neu verpackt und ist jetzt auf 1LP als 2022 remastered Ausgabe erhältlich.

"Art is awe, art is mystery expressed," writes Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. "Art is somatic, even if it is experienced cerebrally. It is felt." The central mysteries of Smith's ninth studio album, Let's Turn it Into Sound, have to do with perception, expression, and communication: How can we communicate when spoken language is inadequate? How do we understand what it is we're feeling? How do we translate our experience of the world into something that someone else can understand? For Smith, a self-described "feeler," the answers are inspired by compound words in non-English languages, translation, sculptural fashion, dance, butoh, wushu shaolin, and other forms of sensory and somatic experience. Just like fashion uses lines, shapes, colors, textures, and silhouettes to communicate on a sensual level separate from the conscious mind, Let's Turn it Into Sound strives to use sound to communicate what words alone cannot. "The album is a puzzle," Smith says. "It is a symbol of receiving a compound of a ton of feelings from going out into a situation, and the song titles are instructions to breaking apart the feelings and understanding them." The energized "Is it Me or is it You" comes from traversing the gaps between how you see yourself and how another might see you, through a filter of their own projections. The hushed sense of revelation that brackets "There is Something" refers to the feeling of walking into a room and being subconsciously aware of the dynamic present. All the while, Smith interprets these feelings through sound. This auditory interpretation process, driven by earnest curiosity, led Smith to record some thoughts and questions that popped up along the journey in Somatic Hearing_a booklet which accompanies the album. Over three frenzied months, recording alone in her home studio, Smith allowed herself to pursue new experiments to accompany her usual toolkit of modular, analogue, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral sounds, and the voice. She created a new vocal processing technique, and gave herself permission to pursue a pacing that felt intuitive, rather one that followed typical song structures. She walked around in the windiest season with a subwoofer backpack and an umbrella, listening to the low end of the album amidst 60mph gusts. She listened to herself, and, in doing so, to an inner community which suddenly opened to her. Underlying the album is a dynamic relationship between what Smith describes as six distinct voices, each a multifaceted storyteller. By acknowledging these characters, she was acknowledging her whole being: the woven plurality of self, the complex process of noticing and resolving inner conflicts, and the joy of finding harmony in flux. "I started to feel so embodied by all of these characters. This is all the felt, unsaid stuff my inner community wants to communicate but it doesn't have the English language as its form of communication, and so this album was a form of giving space to let it talk and not judge it and just let it play." By not adhering to expected song structures, each song feels even more like a conversation, with each character getting to express themselves in full.

"Art is awe, art is mystery expressed," writes Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. "Art is somatic, even if it is experienced cerebrally. It is felt." The central mysteries of Smith's ninth studio album, Let's Turn it Into Sound, have to do with perception, expression, and communication: How can we communicate when spoken language is inadequate? How do we understand what it is we're feeling? How do we translate our experience of the world into something that someone else can understand? For Smith, a self-described "feeler," the answers are inspired by compound words in non-English languages, translation, sculptural fashion, dance, butoh, wushu shaolin, and other forms of sensory and somatic experience. Just like fashion uses lines, shapes, colors, textures, and silhouettes to communicate on a sensual level separate from the conscious mind, Let's Turn it Into Sound strives to use sound to communicate what words alone cannot. "The album is a puzzle," Smith says. "It is a symbol of receiving a compound of a ton of feelings from going out into a situation, and the song titles are instructions to breaking apart the feelings and understanding them." The energized "Is it Me or is it You" comes from traversing the gaps between how you see yourself and how another might see you, through a filter of their own projections. The hushed sense of revelation that brackets "There is Something" refers to the feeling of walking into a room and being subconsciously aware of the dynamic present. All the while, Smith interprets these feelings through sound. This auditory interpretation process, driven by earnest curiosity, led Smith to record some thoughts and questions that popped up along the journey in Somatic Hearing_a booklet which accompanies the album. Over three frenzied months, recording alone in her home studio, Smith allowed herself to pursue new experiments to accompany her usual toolkit of modular, analogue, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral sounds, and the voice. She created a new vocal processing technique, and gave herself permission to pursue a pacing that felt intuitive, rather one that followed typical song structures. She walked around in the windiest season with a subwoofer backpack and an umbrella, listening to the low end of the album amidst 60mph gusts. She listened to herself, and, in doing so, to an inner community which suddenly opened to her. Underlying the album is a dynamic relationship between what Smith describes as six distinct voices, each a multifaceted storyteller. By acknowledging these characters, she was acknowledging her whole being: the woven plurality of self, the complex process of noticing and resolving inner conflicts, and the joy of finding harmony in flux. "I started to feel so embodied by all of these characters. This is all the felt, unsaid stuff my inner community wants to communicate but it doesn't have the English language as its form of communication, and so this album was a form of giving space to let it talk and not judge it and just let it play." By not adhering to expected song structures, each song feels even more like a conversation, with each character getting to express themselves in full.

"His music filled me with the urge to connect with the world," Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith says of Emile Mosseri. She first heard his work while watching the 2019 film The Last Black Man In San Francisco; just minutes in, she paused it to look up who did the score and wrote to him immediately. "I love Emile's ability to create melodies that feel magically scenic and familiar like they are reminding you of the innocence of loving life." Those talents saw recognition in 2020 with an Oscar nomination for Mosseri's original score to the film Minari. He was already a fan of Smith's and became increasingly intrigued by her impressionistic process as they started to talk. "The music feels so spiritual and alive and made from the earth," Mosseri says. "I think of her as the great conductor, summoning musical poetry from her orchestra of machines." I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon, their two-part collaborative album, introduces an uncanny fusion of their sonics. Constructed using synthesizer, piano, electronics, and voice, this soft-focus dream world is lush, evocative, and fleeting. It finds two composers tuning their respective styles inward as an ode to mutual inspiration, a celebration of the human spirit and its will to surrender to the currents of life. As a full album set, I Could Be Your Dog / I Could Be Your Moon moves fluidly from track to track, panning through textural vignettes. Two roughly 17-minute halves, the set evokes the bittersweet sense of something too bright or rare to last, a short-lived glimpse into a golden hour. There is a dreamy, elemental intention to this music, which Smith and Mosseri say came naturally, as they both embraced intuitive interplay throughout their creative back-and-forth. The stylistic threads of each composer are recognizable yet become more ambiguous as the album progresses, sewn into a singular vision.

Following several tragedies in his personal life, New York rapper El Gant had a decision to make—face those losses head on or bury them deep within. Luckily for us, he chose the former. The result is O.S.L.O., the emcee’s most gripping and personal project yet. It’s also his most relatable, because it shows what we’re all capable of when we’re equipped with the right tools to cope and, in El Gant’s case, transform that tragedy into something powerful.

The album arrives nearly a decade after his previous solo effort, 2014’s great Beast Academy, and after several years spent touring and recording with his group, Jamo Gang, with Ras Kass and J57. Despite the highs associated with that time, El Gant also experienced major personal losses. In particular, he lost three close friends—The Last Original, Bones, and Jim Misa—all of whom had a major impact on his life and career. In fact, the album’s title, O.S.L.O., references the Last Original, because it’s an acronym for “Our Sun the Last Original.”

But it wouldn’t be an El Gant project without some straight-up dope hip-hop, too. Tracks like “Avirex (feat. Innocent? & King Magnetic)” and “Chromed Out (feat. Ras Kass & Planet Asia)” are absolute bangers filled with shape-shifting flows and crazy wordplay.

There’s a reason for these tonal shifts, too; El Gant didn’t want to simply create a linear album. “I want to take the listener on a few ups and downs, just like life does for most of us,” the emcee says. It’s those qualities that make O.S.L.O. so immediately satisfying, and why it’s his most accomplished work to date.

Limited to: 300 copies.

Lera Lynn blurs the boundaries between genres, carving out a sound inspired by art-pop, indie-folk and the outer edges of American roots music. She’s a singer. She’s a songwriter. She’s a road warrior. She’s a multi-instrumentalist and producer. She’s a mother.

Texas born, Nashville resident Lera Lynn is just as comfortable creating an album entirely by herself, as she is collaborating with her heroes. In 2018, she worked with T Bone Burnett and Rosanne Cash on tracks that were not only picked up by the TV show True Detective, but Lynn was cast as a recurring character who performs in a dive bar frequented by the main characters.

However, nothing could have prepared Lynn for the lessons learned during motherhood. She welcomed her first son during the early months of the pandemic and began writing down her insights, chronicling this newfound experience of shifting priorities, strange endings, and new beginnings. Inside, she was battling postpartum depression. Outside, a bigger picture began taking shape: a feeling of interconnectedness, of cyclic renewal, of the knowledge that every beginning is an end and every end is a beginning. Those realizations coalesced into Something More Than Love, a record filled with synthesizers, lush soundscapes, the pop-noire punch of Lynn's voice, and the most dynamic melodies of her career.

Inspired by the cyclical patterns that shape our place in the world, Something More Than Love was co-produced and largely performed by Lynn and her partner, Todd Lombardo (Kacey Musgraves/Donovan Woods/Kathleen Edwards). They'd met years earlier, not long after Lynn relocated to Nashville from her college town (and musical launchpad) of Athens, Georgia. "My first time ever co-writing a song was in Nashville with Todd," she says of the ACM-nominated multi-instrumentalist. The two became fast friends and, eventually, partners; their creative chemistry giving way to romance and a growing family. That partnership reached a new milestone in 2021, with the newfound parents sharpening their creative instincts and expanding their palette for Lynn's sixth album.

"A lot of people were making records during the pandemic," Lynn notes, "and all they had was time. But it was the opposite experience for us. We created this whole record while still in the fog of early parenthood, and we didn't have the luxury of waiting for lightning to strike. We had to be focused and intentional."

Striking a balance between intimate self-reflection and universal insight, Something More Than Love poses big questions over even bigger-sounding music, with tempos and layered arrangements that find Lynn at her most dynamic. Illusion opens the album with spacey synthesizers before snapping into a taut, 1980s-influenced groove, combing reverb and rhythm into a song that swoons one minute and struts the next. I'm Your Kamikaze — a deconstructed burst of indie garage-rock, heavy on melody and percussive pulse — unfolds like a salute to self-sacrifice, with Lynn dedicating her own existence to ensuring her child's flourishing. What Is This Body? finds her reassessing her ideas of physical identity and womanhood, while the album's gorgeous title track makes room for slow-burn strings and a meteoric chorus.

Together, those songs turn Lera Lynn's experience with absolute surrender — surrendering oneself to the trials and triumphs of motherhood — into a universal record about the experiences that bind us together. This isn't just Lynn's story. It's the story of a life cycle that repeats itself over and over, every termination point becoming a starting line, every death matched by a rebirth, every edge giving way to the circular slope of the ouroboros.

Long before Lina Seybold became a geologist, the singer and guitarist was already writing songs and making a name for herself far beyond the city limits of Munich with her Steve Albini-trained (and produced) quartet candelilla, before the band dispersed into new projects. During her studies, she met Moritz Gamperl and the two realised that what they learned in rock research could also play a role in rock music. Thus, the material history of the planet became both a source of existential reflections for the two and the impetus for a highly accomplished and often graceful sound, which has been expressed in the band pirx together with drummer Sascha Saygin since 2019: Technically sovereign, obstinate songs that - with Seybold now on bass and vocals - create subtle dramaturgies, cinematic aesthetics, far-reaching arcs of tension.

With Lamina, the trio now presents an excellent debut album, recorded by Martin M. Hermann, which shoots out of the earth with explosive force as hot lava, only to flow into the valley in glowing beauty the next moment, changing the earth's surface, telling of elemental forces - until it finally evaporates the water in the sea and lays a comatose fog over all existence. Or in other words: pirx make creation music, in all directions of time!

WRWTFWW Records and MEG Museum (Geneva) are ecstatic to announce a new full length album by celebrated Japanese percussionist Midori Takada (Through The Looking Glass), in collaboration with Buddhist monks belonging to the Samgha group of the Shingon school of Koya-san, led by Reverend Syuukoh Ikawa. You Who Are Leaving To Nirvana is available on half speed mastered vinyl LP, housed in a 350gsm sleeve, with OBI, and liner notes, as well as on digipack CD.

Recorded at The Premises Studio (London) and in Tokyo in 2019,You Who are Leaving to Nirvana is a majestic work combining a suite of six Buddhist liturgical chants and a musical creation by Midori Takada. The Buddhist chants come from three types of repertoires: shomyo ("Teisan", "Unga-Bai", "Sange", "Taiyo"), but also goeika ("Kannon-Daiji") and mantra ("Hannya-Singyo").

After supervising the recording of the Buddhist chants, Midori Takada added her own compositions, with subtle layers of percussion and the melodies of her beloved marimba, giving full life to the sacred texts.

Reverend Syuukoh Ikawa explains: "Shomyo is a form of declamation of sacred esoteric texts, inherited over many generations. The power of words goes far beyond their mere pronunciation. I think there is something that words alone cannot really convey. If I recite prayers in a musical way, the feeling transmitted will be even stronger than if I say it normally, in everyday language. I think that the musicality of a work carries a hidden power that cannot be expressed in words alone. The setting of the music has an additional power for you and for those around you who listen to it. The words of a song are not just words set to music. They carry an additional hidden power that cannot be expressed in any other way. Listening to Midori Takada's musical performance, the words truly seem to come alive."

Original recordings of the Buddhist chants are held in the International Archives of Folk Music (IAFM) at the MEG Museum in Geneva.

The album sleeve features an artwork by famed Japanese sculptor Katsura Funakoshi selected by Midori Takada.

You Who Are Leaving To Nirvana is released in conjunction with Midori Takada's Cutting Branches For A Temporary Shelter, also available on LP and CD on WRWTFWW Records.

The Paranoid Style album begins with an elegy for the radical, tragic Pop Art titan Barney Bubbles and ends with a revved-up cover of Rosanne Cash's peerless "Seven Year Ache." Throughout the ten songs in-between, Elizabeth Nelson weaves together stories about figures like Steve Cropper, P.G. Wodehouse, and Doug Yule. She visits her hometown and ponders Jack Kerouac's house in her childhood neighborhood. She laments the loss of David Berman and Adam Schlesinger, and duets with Patterson Hood from the Drive-By Truckers on an infectious tribute to John Prine. She ponders the desecration of the music industry and drinks her beer in a tavern and sings the working gal's blues. Loaded with vivid detail and memorable riffs, it proves what in-the-know critics have been saying for years: Elizabeth Nelson is one of our best songwriters. Also Available From The Paranoid Style: Rolling Disclosure LP.

Sub Pop debut by accomplished Greek artist Σtella, produced by Redinho (Swet Shop Boys).
‘Up And Away’ is an eclectic, compelling modern pop album showcasing Σtella’s skilled songwriting and the influence of classic love songs, Greek folk, and contemporary electronic-music production.

Σtella makes her Sub Pop debut with the mesmerizing ‘Up And Away’, an oldschool pop paean to the pangs and raptures of love. From the Greek folkinflected get-go, we’re swept up in Σtella’s world - and it’s quite the captivating place to be.

The singer songwriter joined forces with artist and producer Tom Calvert (aka Redinho), and it was a match made in Athens; the results are heavenly. Tom caught one of Σtella’s gigs on a visit to the city. He reached out, they started hanging out, and the pair soon clicked creatively. Both mention chemistry when asked about their collaboration and it’s clear, from what we hear, they had it in spades. The meld is seamless.

Σtella’s songs have always riffed on American and Greek mid-century pop but ‘Up And Away’ doubles down on the vintage aesthetic. Tom says he styled the record “as if it was a rare gem from the ’60s found in a box of records in Athens,” and Σtella notes she was ready for a more “deeply Greek touch - it felt comfortable and right, smoothly fusing with the pop.” The bouzouki appears on a full five tracks played by Christos Skondras who, she says, “was brilliant at improvising,” while Sofia Labropoulou on the kanun “brought an insane amount of dreaminess to the last two songs. Having these amazing musicians play for ‘Up And Away’ - I couldn’t be more grateful.”

While not exclusively a confessional artist, Σtella is always intimate - when she sings, it’s personal. She writes “about things I feel passion for. Stories about me, about others, about all that’s there in love and war.” Σtella was “in a very emotional state at the time, which came through in the lyrics and vocals.” And it’s true, her honeyed voice - layered in those unmistakable harmonies of hers - thrillingly runs the gamut from tender to terse, by turns bracing and smitten, aching and forlorn. But it’s the lyrics that feel key. Across her output, Σtella has proven herself a strong storyteller, and ‘Up And Away’ is no exception (the guise of the medieval bard she assumes on the cover is telling). Past releases have been studded with gem-like vignettes - a diverse array of stories set tightly together to form non-linear narratives unified by emotion. Her latest feels singular in that it seems to trace a longer-form tale across songs, with each track escalating the record’s erotic arc.

By the end of the album, ‘Up And Away’s core concerns are clear: the conflicting and conflicted emotions inherent in love, that live on in ways we can’t always understand or control. Love is like this record: when it’s over, you still feel it for time to come.
Loser Edition LP pressed on blue vinyl.

Paul Wise aka Placid is the driving force behind ‘We’re Going Deep’ – a thriving online community and record label that’s showing no signs of slowing down as we pop, dip and spin into the spring season. As a label owner, Paul’s mission couldn’t be clearer - releasing new music for heads of all persuasions. Fresh cuts aimed squarely at the dance floor, your front room or even just the headphones. Rather than staying too hung up on the past, he continues to focus on serving up the best in new Acid, Electro, Techno, Deep House alongside scintillating slices of Downtempo music.

Sticking to the trusted format of 4 superlative cuts from equally talented producers, the quality and talent on show does not disappoint on WGD 007. Starting the dance with 303 maestro and label legend Tin Man, A1 “I Said Acid” is a tantalising twist on the classic combination of a Roland TR-707 and SH-101. As a metronomic pulsating kick carves out a squarely hewn path, slow opening filtered lead and hauntingly repetitive “Acid” vocals exert maximal pressure to create a sheer moment of joy. Balanced out by the dreamy atmospherics of A2 “I’ll Meet You On The Dancefloor”. UK Deep House supremo Rai Scott exerts her perfected knowhow: blending organically tinged percussion with profound melodic touches that meander across the borderlines of your consciousness.

On B1 “Necessary Order”, the machine mastery of Sound Synthesis collides in perfect harmony as Keith Farrugia demonstrates his deft turns of the dials that are becoming more in demand. A sprinkle of stargazing soul is woven around light touch acidic tweaks and snappy drums, echoing the twinkling embers of the cosmos. Not to be outdone, Dutch born German bred producer Roger Van Lunteren takes control with the final slice on B2 “Le Dee Trois Trio Prends Trois”. A wince inducing, sawtooth heavy jam that should not be taken lightly. As the saying goes, this one’s only for headstrong.

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.

Recorded under a loft bed in the guest bedroom of his Nashville home, Michael Ruth aka Rich Ruth’s “I Survived, It’s Over” starts in a humble space. And while many contemporary music projects are produced in such an environment, “I Survived, It’s Over” sets itself apart in its transformative properties as well as its transparency. What we have here is honest sound exploration, session musician-level instrumentation, and a true love for nature run through the fingers of a dude who can channel some acute and undeniable magic. This music goes deep. "I conceived much of this record amidst the quiet and tumult of 2020 in my neighborhood that had recently been ravaged by a tornado," Ruth recalls, "I spent most of my days working on these pieces between bicycle rides - watching the beautiful Tennessee ecosystem flourish in Shelby Park, listening to Keith Jarrett’s The Koln Concert and John Coltrane’s Ascension." Underneath the swell of the strings and the shredding of the guitars, this record has hard working, rustbelt, drum-heavy roots all over it (which makes sense as Ruth hails from outside of Toledo, the album was mixed by John McEntire from Chicago band Tortoise). Many of the flutes, saxophones, pedal steel, and other instruments were recorded remotely because we live in the future, but this only adds to the collage of sampled and sample-able material that Rich Ruth has to offer. The organic relationships between the artist and other musicians on the album is evident even in the compilation style sampling that needs to occur in putting such a project together. "Working on this music is a daily meditation," says Ruth. "I constantly experiment with sound until it reflects the way I am feeling and attempt to sculpt something meaningful from it. Through years of being a touring musician, it is a constant inspiration and privilege to collaborate with the individuals that graced this record with their voices." And those relationships pay off, because “I Survived, It’s Over” is a sonic meal. It’s rich (no pun intended) with massive instrumentation that’s usually reserved for more symphonic delights. But at the same time it’s simple and leaves space to breathe–space you didn’t know you needed. In his own words; "I Survived, It’s Over is a meditation on healing, confronting trauma, surrendering, and finding peace. I wanted to encapsulate the tranquility and disarray found within this process." Ruth’s heart and the peace that his presence produces is all over this album. And despite his midwestern humility and willingness to brush off any praise, he’s put together something really special that carries its own weight. It's the kind of record that only comes around every once in a while and it's worthy of all the head-bobs, acclaim, and celebratory potlucks that Mike and the gang have coming their way. “I Survived, It’s Over” is a record you should buy for your friend, your foe, and yourself. It’ll sit perfectly on your shelf between Alice Coltrane and Hiroshi Yoshimura.

A Ride is the new dark alt-country concept album on the road by Phill Reynolds, to be released on June 17th, 2022 by Bronson Recordings; Like all the best concept albums, A Ride takes you on a journey. This one concerns the last three days of an American runaway’s life. Part road-trip, part engrossing mystery, part search for redemption, it’s the fictional tale of a troubled man whose past comes back to haunt him. Via eleven intimate, chronologically-sequenced songs, we travel with him. There are epiphanies and dream sequences, drunken dive-bar nights and chats with Jesus and Lucifer. As the narrator battles with his dark side, it is ultimately we, the listeners, who must weigh-up and flesh-out his story. According to its creator Phill Reynolds, AKA Italian alt-country singer-songwriter Silva Martino Cantele, the key to The Ride’s mystery might lie within its fifth song, A Clockwork Dream. “That’s where we discover that, because of some kind of courtroom trial, the narrator has lost someone who was very important to him”, Reynolds explains. “But we never find out her name or her relationship to the main character. Is she a blood relative? Is she his wife or someone else?”. The origins of A Ride go back to 2015. On tour in the US, Reynolds took in the shifting landscapes, the people he met and their stories. All of this fed into the album he recorded at the all-analogue TUP Studio in Brescia, near Milan. Reynolds played almost all of the instruments himself and co-produced A Ride with long-term collaborator Bruno Barcella. If A Clockwork Dream features a full band arrangement – “I think of it as the kind of thing Neil Young & Crazy Horse might do on a Sunday morning”, says Reynolds – other songs are sparer, more intimate. Banjo, Fender Rhodes, harmonica and glistening slide guitar all feature as Reynolds delivers haunting confessionals such as Run, Run Away and The Fault Is Mine, songs likely to appeal to fans of artists such as Damien Jurado, Strand Of Oaks or For Emma, Forever Ago-era Bon Iver. Intricate, rapid-fire fingerpicking on the first single This Isn’t Me and The Call of The Dark demonstrates Reynolds’ dexterity, while his voice is a rich, fully-lived in instrument seasoned with the salt of experience,and strengthened by the 120 or so gigs a year he used to do before COVID took his one-man show off the road. Long an inhabitant of picturesque Italian towns in the Vicenza province, Phill Reynolds was born in Marostica and currently lives in Zugliano. He was only five when The Beach Boys’ Barbara Ann worked its magic upon him via the radio. Later a fan of ‘90s Californian punk bands, Reynolds was writing and performing in his own post-hardcore bands by 13, but didn’t make it to the nearest big city, Milan, until he was 19. Bands still matter deeply to him. But his love for folk music has deepened over the last decade or so, hence his solo act alter-ego. Where did the name Phill Reynolds come from? “Everybody asks me this,” he smiles. “Especially in the UK. The truth is I needed an alternative name for a gig I was doing, and at the time I was in love with the music of Phil Ochs and Malvina Reynolds. Malvina Ochs didn’t sound too good to me, so I became Phill Reynolds, and I like that, because it sounds like a normal person”. The esteemed Italian label Bronson Recordings will release his fourth solo album A Ride on June 17th, 2022, on CD, vinyl and digital. A Ride is the most ambitious and fully-realised Phill Reynolds album to date. He was assisted by Stefano Pilia (lead guitar on Dive Bar Oblivion), IOSONOUNCANE (backing vocals, synth, bass and field recordings on World On Fire), and C+C=Maxigross (bass, drums and backing vocals on In The Dark). The record’s story is a dark one, but not one without hope. “Every end is a new beginning”, says Reynolds. “One of the main themes here is that life can be a sort of trap unless you recognise your own demons and try to deal with him. So we must be prepared and try to live well”.

In recent years Swedish musician Linnéa Talp has grown interested in
minimal spaces of sound, increasingly searching for her breath deep
within passages of a song when instruments gently and patiently bridge
the verses
In 2020 she released COCHLEA, a brooding pop- rock record made under the
name DEEREST. "I've been trying to work with my body, my breath and my
listening," she says of her work since finishing that release. "I wanted to integrate
a sense of slow and simple movement into the music — push/ release, forward/
backward, inhale/ exhale — everything centered around being present, translated
into sounding." That transformation is evidenced on her remarkable new album
Arch of Motion, a recording marked by exquisite patience and space.

In 2020, a year shaped by stringent COVID-19 restrictions, many of us paused for thought about our collective futures. For First Light Records, this reflection, plus the support of Sound and Music's Composer-Curator programme, led to the development of Unbuilt Sound, a new series of commissions centred around acoustic ecology; the relationship between listener and environment. The first iteration of the Unbuilt Sound series sees Flora Yin-Wong retreat to an isolated cabin outside Machynlleth, North Wales, to collect the field recordings that provide the basis for her folklore-inspired album, The Sacrifice.

A collage of twisted field recordings, rich waves of synth, and whispered vocals, The Sacrifice oscillates between gentle familiarity and dreamlike distortions, inspiring a folkloric sense of place that extends across time. Softly dissonant drones envelop the sounds of rocks underfoot and rippling pools, a continuous call and response between artist and landscape. These themes are perhaps best captured on 'Willow Bends', which features spoken word written and performed by Berlin's Rachel Lyn. "Ride," she says, "these ancient and contemporary currents, carrying their secrets from up-stream. Wanderwaves, when pebbles skip across the ripples, I reflect upon it, this water mirror..."

On the outskirts of late 1970s Olympia, Washington, something stirs, sings, and breathes. Cheri Knight, a music composition student at the Evergreen State College, is developing her practice in a quaint but adequately equipped campus recording studio, amalgamating with the sonic timbre of the surrounding time, space, and place, while devoting to her own inner maxims. At once performative and meditative, electronic and organic, collaborative and self-contained, Cheri’s early compositions are simultaneously complete and sketches of a ceremonial process at play. American Rituals captures the artist’s environmental emergence, unearthing a unique compositional voice and signposting a regional sonic ethos.

The path to Evergreen seems gently preordained for Cheri, a whisper in the trees. Growing up in a musical household in Western Massachusetts, she learned to play piano and clarinet, demurring from notated music but composing piano pieces in the minimalist mode of Erik Satie and folk songs inspired by Joni Mitchell. In high school, her class studied John Cage’s work, an epiphanic moment
for the young artist. The group also visited a studio outside Amherst where she encountered the modular limitlessness of a Moog synthesizer. Cheri studied philosophy and music at Whitman College in Washington, and then took a year to build a stone house with some friends in New Hampshire. She settled at Evergreen soon after, carrying with her a zeal for improvisation, creative investigation,
and hands-on experimentation.

Cheri Knight's music emerges from the outskirts of late seventies / early eighties Olympia, Washington, offering sound that is both performative and meditative, electronic and organic, collaborative and self-contained, and richly rewarding. Nestled in the nascent milieu of Evergreen State College, where Cheri studied music composition, her practice developed between campus studios and expeditions to San Francisco and Mt. Temper, New York, where she apprenticed and collaborated with Pauline Oliveros and Linda Montano; always adapting to the musical and philosophical timbre of those times and places. American Rituals captures an artist's environmental emergence, unearthing a unique compositional voice and spotlighting regional sonic ethos. The seven works collected here, largely from various DIY cassette and vinyl compilations, range from polyvocal chants, pensive instrumental works, spoken-word collages, primal post-punk excursions, and hymn-like incantations. All are bound by a performative energy, expressing a Cage-ian commitment to the present moment, but also harboring a meditative interior. Marrying the seeing and hearing senses, Cheri's early work primarily plays with words-spoken, sung, recited, incanted, chanted, instructed, whispered - expressing the ritualized patternings of everyday material turned beautiful and strange, musical and hummable, conceptual and devotional. Freedom to Spend excavates this verdant period of experimentation, meeting Cheri at a moment of elemental evolution. Restored and remastered from original tape sources by Josh Bonati, the vinyl edition includes comprehensive liner notes by Steve Peters, a high quality, multi-format digital download, and a future world of past possibilities.

He might be vocalist in bands such as Brighton-based progressive act Diagonal and psychedelic outfit Baron, but when it comes to his solo work Alex Crispin has typically worked in more wordless fields. Last year the songwriter, vocalist and producer released a triptych of ambient albums, consisting of two older albums in 'Idle Worship' and 'Open Submission', as well as new meditative work in 'Resubmergency'. On his new self-titled album, however, Crispin re-emerges from the cavernous soundscapes to – for the first time – put his vocal and song writing stamp on a record under his own name. “I personally find it easier to create more guarded, moody music, but I was at a point where I wanted to embrace a more universal, intimate and open side to what I might say” Crispin says. “Over time I’d got over certain blocks or preoccupations and so wanted to create something accessible and open hearted, which became a big driver for this record.” Pointedly self-titled to reflect the newfound confidence in his song writing away from the collective of a band, the album’s nine tracks are a warm embrace amidst troubled times. Musically there’s nods to everything from tropicalia and Brazilian MPB, to 80’s dusk pop balladeers The Blue Nile and Paul Simon’s explorations into African music. Lyrically aware of the snowballing turbulence that surrounds us, Crispin in reaction tries to see hope and looks around at the relationships and connections in his life that provide him strength. He opens 'Invisible (To Us)' with the words “Before the world did end, there was just one moment when, everybody thought there might be time, to look around again, to laugh to cry to sing.” Elsewhere, 'Listen & Learn' strikes at the heart of other underlying themes of the record, of the rarity of people opening up, taking on new ideas and allowing change. It’s accompanied with a rich, maximal sound palette of flute and sax that play around each other as Crispin’s vocal chips in with gentle encouragement. “One of the main markers on the album that I was aware of from the start, was to let myself express joy and positivity in the music” he says. “I have come to greatly prize the power of accessibility and universality over artistic 'coolness or trend', much in the same way that so often for me, the greatest pieces of art humans make nowadays are things like Pixar movies, with their combination of undeniable human talent and craft, alongside genuinely moving and accessible themes.” Indeed, there is a cinematic feel to much of Crispin’s own music, something brought over from his ambient creations – although his self-titled album possesses a panorama all of its own. Something like 'When I Reach The Ocean' has a hazy, pastoral feel to it like something out of the Canterbury Folk scene; there’s space between the notes though, which in turn pushes the track out to a greater expanse than the comparatively soft-edged and modest sound palette used to create it. Similarly, the likes of 'Effert' revel in the space afforded to them - in the case of the aforementioned in particular, Crispin lets his voice take a back seat and creates an open wash of sound that he allows the guitar to probe and explore within. “In making any music I am definitely conscious of trying to put in only what is effective” Crispin says. “It is so easy to clutter tracks without realising it, just having the ability to add stuff can just become addictive as it’s so easy to do with recording setups now.” The album started coming together at the end of 2020, with Crispin getting most of the songs to a concrete state, before starting recording in May 2021 with Diagonal bandmates Luke Foster (drums) and Daniel Pomlett (Bass), who put down rhythm tracks. Jazz saxophonist Rob Milne then added parts which would become the glue that held the whole organic aesthetic of the album together. There’s no doubt that lockdown played a part in proceedings, with a kind of forced focus resulting in a need for joyful expression. However, Crispin and his partner also suffered a bereavement which led to her travelling for large periods of time. “It was a very intense and difficult time and I think some of the intensity of emotion of that situation coupled with being alone must have inevitably contributed to the work itself” he says. It's perhaps why when even in moments of sheer happiness, such as the 'Sabu’s' breezily euphoric opener, Crispin ponders: “No-one really cares beyond this moment, and even when it's here, it's never here”. It’s the first of several bittersweet moments on the record that give the album its weight. On this new LP, Crispin recognises that sadness doesn’t mean throwing out hope, and that even in moments of joy there’s still a path ahead of you to take.

Debut solo album from the former frontwoman of The Total Bettys. Olive Green colored vinyl, comes with Download Card. Recommend If You Like: Tancred, Adult Mom, Snail Mail, Soccer Mommy Maggie Gently is a San Francisco-based indie songwriter with a fondness for wild schemes and intimate gestures. Her identity as a queer woman is important to her and the community she creates and participates in. Maggie Gently’s music is melody-driven and heartfelt — a big-city indie rock fascination with an unmistakable emo accent. Her songs are about how making decisions for your own mental health can feel like a matter of survival. Peppermint peers around the edges of trauma for a new glimpse at what growth could look like. With songs about eternal questions of commitment and love and the terrifying possibility of being vulnerable and known, this album is about trusting something enough to let yourself get swept away. The nine songs that make up Peppermint reinforce empowering truths that can be hard to internalize or say out loud. As an artist, Maggie finds inspiration in Meg Hayertz’ “Make It, Mean It” tarot-focused guided meditations, lesbian romance novels, and the Enneagram, almost as much as fellow bands like Snail Mail, Lala Lala, and Clairo. “’Steady’ is a sun-kissed ode to rebirth, driven by sweet acoustic melodies and Maggie’s soaring serene harmonies. As steady drums and shimmering synths join the mix for the chorus, the track gains a sense of resolute hope, as if emerging from the dark of winter into the light of spring.”

When the whole world collapses around you, sometimes the only thing you can do is stomp it all loose. Erin Anne's second album, the gleaming, electrified Do Your Worst, charts that uninhibited romp through disaster. Written amid the rubble of personal grief and professional disappointment, later exacerbated by the devastation of a global pandemic, the record deepens Erin's venture into the blur between human and machine, adding a new roster of digital instruments to the mix. Drawing on dark, glossy '80s synthpop as well as the unabashed bombast of bands like The Killers, the L.A.-based songwriter deploys a cyborg persona to articulate a feeling of displacement from the world as a queer artist struggling to survive the machinations of late capitalism. With bright, interweaving synthesizers and ripples of Auto-Tuned vocals, Do Your Worst poses a dare to the world: Whatever you have in store, I'll take it standing.

Erin began writing her second album not long after adding a MIDI keyboard and vocal processing hardware to her home studio setup. While exploring her new gear, she found that she could work in the same vein as the artists and producers she loved the most. Do Your Worst takes inspiration from the music of Patrick Cowley, the disco and hi-NRG producer best known for working alongside Sylvester. Erin was taken by Cowley's use of vocoder on the 1982 album Mind Warp, where his distorted vocals create a queer, mutant subjectivity. That album rang out against the cataclysm of the AIDS epidemic; Erin found resonance in Cowley's music during the present-day pandemic. "I have found the most catharsis and the most safety in listening to the music of people in really, really horrific circumstances making something lasting and profoundly beautiful," she says.

Throughout Do Your Worst, which was mixed by Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, songs like "Typhoid Mary" and "Florida" reckon with loss, despair, and abjection. "This Hungry Body" sears through pandemic-era touch starvation, while "Mirror Mirror" attends to the noxious but necessary funhouse of social media. On the playful, guitar-driven “Eve Polastri’s Last Two Brain Cells Have a Debate,” Erin uses the spy thriller TV show Killing Eve to explore queer codependency and masochism. Among these fraught subjects, Erin Anne finds opportunities for release. She stages internal conflict on a scale so massive that its details start to become clear; if they don't resolve, they at least become palpable.

"I’m very much a maximalist when it comes to production. I like vast landscapes. I like a stratosphere and a core -- I want the bass to be beneath the floor," Erin says. "This record is, in a lot of ways, a collection of some of the first moments that I was technologically able to achieve accurate renderings of how I hear my own emotional world."

Naomi Alligator is fed up. She’s sick of trying to make relationships work that have already run their course, and tired of sitting in a wintry apartment waiting for her life to kick into gear. On »Double Knot«, the modern folk singer/songwriter from Virginia attempts to unwind her life from all that is holding her back. In a way, it’s a coming-of-age record about shedding what no longer serves you and, ultimately, finding something like deliverance.

On the opening track, “Seasick,” Naomi Alligator is already in the midst of a sort of awakening. Right off the bat, she sings, “I don’t know what’s happened to me / It’s like I turned 16 / It’s like I grew to be 6-feet tall.” This is the announcement of a wide-eyed artist coming out of hibernation and into their own. Still, Naomi’s vocals ache with guilt and longing, belying the track’s playful catchiness. Longing for what? Maybe attention from a crush, but mostly a sunnier place to call home.

Naomi Alligator began writing Double Knot while living in Philadelphia during the height of the pandemic and the deterioration of a longterm romance. “I scream: How’d the hell I end up here? / I’m 1-inch tall, it’s crystal clear,” she chants on “Neighborhood Freak,” returning to height and size as an emotional barometer. When asked though, Naomi rejects the notion that Double Knot is a breakup album, or autobiographical at all. Moreso, she says, it’s a personal reckoning in which, “the minute before you make a big decision, you tally up the reasons why you don’t want to do what you’re doing anymore.”

That desire to turn the page expands to the production of the album as well. Naomi Alligator generally houses her narratives in beds of minimal, home-tracked instrumentation—influenced by the stripped-down poeticism of Joan Baez and Liz Phair’s Girly-Sound tapes. Double Knot finds Naomi continuing to hone the winning combination of guitar and banjo she established on 2021’s Concession Stand Girl EP. For Double Knot though, Naomi wanted a fuller, more dynamic sound: more instruments, more harmonies, more layering, more, more, more. Inspired by the impressionistic melodies of Animal Collective and MGMT, Naomi peppers in computer-generated synths throughout the album, most notably on the song “Burn Out.” These electronic flourishes augment the more grounding string instruments, arriving somewhere more ethereal than Naomi’s earlier work while still maintaining her warm songwriting.

If anything, Double Knot is a reminder that you can always pack up your bags, try something new, and change your life. As for Naomi Alligator herself? She moved west, to California.

Something's happening in country music. Newer artists and younger audiences are embracing instrumentation, vocal stylings and song structures long thought drowned in the ocean of slick, snap-track productions. Not easily dismissed as merely regional or a novelty throwback, the trend could be on its way to full-blown movement. If so, Kimberly Kelly's Show Dog Nashville debut album may prove to be the clarion call. Either way ... she's not asking. I'll Tell You What's Gonna Happen is more than her (abbreviated) album title, more than a reference to her connection with a Country Music Hall of Famer, and much more than a historical footnote. Rather, it's a statement of musical confidence earned the only way that happens: talent, work ethic, experience, vulnerability, and courage. For Kelly, it's all of a piece. "I like to think of it as a sub-genre of country music called 'country music,'" she says with a wink. A native of Lorena, Texas, Kelly has multiple connections to the Nashville industry. She has also been unafraid to defy convention. "This is not my first rodeo," she says of her label debut. "I worked really hard in Texas before I came to Nashville. I wrote songs, put out records, did a radio tour, and played every weekend while earning a Master's degree. They say don't have a 'plan B,' but I watched my mom struggle to get that next level of pay. My mom earned her bachelor's degree when she was 60, so school was important to me to know I could take care of myself.

Felicia Atkinson’s music always puts the listener somewhere in particular. There are two categories of place that are important to »Image Langage«: the house and the landscape. Inside and outside, different ways of orienting a body towards the world. They are in dialogue, insofar as in the places Atkinson made this record—Leman Lake, during a residency at La Becque in Switzerland, and at her home on the wild coast of Normandy—the landscape is what is waiting for you when you leave the house, and vice-versa. Each threatens—or is it offers, kindly, even promises? —to dissolve the other. Recognizing the normalization of home studios these days, she revisited twentieth-century women artists who variously chose, and were chosen by, their homes as a place to work: the desert retreats of Agnes Martin and Georgia O’Keefe, the life and death of Sylvia Plath. Building a record is like building a house: a structure in which one can encounter oneself, each room a song with its own function in the project of everyday life.

At times listening to »Image Langage« is immediate, something like visiting a house by the sea, sharing the same ground, being invited to witness Atkinson’s acts of seeing, hearing, and reading in a sonic double of the places they occurred. In an aching moment of clarity in »The Lake is Speaking,« a pair of voices emerge out of the primordial murk of piano and organ, accompanying the listener to the edge of a reflective pool that makes a mirror of the cosmos. "I open my feet to fresh dirt, and the wet grass. I hold your hand. You hold his hand. In the distance without any distance. The comets, the stars." At other times, listening to »Image Langage« is more like being in a theatre, the composition a tangle of flickering forms and media that illuminate as best they can the darkness from which we experience it. On »Pieces of Sylvia,« a noirish orchestra drones and clatters beneath and around a montage of vocal images, stretching the listener across time, space, subjectivities. Atkinson says that "Image Langage" is like the fake title of a fake Godard film. There is indeed something cinematic about Atkinson’s work—not cinematic in the sense that it sounds like the score for someone else’s film, but cinematic in the sense that it produces its own images and langage and narratives, a kind of deliberate, dimensional world-building in sound.

»Image Langage« is built from instruments recorded as if field recordings, sound-images of instruments conjured from a keyboard, instruments Atkinson treats like characters, what she calls “a fantasy of an orchestra that doesn’t exist.” And then, speaking of Godard, there are the monologues, operating as both experimental-cinematic device and a literary style of narration. Voice can be a writerly anchor or a wisp of a textural presence. Atkinson’s capacious and slippery speech plunges into and out of the compositional depths, shifting shapes, channelling the voices of any number of beings, subjectivities, or elements of her surroundings—not unlike her midi keyboard, able to speak as a vast array of instruments.

»Image Langage« is an environmental record, in the vastest sense of the world. It is about getting lost in places imagined and real; it registers, too, the dizzying feeling of moving between such sites. It puts forth a concept of self that is hopelessly entangled with the rest of the world, born of both the ache of distance and the warmth of proximity.

For Félicia Atkinson, human voices inhabit an ecology alongside and within many other things that don’t speak, in the conventional sense: landscapes, images, books, memories, ideas. The French electro-acoustic composer and visual artist makes music that animates these other possible voices in conversation with her own, collaging field recording, MIDI instrumentation, and snippets of essayistic langage in both French and English. Her own voice, always shifting to make space, might whisper from the corner or assume another character’s tone. Atkinson uses composing as a way to process imaginative and creative life, frequently engaging with the work of visual artists, filmmakers, and novelists. Her layered compositions tell stories that alternately stretch and fold time and place, stories in which she is the narrator but not the protagonist.

Erstmals auf Platte: Die beiden Alben 'Wood, Brass & Steel' (1976) und 'Hard & Heavy' (1980) und damit die gesamte Diskografie der Disco-Formation Wood, Brass & Steel mit Doug Wimbish (bass) und Skip McDonald (git), die später mit Keith LeBlanc die Sugarhill Records-Houseband bildeten, bevor sie mit Adrian Sherwood Tackhead gründeten. Angereichert mit 5 bislang unveröffentlichten Aufnahmen eines nie erschienenen, dritten Albums. Mit den oft gesampelten Tracks 'Funkanova' (DJ Sneak, The Bucketheads, Black Science Orchestra), 'My Lady' (Pete Rock), 'My Darling Baby' (Erykah Badu), dem Ronnie Laws-Klassiker 'Always There' sowie der Extended Version von 'Welcome To The Party' (bislang 12inch-only). Remastered von den Original-Mastertapes.


Wood Brass and Steel waren die letzte und berühmteste Hausband der von Sylvia und Ehemann Joe Robinson geleiteten Labelgruppen All Platinum und Sugarhill Records, doch dieses Album wurde nie zuvor auf LP-Vinyl veröffentlicht. Die Musiker nahmen die Songs "Hey That's What You Say" und "A Love of My Own" auf, und als das Astroscope-Label von All Platinum sie als 7"-Single veröffentlichte, wurden sie zu Wood Brass and Steel. Die Gruppe vervollständigte dann dieses Album, das 1973 auf Astroscope LP5002 erscheinen sollte, aber nie veröffentlicht wurde.

Die Besetzung der Gruppe zu dieser Zeit ist nicht ganz klar, aber mit Sicherheit gehörten Harold Sargent, Bernard Alexander alias Skip McDonald (er nahm auch unter vielen anderen Kombinationen dieser Namen auf), Herman Tudi White am Bass und Otha Stokes am Saxophon und an der Flöte sowie Randy Bost an der Trompete dazu. Doug Wimbish und Craig Derry stießen zu dieser Zeit zur Band und sind zumindest an einigen, möglicherweise aber nicht an allen Titeln beteiligt.Die Band veröffentlichte zwei weitere hervorragende Alben: "Wood Brass And Steel" auf Turbo von 1976 und "Hard n Heavy" für Sugarhill im Jahr 1980. Wimbush, McDonald und der spätere Schlagzeuger Keith Le Blanc unterstützten die meisten Aufnahmen auf dem Sugar Hill-Label und machten anschließend eine lange und erfolgreiche Karriere im Musikgeschäft als Plattenkünstler und Session-Spieler.

As the daughter of a blues musician, Chastity Brown was born with an
innate ability to channel complex circumstances into beautiful, uplifting
songs
But after surviving the isolation of the early pandemic and witnessing the global
racial reckoning that manifested itself in the riots mere blocks from her South
Minneapolis home, even she is surprised to hear the way her new album 'Sing To
The Walls' turned out. "It's a love album, in a way I didn't plan on," Chastity says.
Like so many artists who endured the uncertainty of the 2020 lockdown,
Chastity's instinct was to turn inward, at first out of self- preservation, and then
because the new songs kept coming and coming. Since finishing her last album,
2017's 'Silhouette Of Sirens', she estimates she's written nearly 100 new songs,
10 of which found their way onto 'Sing To The Walls'. Produced by Brady Blades,
'Sing To The Walls' is a sonically expansive album; it mines the roots of
Americana, folk, and soul music, but Chastity's stories are delivered in a style that
feels remarkably timely, modern, and forward-thinking. "I celebrate the emotional
richness in the tradition, but in my music I've committed myself to moving
forward and reflecting the experiences of those overlooked by tradition."
Chastity Brown has been praised by NPR, CMT, American Songwriter, the London
Times, Paste Magazine, and The Independent, among many others, and appeared
on the U.K.'s Later… with Jools Holland. She tours nationally and internationally,
having shared the stage and supported artists such as the Indigo Girls, Ani Di
Franco, Andrea Gibson, Jayhawks, The National, and Micheal Kiwanuka.

American jazz pianist Chuck Marohnic was in Denmark in the summer of
1981 on a European tour, when he recorded this intriguing solo album in
Copenhagen
Marohnic (b. 1941) has an impressive background having played with Ira Sullivan,
Eddie Jefferson, Richie Cole, Bill Hardman, Junior Cook, Chet Baker, Buddy Rich to
mention a few.
"The eight performances here are bright and absorbing examples of what
Marohnic means when he says that awareness of the harmonic permutations of
a tune gives a musician great freedom." - Chris Sheridan

Minru is the project of Caroline Blomqvist, a Swedish musician based in Berlin. Woven from light and shadow, the interplay of her folk and indie-rock blend appears from a personal space of finding life after death. On her debut LP »Liminality« she paints melody in soft tones, whispering secrets to navigate feelings of loss.

Built around winding layers of acoustic guitar, piano, and strings, Minru is a surprisingly uplifting and stirring testament to Blomqvist’s own suffering from the passing of someone close to her. Returning to Berlin from Sweden feelings of grief, confusion, and pain travelled with her, and these emotions prompted the journey both of and within the album, heard as a dreamlike actualisation of wandering lost between them. "I read that Carl Jung used the word "»Liminality«” to describe the psychological process of transitioning. I instantly felt seen; it reflected my own experience and the feelings I carried whilst making the album – a sense of the old certainties being gone, but the new not being quite there yet,” she says.

Defined as "the threshold separating one space from another" »Liminality« moves between feeling the ground beneath your feet fall away, fighting through the darkness and the doubt, and the emerging shades of hope and light as you painstakingly make peace with mortality and find yourself as a person again. "I am happy to have encapsulated this moment of time in sound," Blomqvist says, "it will always be there as a memory."

Flourishing from a preferred position of solitude, »Liminality« sees Blomqvist’s vision radiate with intensity from her home-based studio in Neukölln - a small, 2-room apartment with squeaky old wooden floors. Capturing the intimacy of the space, she recorded vocals and synth on gear partly borrowed from friends (to swiftly reunite it with its owners), and the songs flow with a stream of consciousness as feelings become entwined with melody. Time-restraint drew the process to a natural close, preventing Blomqvist from losing herself to experimentation. “Maybe I would have been stuck in »Liminality«, trying out sounds forever,” she suggests of the way ‘Into the well’s instrumental swims into a warm stream of synth pads. "It’s the cosiest moment on the album,” she says, “Cosy is a feeling I always strive for in life."

Finished and self-produced at a Berlin-Lichtenberg recording studio alongside musical friends (Povel Widestrand, Tobias Blessing, Sunniva Lilian Shaw Of-Tordarroch, Marlene Becher and Liv Solveig Wagner), the result is beautifully detailed and rich like the folk of her Swedish roots. First picking up a guitar as a kid and becoming obsessed with it, she would skip school to spend extra hours mastering the instrument, grappling to perfect the ‘Stairway to Heaven’ intro. “As a child I was fascinated by my dad’s acoustic guitars around the house and would hit the strings to make them sound,” she recalls. After attending music high school in Gothenburg and playing in bands during her teens, Blomqvist later moved to Germany. As well as enjoying walks at Tempelhofer Feld and coffee at Leuchtstoff café, she performed with Tuvaband, Adna, and Tara Nome Doyle and played in Berlin venues Loophole and Schokoladen, where music became her world. With the passing of time she felt a growing urge to find an outlet for her own songs; Minru was the answer along with her first »Yearnings« EP.

Now writing whenever she returns to Sweden, within the calm and stillness of her family’s mountainside cabin, her skilfully constructed arrangements summon the comforting atmosphere of home. “I hope listeners will feel inspired to slow down a bit, create, draw, cook something. Just be in the moment that is now.” »Liminality« is the kind of record that rewards attention. Give this album your time, it will give you its soul.

When words trail off at the beginning of claire rousay’s »everything perfect is already here«, ornate instrumentation is waiting to fill a void left by the breakdown of language. Yet it becomes clear as we trace rousay’s collaged sonic pathway that breakdown, of meaning and also of melody, is also a place to rest. everything perfect… is made up of two extended compositions that cycle between familiarity and unknowing. There are seemingly infinite ways to feel in response to these pieces of music, which shift tone across their languid duration, earnest like a familiar song but unbound from the emotional didacticisms of lyrical voice and pop form.

rousay builds a fluid landscape around the acoustic contributions of Alex Cunningham (violin), Mari Maurice (electronics and violin), Marilu Donovan (harp), and Theodore Cale Schafer (piano), whose respective melodies weave gently in and out, sometimes steady, sometimes aching, sometimes receding altogether in deference to less overtly musical sounds. That is, percussive texture in the form of unvarnished samples and field recordings: the rattle and rustle and the stops and starts of life unfurling, voices sharing memories nearly out of reach, doors closing, wind against a microphone. Everything comes from somewhere in particular, possessing the veneer of the diaristic, but sound’s provenance is secondary here and so these details become tangled and fused. On this release I hear such details not as individual ornaments or stories but the collective architecture of the greater composition. It’s an architecture that is not quite formed and thus full of openings out to the world unfolding.

“The world unfolding,” that’s a kind way of saying change, movement, loss, transformation. Things rousay here indexes, not without shards of desire or pain, still somehow what I hear is coarse peace in the in-between. These two pieces sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Where am I now? What is different outside of me? What is different inside of me? Um. I think. everything is perfect is already here, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

The music guides a certain experience of the world around. In claire’s music there is this marriage—not just a pairing or juxtaposition but an interrelationship, an eventual confusion—of song/texture, narrative/abstraction, figure/ground. Everything comes from somewhere in particular but not just the voices, the field recordings, the what is being said or meant, what matters is the where you are now. There are so many ways of anchoring oneself in the present, some have to do with fantasy or storytelling and some with accepting what is.

These two compositions find peace between these modes. They sweep you away and then bring you to earth, but which is which, anyway? Their mode of feeling is inquisitive. Where am I now? What has changed outside of me? What has changed inside of me? The music, like the answers to these questions, is loose and beautiful in surprising ways.

Club Glow co-founder Denham Audio is no stranger to linking up with friends. Running the label alongside fellow breaksmiths Mani Festo, LMajor and Borai, the rave-focused producer has established the imprint as one of a leading name in acid hooks, lairy basslines and whiplash-inducing breakbeats, and here - on Cheeky Sneakers - he readies the release of five varied cuts of lowend pressure and sky-high euphoria alongside Swankout, Thugwidow and Coco Bryce.

'Good Time' does what it says. A cut of happy-hardcore inspired breaks beamed straight from the Midlands; there is just enough headsy energy to keep the chin-stokers entertained, whilst inspiring an emotional, smiling release for those whose infatuations lie closer to ravey keys and Bangface Weekenders. Swankouts second collaboration - 'Keep On' - is a growling slab of screw-face electro and breaks, highlighting both producers' knack for finding the sweet spot between varying forms of UK music - fast, hardcore and dutty, it's a surefire party starter. Thugwidow is introduced on 'Testing My Patience'; the producer has been making a name for himself with some excellent releases on Sneaker Social Club and Circadian Rhythms, and here he and Denham Audio combine on a chugging steamroller of malfunctioning, soulful riddims.

It's a dreamy meet on 'Close 2 Me' - Coco Bryce recently collaborated with Amy Dabbs on an excellent jungle EP which received support from BBC Radio 1 and more, and here the Netherlands produce brings his native hardcore spirit to the surface on a pitched-vocal cut of jungle-techno.

Seeing out the release is a remix from emerging producer RAVETRX, who has recently enjoyed sessions on Rinse FM and NTS alongside Roni and Hooversound Recordings co-label head Sherelle.

Lush Fresh Handmade Sound and Mark Constantine are proud to unveil
'Life's What You Make It', following from the acclaimed compilation
albums 'Self Preservation Society' and 'Instant Replay'
This stunning vinyl triple album has once again been personally curated by Mark
Constantine, co founder of Lush and passionate music fan.It features 30 brand
new versions of songs originally recorded between 1981 to 1991, including some
of the finest pop, folk, rock and ballads of the time.
You'll find the familiar and the unfamiliar, unexpected collisions of styles, radical
reworkings and faithful renditions, all in celebration of a musical golden era.
Many of these tracks will have specific associations for each of us, but
collectively they formed the soundtrack to Mark's decade during Cosmetics to Go
and the pre-Lush Cosmetics years: "What I remember from that time is working
every hour God sent," he says. "We'd be waking up at 4am, switching on the
boilers and mixing up product as fast as we could. And there'd always be music
playing."
Compositions by artists as diverse as The Cure, Phil Collins, Tina Turner, Kate
Bush and Nirvana have been reinterpreted by a galaxy of established and rising
stars including Teddy Thompson, Eliza Carthy, Jackie Oates, Marry Waterson,
Stealing Sheep andHoneyfeet, many of which you'll found on Lush's bespoke Spa
Treatment soundtracks.
The result is a magnificently diverse, six-sided jewel of a record

BBE Music presents the first ever reissue of ‘Classifieds’, an ultra-rare, privately pressed 1985 album by Moonshine aka Monica Rypma & Friends. A naive and charming dose of dreamy DIY synth-pop interspersed with off-kilter, ambient interludes, original copies of ‘Classifieds’ are now almost impossible to dig up, but lately, thanks to the internet, the album has earned a cult following from music obsessives all over the globe. Created by aspiring songwriter and recent music-school dropout Monica Rypma, incredibly the album’s recording and production was entirely financed from sponsorship and advertising, way back in 1985. Inspired by René Van Helsdingen, the Amsterdam based composer, pianist and crowd-funding pioneer, Monica decided to sell advertising space on the album sleeve and name the album 'Classifieds', designing the cover to mimic a newspaper’s small ads layout. Written and recorded in only 5 days with René Van Helsdingen collaborator, synth wizard and multi-instrumentalist Brian Batie producing, the album was engineered by Wil Hesen at Studio Farmsound in Heelsum. With Rypma assisting, Batie composed and arranged almost all of the music on the spot, and lyrics were dreamed up by Batie, Rypma and Brian’s friend Jenny Garner. With an album full of music she could be proud of, Monica called in help from friends and family to print, fold and assemble the albums. “The original cover sleeve had three coloured bands; yellow, green or pink” says Rypma. “These were not different pressings, as most people presumed, but came from the limited budget that was left for printing. As one ink ran out, another colour was used, and this method produced the three versions.” Once copies had been distributed to the record’s advertisers and sponsors, hardly any were left. Until now, that is!

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.

“I’m closing a chapter in my life,” Barbie Bertisch says to me from a park bench in Greenpoint, “I spent the last four years working towards gaining confidence around my ideas and my creative perspective. This feels like a culmination of that process” The “this,” in question is Bertisch’s debut record Prelude, a collection of eleven songs that chronicle 5 years of Bertisch’s life. The legendary musician Anna Domino describes the record best: “Prelude is a record of layers and depths. The melting phases and soaring distances.”


Raised in Buenos Aires and Miami, Bertisch has called New York home for most of her adult life. When she started piecing together Prelude, she was in her Brooklyn kitchen. It was early quarantine. Stuck at home instead of DJing at clubs, she found the space to parse through the archives. What she previously considered unworthy of attention in the era of distractions, finally made sense as a whole once all the noise was turned down. Compiling a list of songs in various states of completion, Bertisch dreamed up an album, a chronicle in growth and healing frustrations of the past, an honest account of someone trying to find her own voice. That in and of itself was a journey. It took years for Bertisch to accept that she was an artist. “I felt like I was surrounded by men who ruled every space. I constantly felt like I had to ask permission to enter, always around bands but never the girl in the band” she says.


Prelude is an introspective record. It explores all of the valences of being and feeling. Some songs are chaotic and choppy. Others are soft and searching. There is rage and innocence, and moments of forced stillness, like capturing the aftermath of panic attacks, as in “After The Storm”. Bertisch also focuses on rhythm, bass guitar being her main instrument, and no stranger to the power of the beat. The record also draws on influences as varied as Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, Cocteau Twins, Berlin School, and pioneering producer François Kevorkian. Both sonically and conceptually, Prelude is a portrait of who Bertisch is as a person.“Is This What You Wanted?” is fiery, a pointed provocation to domineering figures from her past. It’s full of strobing, strident synths, and heady lines of bass. It gives off the same vibe as a fire alarm, as a big room dance track that subverts your expectations of what it means to dance in a sea of bodies. “28,” the record’s opening track is more peaceful. It’s all languid keyboard arpeggios with the occasional flourish of a cascading synth effect.


Since most of the songs already existed in some form or another, Bertisch’s job on Prelude was to refine and reimagine music that had previously been private. She spent time rearranging, rewriting, adding elements newly available to her, such as the saxophone, and pushing the limits of the rough mixes to mold the universe she envisioned. Along the way, Bertisch grew more excited about her abilities as a musician. The resulting record is one that is inherently confident.


Prelude is also a homespun release. It’s coming out on Bertisch’s own label, Love Injection Records, which she runs with her partner Paul Raffaele. The two also DJ and make zines under the name, which started in 2015. Love Injection is a love letter to New York. Prelude is a word of encouragement to those struggling with self-actualization. The record was mixed by Justin Van Der Volgen and mastered by Walter Coelho. Love Injection Records holds the remix tradition in high regard, and they’ve enlisted reworks by some of Barbie’s favorite producers. It’s all a labor of love for Bertisch. Prelude is her: Barbie the musician.
©℗ Love Injection Records 2022

Blossom Dearie was part of the NYC beboppers scene that often gathered at Gil Evans’ apartment, was in the social circle that began developing “Birth of the Cool” and at the same time was a fixture in the Jazz clubs of the 1940’s.

The legendary jazz producer and founder of Verve, Norman Granz, heard Blossom singing in Paris and offered her a contract.
She returned to New York to record her debut album produced by Norman Granz in 1956. The LP spotlights Blossom as a chanteuse and pianist.

Miles Davis once said, “she was the only white woman who had soul”, while Bill Evans noted her playing really “knocked him out”.


PLAYERS:

Blossom Dearie, piano, vocals
Ray Brown, bass
Jo Jones, drums
Herb Ellis, guitar