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Love Rudiments is a meditation by Ty Segall on his first love: the drums. Known popularly as a singing guitar player, he generally starts the recording of his songs by laying down a drum track. Love Rudiments kicks off with drums and percussion then adds a few other percussive and production aspects. It travels a great journey in this configuration. However, Love Rudiments wasn"t written or performed to present as some kind of solo drums album - it"s just another music album, with vibes (figurative as well as literal), feels, a theme and a through-line. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Ty"s made an instrumental album of percussive music that rides the wild surf of a waxing-then-waning love affair - from the first blinding look, to the eventual recognition, that look back at love"s rudiments, viewed from beyond and outside that seemingly infinite sensation And why not? Drums are a melody instrument too. Ty plays them with precision and sensitivity, delving deep into the textures of timpani, vibraphone, xylophone, percussion and e-drums, all of them occupying space within the luxe stereo spread of the drum kit. In the process, a psychological space is opened - a private emotional location where only two can meet. Love Rudiments reembodies the passion and compulsion that drives all of Ty Segall"s music in a suite of moments played on orchestral batterie to explore the most delicate passages of human interaction - playing on the bones of love.

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

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

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

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

Things are getting better is a bold statement to make in a time when the world seems to be on the verge of world war 3 and the cost of living is rising beyond most of our reach. Five years ago when I started the Voices of Creation with Jack I knew the world would need new songs, new mantras and prayers for this new day that is dawning. We would need more faith, we would need love, we would need vision, and we would need each other. A part of every beginning is an ending, this is an observable law of nature. So it is with unyielding faith and a hopeful heart that I look out at this world and find reasons and ways to keep moving forward with love; making music that echoes with the sparks of this new world I’m working to see come into view. Things may be falling apart, old ways of being becoming unsustainable; death, war, chaos, genocide, famine, and floods; symptoms of the internal combustion of a society wracked with fear and given more access to weapons than to their own feelings.

This collection of songs are my testimony in a way, a sonic exploration of finding my faith and figuring out how to use my faith to navigate life and this great big old world after losing family (my mother Betty and my brother Keith) and in a way losing my sense of hope for what my future could even be. Through the writing and singing of these songs I healed myself of the doubt and mistrust of the unknown. I found a way to forge my faith into what is now a mighty sword of song, community, and ministry with the intention of healing myself and others. I’ve always felt as though melody and language were tools that could be agents of change and healing if used with intention and integrity. To witness the expanding joy and shared purpose grow within the choir and to see the contagious nature of faith and togetherness through our rehearsals and shows showed me how necessary it is to the human experience. This has been truly revelatory, further anchoring me in what I feel my purpose is on the planet; and that is to sing and bring to life more joy, peace, love, community, unity, faith, and praise. With more of those energies flowing around the planet, things will surely get better and better and better…ad infinitum. Word to Nina, Jimmy & Betty, and all my angels and ancestors riding wit me. We still here and God is still good.

"An artist's duty, as far as I'm concerned, is to reflect the times." Nina Simone

It's already hard to describe what Deerhoof sounds like. So we'll skip that part and say this sounds a lot like Deerhoof with a different singer. And in keeping with 30-year Hoofian tradition, melodies soar, big hit earwigs abound, harmonies are complex, and keys change frequently and unexpectedly. Arrangements are in a constant state of impatient agitation. Emotions run high but delivery is usually a falsetto deadpan. We Sang, Therefore We Were is grief delivered in code. Greg plays everything save for a few birds who join in singing now and again. He keeps the instrumentarium severely limited, the sound shambling and anti-slick. It turns out Greg is a really good bass player and guitar player, if a bit more rudimentary and slicing compared to his Deerhoof bandmates. He does play more angry guitar solos. But don't expect another Chippendale/Saunier speed-drum freakout; the songwriting is gorgeous and sophisticated, and drums are almost an afterthought. Here, song is Queen. The singing is high and whispery, tending towards the three-part harmony. What we're saying is: We Sang, Therefore We Were sounds a bit like Deerhoof fronted by The Andrews Sisters. This is a peek inside the mind of one of indie rock's most celebrated drummers, many of whose fans may not even realize the relentlessness of his musicianship and compositional prolificacy. Mozartian chords and sounds insinuate themselves here and there on this record, finally taking over in a big climax at the end, when the drums break off unexpectedly into a laugh-or-cry orchestral outpouring that ironically may be the rawest part of a very raw album. "Satomi, Ed, John and I were chatting between shows in Austin in early December. They encouraged me to make a record on my own. With no one to please but myself, it came together way faster than usual. It was basically done by the holidays. I had been excited by the announcement that the new Rolling Stones record was going to sound 'angry.' I thought, 'Yes, I'm angry too.' But Hackney Diamonds turned out more like cotton candy than punk rock. So I went back to Nirvana. I always loved the catchy melody over massive distortion, the way their songs refused to conform to simple major or minor scales, the dark sarcasm which still resonates in this age of phony blue-check-washing of fascism." The album cover is all text, penned by Greg on the familiar topic of interspecies absurdist operatic anti-Cartesian revolution. The songs' lyrics are all drawn from this epic poem. White House spokespersons are recast as The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute, The Queen of the Night is recast as a mockingbird singing all night in a battle for survival, and ultimately the mockingbird is recast as a campy drag artist taking pleasure in her own aggressive, tireless music-making.

SIMON AND GARFUNKEL’S SWAN SONG: BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER FEATURES METICULOUS PRODUCTION, GORGEOUS SONGWRITING, AND HEALING SPIRIT
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Limited to 4,000 Numbered Copies: Mobile Fidelity’s 180s SuperVinyl 33RPM LP Plays with Staggering Detail, Clarity, and Definition
1/4" / 15 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe



Unifying, soothing, comforting: Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge over Troubled Water quickly became the album of an era upon release in 1970, the benchmark set serving as a beacon of hope and hymn of reassurance during a time marked by polarizing changes, social unrest, uncertain politics, and the dawn of a new era. These uplifting reasons — to say nothing about the gorgeous songwriting, meticulous production, and watershed performances — attest to why it is more relevant than ever in our current climate. Music, Bridge over Troubled Water simultaneously suggests and proves, heals all wounds and lifts all boats.

The seminal effort Rolling Stone named the 51st Greatest Album of All Time reaches illustrious sonic and emotional heights on Mobile Fidelity’s 180g SuperVinyl 33RPM LP. Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl and strictly limited to 4,000 numbered copies, this ultra-hi-fi collector's edition brings you closer to music that picks up where the duo's Bookends leaves off. You'll enjoy deep-black backgrounds and pointillist details. Seemingly every note, breath, and movement is reproduced with exquisite accuracy, clarity, and balance. Each rotation benefits from SuperVinyl’s ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition.

The best-selling record in the U.S. for several years running and winner of six Grammy Awards — including nods for Record of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best Engineered Recording — Bridge over Troubled Water endures as a staple of accessible sophistication, angelic elegance, effortless singing, unhinged ambition, and therapeutic spirit. While it would turn out to be the final studio set for a duo surrounded by creative and personal disagreement, Simon and Garfunkel's collaborative ethos and soaring harmonies — combined with reflective narratives centred on the American experience, friendship, romance, and farewells — combine to turn the 11-track work into a paean to resolution, reconciliation, calm, and balance.

Home to the legendary title track graced by Garfunkel's pacifying solo lead vocals as well as the equally famous folk ballad "The Boxer," Peruvian-based "El Condor Pasa," upbeat "Cecilia," and rock ’n’ rolling "Baby Driver,” Bridge over Troubled Water remains as renowned for its musical diversity as its lyrical poignancy. Moving beyond the templates they'd perfected on four prior albums, Simon and Garfunkel embrace a then-unimaginable swath of styles. Rock, pop, gospel, country, R&B, South American, and jazz strains course throughout the songs, each sparked with bold experiments yet grounded in a well-orchestrated melange of melody, rhythm, and classicism that makes everything personal, familiar, and warm.

Not for nothing is Bridge over Troubled Water one of the finest-sounding albums ever made. Featuring instrumentation helmed by members of Los Angeles' fabled Wrecking Crew as well as multiple choral and string sections, songs took hundreds of hours to complete and involved pioneering recording techniques. Evoking both Phil Spector's live"Wall of Sound" approach as well as inventive effects, Bridge over Troubled Water is a triumph of texture, atmosphere, and architecture. Our audiophile edition brings the record's unique traits to the fore.

Whether the reverberation generated by Garfunkel's cassette recorder on "Cecilia," echoing drums captured in a corridor heard throughout "The Boxer," automobile noises peppering "Baby Driver," layer upon layer of voices dotting "The Only Boy Living in New York," or echo-chamber percussion on the title track, details comes through with stunning accuracy, clarity, and dimensionality. In every regard, Bridge over Troubled Water exudes genius.

Another Michael's next chapter begins with Pick Me Up, Turn Me Upside Down, their new album due out this spring on Run For Cover Records. Following last year's sibling album Wishes to Fulfill, Pick Me Up is a more expansive output, patiently unfolding to reveal an exploratory side that brings new hues into the band's vibrant sound. Helmed by lead singer/songwriter Michael Doherty and producer/bassist Nick Sebastiano-along with signature contributions of multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alenni Davis, drummer Noah Dardaris, and longtime engineer/co-producer/confidante Scoops Dardaris-Pick Me Up, Turn Me Upside Down came to life over three years of intermittent writing and recording sessions that proved unexpectedly fruitful. The band decamped at Headroom Studios in Philadelphia, PA, as well as the same Ferndale, NY house where they made their debut LP, 2021's New Music and Big Pop. The songs on Pick Me Up, Turn Me Upside Down often take the knack for melody that defined Wishes To Fulfill and apply it to left turns like the hypnotic quasi-krautrock of "I've Come Around To That," the sparse balladry of the title track, or the pulsating synth explorations of "The Diner's Spoon." The album's world is weirder and more improvisational, like in the twisting ends of "Hub of Dreams" or the spontaneous performances of "Like I Won A Car"-but Doherty's warm singing and conversational lyricism always keep things grounded. On Pick Me Up, Turn Me Upside Down, the band didn't set out to capture the all encompassing, existential value of music, but they did contribute to it-offering more songs to the world, and with them, chances to create one of those moments.

Some songs are so ingrained in our consciousness that they are immediately identifiable upon hearing one or two notes. Featuring one of the most indelible riffs ever played, Foghat's air-guitar anthem "Slow Ride" is such a tune. The hit single turned the British band into stars and catapulted 1975's Fool for the City up the charts. And what a ride it is.

We hear a lot of yearning today about the good-old, glory days of rock and roll, the simple kind that just locked into a good beat, turned out a raunchy groove, and simply kicked you in the butt. The no-pretense type meant for kicking back, letting loose, and surrendering to the melody. Bare-bones music that doesn't need image or looks as a crutch.

Well, this is it, friends, classic meat-and-potatoes 70s rock that comes with killer slide-guitar solos, crunchy leads, driving rhythms, and soaring vocals. No need for any further instructions or explanations. The pact between artist and audience is understood. Here, the band trusts that you know what to do and is ready to rock out with anyone in earshot.

Pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's remaster of this Foghat gem bring to the surface the band's marble-solid sturdiness and bluesy structures like never before. Bass notes are thicker and richer, the dual guitars bite and snap, and Lonesome Dave Peverett's singing comes across with realistic grit. This LP invites you to hear and feel the energy Foghat brings to the boogie-infused title track, great cover of the Righteous Brothers' "My Babe," and, of course, the everlasting "Slow Ride."

Red vinyl, limited to 500 copies. Never Return is a fantastic successor to Vancouver based, melodic black metal outfit, Svneatr's previous album, Chinook, employing stellar performances all around that balance melody, fury, and riffs through its next-level songwriting. Seamless transitions between galloping riffs and blackened madness are nearly perfect, as well as its melodies and clean singing.

I Know I'm Funny haha is Webster's most realized manifestation yet of this emotional and musical alchemy. Continuing to bloom from her 2019 breakthrough and Secretly Canadian debut Atlanta Millionaires Club, Webster's sound draws as much from the lap-steel singer-songwriter pop of the 1970s and teardrop country tunes as it does from the audacious personalities of her city's rap and R&B community. The album began for Webster with the stirring ballad "In a Good Way," as in "You make me want to cry in a good way"_an instantclassic Faye Webster one-liner. It's beguilingly simple, the kind of melody and arrangement that seem to have existed forever. A sense of relief charges the neo-psychedelic pop of "Cheers," where Webster experiments with an overdriven guitar tone. She also collaborated, on "Overslept," with the Japanese artist Mei Ehara, who she calls the biggest influence on her new music. Webster's music is full of personality. Many of her songs contain bits of girl-group-esque talk-singing, which color her atypical storysongs. Webster says she's in a growth mindset, pushing herself to learn more, to be more vulnerable. "Growth is really important to me," she says. "I hope people will relate to my songs, and not just be like `this is a good record' but `this makes me feel something. This is making me think differently, this is making me question things.' I told myself a few years ago that I was going to be more honest in my songwriting, that honesty is the best route to take with music. If I have a voice and people are listening to me, I'm not going to waste it."

Leading Danish trombonist Lis Wessberg is grounded by the concept that a strong melody, and a rich sound are the two most important elements in composition and performance.A continuation of the refined contemporary answer to the"Cool Jazz" sound she"s been cultivating for the past 30 years, her sophomore album"Twain Walking" is set to release on April 12th onApril Records. With more than50 album credits to her name, and having performed and toured with renowned artists including Marilyn Mazur, Fredrik Lundin, Joyce Moreno, Kid Creole & The Coconuts, Ernie Wilkins Almost Big Band feat. Randy Brecker, and more, 2021 saw the release of her debut album "Yellow Maps"to critical acclaim from all around Europe. Diving deep into the personal exploration of her creative roots, "Twain Walking"hails from the warm vitality of New Orleans jazz, to the reflective hum of the ECM sound, and the boundary pushing songwriting of Radiohead. With a respectful nod to her influences such as Miles Davis, Curtis Fuller, Danish Erling Kroner, and Palle Mikkelborg, Wessberg operates within thetraditions they established. However, resisting producing a mere echo of the past, she cultivates her owndistinctaesthetic inspired in equal parts by her heroes as well as contemporary zeitgeist. Led by Wessberg"s dynamic trombone playing, her breathlike approach to the instrument mimics a lamenting human voice singing intricately lyrical melodies. Rock inspired drum grooves, thick synth timbres, and cavernous reverbs craft an expansive and dream-like contemporary soundworld in which Wessberg"s thoughtfully crafted compositions can unfold. From spacious,Nordic ballads todance floor psychedelia, the ensemble tackle all ten varied compositions with confidence, maturity, and a dedicated sense of self-expression. Featuring Estonian rising star Karmen Roivassepp on vocals, her effortless soloisticcontributions explore lyrical themes of recognising the beauty in love in life, elevating the record"s melancholic and reflective tone.

Nia Archives is the star at the forefront of the latest era of jungle. Since her emergence in 2020, her collagist soundscapes have helped bring the sound to a new generation of clubgoers (though fair warning: don’t call her a “revivalist” – she’s the first to point out that the scene never went away). So when it comes to talk of the 24-year-old producer, DJ, singer and songwriter’s much-anticipated debut album, the odds are you’re thinking of a full-length record of weightless jungle tracks with basslines so intense they’ll leave your ears ringing.

But the reality of the Bradford-born, Leeds-raised artist’s first ever album – while very much replete with that exquisite jungle sound she does so well – is also doing something a little different. On the thrilling and freeing Silence Is Loud, Nia Archives is looking to make music for beyond the rave. As she explains: “I think music can be experienced in different ways, and there’s different kinds of music for different scenarios. Say you’re at a festival listening to music with thousands of other people, that can feel really uniting. But then you might listen to an album on your own in the bus, or in a taxi; and this project is definitely more a record to sit and listen to than a collection of club tracks.” Nia is intent that Silence Is Loud is taken in as a full body of work of something “more song-focussed, putting interesting sounds on jungle.” It means that this is a record which finds gloomy Britpop, warm Motown, soaring indie, a love for Kings of Leon’s Aha Shake Heartbreak, skittering IDM, Madchester, classic rock, old skool hardcore and more, woven and fused into her ragga and junglist tapestry, all layered with feeling, imbued with her songwriterly lyricism about loneliness, relationships, family, navigating her 20s, and the intense potential power of silence.

The vast sonic palette on Silence Is Loud comes down to Nia’s broad array of influences through her life. With her Jamaican heritage, Nia remembers hearing jungle as a child via her nana, as well as at Bradford Carnival, where she was drawn to the soundsystem culture, dancing carefree on the floats in the parade. The first album she ever bought was Rihanna’s debut, Music of the Sun, and she also went to Pentecostal church back then, and was obsessed with gospel. Aged 16, she moved to Manchester, where she didn’t really know anybody: and so, her solution to meeting people was going out. “Partying was a huge part of my life,” she says, “They used to do little freestyle cyphers at the house parties and I would join in – that’s kind of how I got into singing.” She had found music boring at school, but in meeting all these new people she became interested in making her own music as a hobby. “I was making boom-bap kind of stuff which I didn’t really like in the end,” she laughs, “My lyrics are quite deep, so on a hip-hop beat it all sounds really depressing. I wanted people to dance to my music.” And so she began experimenting with faster tempos alongside that melancholy songwriting, teaching herself how to make beats on Logic: “It’s all been a lot of trial and error, really.”

Nia went to study music in London, and was also interested in visual art, making collages and VHS: “Before the music, I was trying to make a visual archive of my life and the people around me,” she explains, “And then my music was like my diary, and a sonic archive, as well.” Hence, she paired the word “archives” with her middle name, Nia. To this day, in her spare time she’s working on pulling together a documentary on the global nature of the jungle scene.

Back on those first two EPs, Headz Gone West (2021) and Forbidden Feelingz (2022), she honed that junglist sound, painting it with new flecks of colour and vibrance. It was only after she started releasing work that she realised pursuing music could be a viable life path for her. The decision has been paying off ever since. Nia Archives placed third in the prestigious BBC Sound Poll for 2023, alongside garnering a nomination for the Brit Awards’ Rising Star prize, plus wins at the DJ Mag, NME, the MOBOs and Artist and Manager Awards. She has also toured the world – be it North America, Europe or Asia – and even opened a show in London as part of a little something called Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour. She’s renowned as a party-starter in her own right, too, with takeovers at Glastonbury, Warehouse Project and her own Bad Gyalz day event. She’s done official remixes for the likes of Jorja Smith, had a huge summer hit with her Yeah Yeah Yeahs rework ‘Off Wiv Ya Headz’, and worked with brands like Corteiz, Nike, Flannels, Burberry, FIFA and Apple. In just three years, it’s fair to say that Nia Archives has become a need-to-know name in dance music.

But Nia is not interested in being one fixed thing. Building on the terrain from her third EP, Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall, the universe of Silence Is Loud is not totally unfamiliar territory; but it’s still emblematic of a bolder scope than we’ve heard from the artist before. Working with Ethan P. Flynn (the songwriter and producer known for his work with FKA twigs and David Byrne), the resulting record is an impressive feat of deftly-sculpted textures; sometimes big and euphoric, like the wobbly, lusty bass of ‘Forbidden Feelingz’, or elsewhere notably gentle and quiet – see: the gorgeous, surprisingly drumless ‘Silence Is Loud (Reprise)’, a heartfelt number that sits somewhere in the school of Adele. “I really sharpened my songwriting skill on this project,” Nia says, “I was really intentional about what I was writing about, and I really loved co-producing with Ethan. His process is so different to anyone I’ve worked with before, and he’s got a kind of DIY set-up like me.” Flynn’s flat overlooks the Barbican, adding that unquantifiable futurist urban quality that the area holds to the music. The pair enjoyed the collaborative process so much that the album was done within three and a half months.

Perhaps this is why Silence Is Loud maintains an exuberant immediacy while still being sleek and spacious, interspersed with flourishes of metallic beats, lush melody and topped with her sugary but powerful vocal, floating over it all. There is an intimacy to the record, perhaps in part due to Nia writing most of her lyrics while sitting in bed in her flat in Bow (once a bedroom producer, always a bedroom producer). You can hear it on the refrain for lead single ‘Crowded Roomz’, which finds rippling guitar lines cutting taut through the beats as Nia refrains: “I feel so lonely crowded rooms.” The song is an examination of life on tour, constantly surrounded by people, but not necessarily those she can be herself around; more than that, the track is exemplary in the category of sad bangers.

Silence Is Loud often finds itself in that push and pull between melancholy and euphoria. There’s a celebration of her unconditional love for her younger brother (the title track), a rumination of an evening with an Irish boy she met by Temple Bar (‘Cards On The Table), or a letter to herself on the light and airy ‘Unfinished Business’, even coming to terms with a lover having a past they haven’t quite processed yet (“nobody comes with a clean slate”). The latter was recorded the week after a music festival, and accordingly captures Nia’s vocal in its not quite healed, husky state.

Nia’s work is always a snapshot of where she’s at when she’s making it. This might not be the debut album you were expecting, but that’s what makes Silence Is Loud so special. Nia Archives has learned the rules of her sound, and is unafraid to break them, pushing jungle and herself into new, unchartered territories that, in turn, go some way to map the history of the greats of British dance music. More than that, it plants her firmly in that lineage.

During the 1990s Shizuka self-released a series of four cassettes, barely heard by anyone outside of their inner circle. Culling together live recordings and home demos, these served as companions to the scant amount of proper Shizuka releases at the time (including the recently reissued Heavenly Persona). Concentric Circles is proud to present the third and most anomalous cassette from Shizuka, simply titled III, on vinyl for the first time in an edition of 500 copies. Formed by guitarist and singer Shizuka Miura, alongside husband Maki Miura, who’d previously played with both Les Rallizes Dénudés and Fushitsusha, the group known as Shizuka started in the early 90s with Jun Kosugi (also of Fushitsusha) on drums, and a revolving cast of bass players, including J.J. Junko, whose sole recorded appearance with the band is here on III. Devoid of any of their trademark noise and bombast, III feel distinct from their studio and live albums of the era, largely due to its fragility; haunted and spare, the songs revolve around Shizuka Miura’s gentle, unforced sighs, and Maki’s flickering, flinty guitar. The first side of the album features four songs – “For You,” “Lunatic Pearl,” “The Night When The Door Opens” and “To The Sky” – which will be well-known to Shizuka fans from previous recordings, but the drastically understated renditions here are particularly moving for their quietude and intimacy. The second half of III consists of a side-long duo session, just Shizuka and Maki Miura together at home, circling around the simplest two-chord motif for twenty minutes, Shizuka singing the most heavenly melody, strung through the sky of this lengthy improvisation. It’s an astonishingly beautiful performance, one that stills time through its becalmed repetition, pointing towards the endless forever. In this respect, it feels like an ultimate extension of Opal’s early recordings, Big Star’s 3rd or even Galaxie 500’s quietest moments. III lifts the darkness away, allowing for a softer, more gentle Shizuka to shine through, bringing with it a side to the band that most never knew existed. A lovely discovery if there ever was one.

Plizzken are back in a big way with their eagerly anticipated second LP, Do You Really Wanna Know? These German punks' debut LP was the first full length where lead singer Sebi sang entirely in English. Since that album's release to great acclaim from the international street punk commu- nity, Sebi suffered the setback of a debilitating workplace accident, but triumphantly rose above all expecta- tions for recovery, making a hard-hit- ting new record with his long-running band Stomper 98 to boot! Returning their focus to Plizzken, Sebi and the crew are locked in and razor tight, crafting 13 brand new tracks of anthemic working class street punk that will thrill their fans while taking them by surprise. What will strike listeners immediately is a renewed focus on melody and hooks. In short, these songs are CATCHY! By the time the handclaps come in on the fourth song, "Memory Lane," you may just find yourself dancing around the room to these tunes. Likewise for the post-punk/new wave influenced groove that drives tracks like "I Don't Wanna. "Without sacrificing the realism and grit with which they face the world and sound the alarms for the working class to rise up, Plizzken sound renewed, positive, and keen to encourage everyone ready "TO FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT," as the gang vocals on "Mad World" put it. Although they are all punk rock veterans with decades playing music, Do You Really Wanna Know? has the energy of a hungry young band who are not about to waste a new lease on life. Combining street level punk rock 'n roll with a genuine pop sensibility and a rabble-rousing spirit, executed with the chops of seasoned players, Do You Really Wanna Know? is truly a record that will have old fans dancing and singing along with fists in the air, hand in hand with what is certain to be an army of new ones.

Emin's album Now or Never inspired by the late Elvis Presley. The album comprises of 12 reimaginations of Elvis classics and produced by 16x GRAMMY award-winning David Foster (Dolly Parton, Barbra Streisand, Aretha Franklin).

Embracing his lifelong admiration for Elvis Presley, Now or Never will pay homage to the classics we have all come to know and love. Emin has handpicked his beloved and most poignant 12 Elvis-inspired love songs and the album will include hit single, "Suspicious Minds", sentimental romantic Plaisir d'amour inspired ballad "Can't Help Falling In Love" and the iconic film title track, "Love Me Tender".

Emin says: "This album is a dream come true, I started my musical career listening to Elvis, and learning to write music based on what Elvis was singing. Meeting David Foster 10 years ago, doing a show with him and performing some of Elvis' songs gave me enough confidence to think we might collaborate one day! Now we've created this beautiful album together. David and I handpicked some of Elvis' best songs and I'm so grateful that he's taken on this project and made it as incredible as he has. As a producer, every album David touches becomes the artist's best work and he's done the same for me. This is the best piece of music I've ever done!"

FOLLOWING THEIR RECENT REUNION, THE DELGADOS REISSUE THEIR FOURTH STUDIO ALBUM HATE ON COLOURED VINYL AND CD TO MARK ITS 21st ANNIVERSARY

Ushering in a new era of emotionally vulnerable and cinematic songwriting for celebrated Glasgow group The Delgados, 2002’s Hate is the group’s most ambitious recorded statement to date. Recorded amidst a backdrop of personal change and international crisis, Hate’s internal alchemy transmogrifies darkness into light. It’s an enclosed universe full of tragedy and magic, a swirling galaxy of lush orchestration, misanthropy dealt with kindness and black humour. Above all it showed a band coming to terms with their fragility with a new power and grace.

In Hate, the band’s ambition saw them striving to reflect the breadth of human experience, both the joy and tragedy of living in tumultuous times. Initially commissioned by The Barbican in London to compose music for a film about artist Joe Coleman, the instrumental music that instigated Hate was laden with darkness from the outset. The Delgados’ worldview has always been informed by nuance, an oblique but incisive lyrical perspective but on Hate a new rawness is woven throughout the songs. Coleman’s original subject matter - portraits of troubled historical figures like Ed Gein, Mary Bell and Jayne Mansfield - influenced the tonality of the music but the songs were written against a backdrop of international tumult and personal life changes for the band members. Beginning writing sessions following a family bereavement in drummer Paul Savage’s family, Hate was then recorded while both Alun Woodward and co-singer/guitarist Emma Pollock were expecting new additions to their young families, the latter with drummer Paul Savage. In the background to the recording process were the attacks on the World Trade Center of September 2001 and their aftermath. In this context, it’s remarkable that an album was made at all, let alone one so grand and compassionate. It’s a masterclass in restraint and imagination.

Hate sounds like the world in all its ugly glory. Recorded in Glasgow and New York with Tony Doogan, Dave Fridmann and the band as producers and using over 20 additional musicians, Hate grabs the baton from the group’s breakthrough critical and commercial success The Great Eastern. Bolder, broader and more all-encompassing than anything the band had previously attempted, the album’s palette is furnished by a string section, brass and reed instrumentation, a choir and electronic elements augmenting the core group of Emma Pollock, Alun Woodward, Paul Savage and Stewart Henderson. Far from being over the top, the group’s skill is in attention to detail, in honing and refining each arrangement, allowing each element its space.

It’s a fine balancing act that pays massive dividends. Woodward’s new lyrical vulnerability is spotlighted on tracks like The Drowning Years, which throws elegiac string arrangements against the narrative of characters living in darkness, punctuated by couplets that bring a real-life documentary feel to the narrative. All Rise brings a black comedy to the idea of a confessional before a transcendent, choir-led refrain brings ecstatic resolution to Woodward’s vocal in its highest register. On the single All You Need Is Hate, Woodward’s trick of subverting the Beatles standard showcases the dark humour at the centre of Hate. Here The Delgados’ perversity is in full flow, nurturing a glowing light from darkness, the resolving melody and Fridmann production recalling contemporaries The Flaming Lips (whose Michael Ivins assisted in mixing) or Mercury Rev. The perversity is the surging serotonin induced by the group while singing the lines “Hate is everywhere, inside your mother’s heart and you will find it there. You ask me what you need? Hate is all you need.”

It’s a dark magic that pervades Hate, indeed it’s almost the driving force throughout the album. Flipping minor to major and back again, Favours is fuelled by fear and violence before blasting into the heavens with the gauche line “and you’re feeling fine,” operating in stark contrast to the verses’ tone. Album opener The Light Before We Land finds Emma Pollock in the aftermath of recent family trauma. Her vocal is effortless; a study in steady restraint against the massive, Fridmann-patented drum sound powering Savage’s playing and Henderson’s instantly recognisable melodic basslines. Coming In from the Cold is Pollock in full flight, lifted to the heavens by wide-screen, instrumental texture. Her presence on Hate highlights her knack for lyrical impressionism, the timbre of her voice lending itself to drama while always retaining a mystique. Never Look At The Sun, inspired by the Coleman painting The Big Bang Theory (itself an explosives-themed study), revels in paranoia, her performance ringing out in the eye of the storm conjured by the swirling arrangements. It reaches the peak of a redemptive arc while seemingly parodying the very idea of redemption.

Hate was the sound of The Delgados completely fulfilling their potential, a fully realised vision buoyed by the weight of coming through a darkness into light. For its 21st anniversary, the album is being reissued on the band’s own Chemikal Underground on coloured vinyl and CD. Hate is all you need

Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Presented in Audiophile Sound for the First Time: Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g SuperVinyl LP Plays with Riveting Detail
Three decades before he released The Philosophy of Modern Song — an insightful book devoted to 66 tunes that both impacted his career and the music world at large — Bob Dylan issued Good As I Been to You. The under-heralded 1992 album, Dylan’s first solo acoustic album in nearly 30 years and first all-covers effort in nearly 20 years, can be seen as a prophetic prelude to what has become the Nobel Laureate’s celebrated late-career arc. It’s also an absorbing continuation of the custom Dylan has embraced since he first picked up a guitar.


Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at RTI, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g SuperVinyl LP of Good As I Been to You reveals the immediacy, detail, and stripped-down nature of recording sessions that took place in Dylan’s garage studio in California. Simple, raw, and unplugged, the record presents Dylan in peak form — and showcases a diversity of vocal phrasing, soulful chording, harmonica accents, and close-up ambience that on this reissue emerge like never before. As the first-ever audiophile edition of this almost-lost classic, this LP also benefits from SuperVinyl’s extraordinary properties: a nearly inaudible noise floor, superb groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces among them.

Recorded and mixed by Micajah Ryan, and supervised by Debbie Gold, Good As I Been to You took shape at Dylan’s home shortly after the singer-songwriter completed sessions in Chicago with a full band. Unaccompanied, he again gravitated to existing works — in this case, traditional folk music — and, with Gold serving as a trusted advisor, performed the songs in multiple keys and tempos until he arrived at what he desired. That careful, determined albeit loose, organic approach emanates from this reissue, on which each note, movement, and space come across more directly, fully, and immediately than on the original formats. It helps draw a through-line to Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964) as well as the similarly themed follow-up, World Gone Wrong (1993) and immersive old-world storytelling of Tempest (2012) and Rough and Rowdy Ways (2020).

Well before Dylan made those renowned 21st century LPs, however, he needed to find a way out of a funk that — save for his 1989 collaboration with Daniel Lanois, Oh Mercy — followed him for years. As author Clinton Heylin reported Dylan admitting in 1997: “My influences have not changed — and any time they have done, the music goes off to a wrong place. That’s why I recorded two LPs of old songs, so I could personally get back to the music that’s true for me.”

Truth: Few, if any, concepts better encapsulate Good As I Been to You. It resonates with the same originality, honesty, resolve, and age- and time-defying relevance as the seminal Anthology of American Folk Music that fired Dylan’s imagination as a kid in small-town Minnesota and, later, per Greil Marcus’ That Old Weird America book, informed Dylan and the Band’s Basement Tapes sessions. This record also contains the type of music Dylan was playing during his acoustic sets at his period Never Ending Tour shows; within a year of the record’s release, Dylan would play half the album’s songs live.

As for those songs: Rife with strange mystery, common circumstance, and epic adventure, the stories appeal to our base instincts. Their themes — jealousy, temptation, sacrifice, love, revenge, identity, opportunity — operate on a fundamentally human level immune to trends, generations, or eras. They’re ancient and modern, serious and comical, open and disguised, simple and multi-layered. They talk of vengeance and justice (“Frankie & Albert”; “Jim Jones”), romance and tenderness (“Tomorrow Night,” “Froggie Went a Courtin’”), the troubled and trouble-free (“Hard Times,” “Sittin’ on Top of the World”). They lend voice to lovers scorned and freed (“Blackjack Davey”), the used and users (“Diamond Joe”), the powerful and powerless (“Arthur McBride,” “Canadee-I-O”), the followed and followers (“Little Maggie”). And akin to much of Dylan’s finest output, things are not always what they appear to be.

Spanning country, folk, sea shanty, bluegrass, and blues motifs, Good As I Been to You re-confirms Dylan’s position as an elite interpreter and sculptor — not of just structure but emotion. Dylan delivers the tunes as if he’s known them forever. He plays with a subtle sense of mischievousness and retains a largely upbeat demeanour; his eyes seemingly twinkle as he sings and picks. His guitar serves as the guidepost for shuffles, boogies, ballads, and mess-arounds while his innate feel for each specific arrangement and melody helps inform pacing, tone, attack.

Like a great author, he understands the importance of adhering to concision, luring an audience, holding their attention, and maximizing the impact of details, actions, and unexpected turns. Though already coarse and ragged, his voice feels ideal for the subject matter and his phrasing — from the clever ways he stretches syllables to underline meanings on the surprise twists of “Canadee-I-O” to the sheer delight he gets from singing “rowdy-dow-dow” on the protest song “Arthur McBride” — outstanding.

In this collection, Piaf presents ten characteristic chansons in English. Whether in French or English her command of her art and of her audience are equally profound, and these songs present a fresh approach to Piaf’s work. Her singing of La vie en rose has already taken its place among the classic performances; this presentation is no less rewarding, and, being in English, has a slightly different atmosphere. Similarly, The Three Bells, loses no part of its drama. Indeed, all of Piaf’s performances in this collection brim over with the fervour that she brings to her singing, the controlled intensity that pervades her work

Die-cut sleeve. In the fall of 2013 Bry Webb was putting the finishing touches on his second album Free Will. Released on May 20th 2014, Bry, with his newly assembled band The Providers, spent the following few years traversing North America playing clubs, festivals and storied stages such as Toronto’s Massey Hall. Nothing new for an artist who had spent the aughts in a constant state of motion with Constantines, a band who on average had performed one of every three nights on a stage somewhere in the world. In fact, running in parallel to Bry’s solo touring schedule was a reunion with his former Constantines’ bandmates to once again present their incendiary live show and celebrate the 11th anniversary reissue of the band’s Shine A Light. It is what happened as the decade wound down that seemed out of character for an artist who had spent close to 20 years immersed in the studio and on the stage: the music stopped altogether. Bry explains his feelings at that time, “I lost the musical plot about 5 years ago and stopped playing music entirely, sold instruments and recording equipment, and committed myself to the idea that I was absolutely done”. Webb dedicated himself to his ongoing work in community radio, months turned to years and musical life seemed to be all but gone from view. Now in an unexpected turnaround 10 years on from the recording of his last studio album, there is not only a return to the stage for Bry but also a new record. Primarily composed in a season of upheaval, Run With Me contains some of Bry’s rawest sentiments. Fresh and painfully present there is an immediacy one can hear as emotional walls collapse in real time. Bry explains the context of the album’s creation: “In early 2023 my personal life exploded. In the process of dealing with that, I started writing music again and started recording at home. Advised that I needed to figure out how to ask for, and accept, help from other people, I sent early recordings of songs to friends from twenty-five years of music making - many folks I hadn’t connected with in years - and asked if they’d contribute anything to the songs. People came through in ways that overwhelmed me to the point that I cried when I wrote out the list of players for the liner notes. I felt incredibly cared for. From Andy Magoffin, who recorded the first Constantines album in 1999, to members of the Cons, to my nieces Addy and Ella playing drums, and a doppler recording of my daughter’s heartbeat, the record is a document of my creative life, and the people who made it possible to make music again.” If the cover of Run With Me looks familiar, it is with full intent. The album’s technicolor marbling and die cut text serve to signal the inclusion of the album in a trilogy started with Bry’s first record Provider. Just as that album starts with the track Asa, this new one introduces itself with the instrumental Webb. The trilogy is now completed with his daughter's first, middle and last names represented as the first tracks on each of the three albums. While the LP’s package signals its place in the collection, and tracks such as Older Than The Dirt and What I Do revisit their predecessor’s familiar sonic starkness, Run With Me is the outlier of the trio. A number of new tracks forego the quietude of Provider and Free Will, clearly recalling the rallying rhythms of Constantines’ anthems. Thunder Bay (instrumental backing courtesy of The Harbourcoats circa 2009), with its insistent kick drum and wall of electrics, support one of Webb’s most indelible melodies, and the not so subtly psychedelic Modern Mind reveal an expansion of Webb’s palette. Perhaps the furthest afield is the contextual centerpiece of the album, Goodbye, where we not only hear a joyful voice that lay dormant for years, but hear it reclaim its power. Backed by Constantines’ Will Kidman, Doug MacGregor and Dallas Wehrle, Bry belts out “I’m through with all the rage, now watch the light pour out of me.” As with all of Bry’s work, Run With Me’s lyrics take their time to settle in. Songs of self-examination, reconfigured love ballads, and songs for those who work to help others. Songs of singing abound. It’s there in Older Than The Dirt’s second verse: "Logic to the last intention, logic in the way we kept holding on forever, singing as the floor- was swept”, ten thousand birds sing a warning song in Thunder Bay and again in Goodbye’s telling of a cathartic return to one’s true self with its celebration of those “Who sing - sing all joy - all joy of language, in a single word”. Joining Bry in singing Run With Me’s songs of “death, transition and hope,” are kindred spirits Jennifer Castle, Julie Doiron, Daniel Romano and Steph Yates. All of these singers elevate the album’s healing sentiments and help express the album’s central plea; a prayer of sorts wrapped in the traditional Scottish Gaelic melody of She Is Here’s second verse: “Let the sun rise in the morning and any witness bring. Let all the blooming cosmos teach us to sing”.

Limited to 500 copies ww. Independent heavyweights Spearmint return this year to follow-up 2021's highly acclaimed 'Holland Park', with the superb new album 'This Candle Is For You'. Spearmint have been making great records for a couple of decades now: this will be their tenth album proper. Still the same line-up: Shirley Lee (singing, guitar), Simon Calnan (singing, keyboards), James Parsons (guitar, bass) and Ronan Larvor (drums). This album will be the 60th release on their own hitBACK label. Missed out so far? The new album provides the perfect place to start! The dizzying multiverse of an album covers a wide array of themes, including the search for a missing sister, the ways we remember lost loved ones, Prince's encounters with Joni Mitchell, the story of John Gavin, the James Bond star who never got to make a film, late-night drinking in Soho, the joys of B-movies & video nasties, changing attitudes to mental health, the plight and wonder of older cats, the reaction to the death of Sarah Everard, and the afterlife. Re-united with producer Rhodri Marsden (Scritti Politti), the band feel that this record is their best yet. Singer Shirley explains "We started off just wanting to make an album that would stand alongside our last one 'Holland Park', but it ended up surprising us - we love it!"

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Tender Membranes, the label’s first release from Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electro-acoustic composer Marja Ahti. Active for a decade in the Finnish underground music scene, in recent years Ahti has developed a distinctive approach to patiently unfolding electro-acoustic constructions, documented on a string of solo releases and collaborative projects with Judith Hamann and her husband Niko-Matti Ahti. Working with concrete and instrumental sounds, field recordings, and electronics, Ahti favours neither disjunctive collage nor monolithic consistency; rather, her work is composed of organically unfolding sequences of details and textures, which, as she says, ‘can stretch out or cut fast as long as they have a sense of inner stillness’, a sense that she connects to moments of heightened attention in everyday life. Tender Membranes consists of four lengthy pieces, partly inspired by the image of the senses and mind as membranes allowing for the passage between inner and outer spaces, sensation and its causes, creating a world. Ahti’s unhurried pacing encourages this sense of listening as an opening or surrender to sound, which can often create the impression that the listener is moving through a space zooming in on details. The opening Shrine (Aether) exemplifies this aspect of Ahti’s approach: a bell clears the air with a single long tone, followed by the ambience of outdoor spaces, crackling electronics, an archival recording of a horsefly on a windowpane. Dozens of these moments, varying in length, density, and intensity, move past the listener’s attention, momentarily brought into focus then slipping away. Like those of the masters of the French musique concrète tradition, Ahti’s sounds are not often recognisable, though they might suggest proximity or distance, open environments or closed spaces, the urban or rural, day or night. In Ahti’s work, we do not encounter spectacular metamorphoses à la Parmegiani but rather a state of ambiguity where the listener is often unsure what is organic and what is inorganic, where the careful productions of the synthesizer might end and sounds discovered in the environment begin. What Ahti calls her ‘poetic way of experiencing and organising the familiar and the unfamiliar’ is sustained throughout Tender Membranes, but each piece has its own character. On Dust / Light, human presence is more overt, as what appear to be whispers, singing, and distant speech thread between high frequencies, untraceable drips and pops, and metallic shimmers. In all this there is a melody that you can sing and to which you may dance makes more prominent use of musical instruments, gaining a sombre beauty from half-buried piano chords and organ tones. On the closing Oh Fragrant Witness, a delicate cloud of subtly bending pitches is repeatedly disrupted by a resounding, almost ominous mass of low tones, at once a strange detour from much of what has gone before and an almost classical finale. Arriving in a sleeve reproducing contemporary Finnish photographer Sini Pelkki’s fragmented visions of the everyday, Tender Membranes is a balm to reawaken tired ears.

The unforgettable sound of Sarah Vaughan is captured in this collection of essential recordings. From the swinging hits, "Lullaby Of Birdland" and "It’s Crazy", to her best-loved recordings, including “Misty" and “Broken-Hearted Melody”, this album highlights Vaughan's impeccable phrasing, emotional depth and remarkable range. Whether backed by a trio or a full orchestra, singing hits of the day or jazz standards, every track serves to remind us why Sarah Vaughan is still known as ‘The Divine One’.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce its first release from celebrated London-based Canadian composer Cassandra Miller. Though her body of mature work stretches back almost twenty years, many listeners were introduced to Miller through the success of her astonishing 2015 Duet for Cello and Orchestra, which sets an imperturbable two-note cello part against a series of increasingly dense orchestrations of an Italian folk melody; in 2019, it was selected by The Guardian as one of the ‘best classical music works of the 21st century’. Traveller Song / Thanksong, the first release of her music on vinyl, presents a pair of compositions for voice and ensemble that exemplify Miller’s gently absurd, strikingly beautiful, and utterly unique work.

Like many of Miller’s compositions, these pieces originate in existing music. Traveller Song (2016/2018) begins from a 1950s song of an anonymous Sicilian cart driver recorded by Alan Lomax and Diego Carpitella, which Miller recorded herself singing along to, going on to then record herself singing to her own layered voices. Miller’s untutored voice is an unsteady, wavering wail that has, in her words, ‘more in common with a quasi-shamanistic keening than anything Sicilian’. Heard sometimes alone, sometimes layered, her pre-recorded voice is accompanied by a chamber sextet drawn from London’s Plus-Minus Ensemble. In the first section, Miller’s exposed warble is set to a spare piano accompaniment, somehow both faintly preposterous and magisterial. Following the voice note for note, the piano part often makes use of almost mechanical sequences of parallel chords, reminiscent both of Satie’s Rosicrucian period and the abrupt harmonic movements of a chord organ. The orchestration then opens up to guitar, clarinet, and sliding strings, a delicate environment for Miller’s voice, which, especially when it begins to be layered, generates a powerful sense of intimacy. In its concluding minutes, the folk roots of the original melody return in the form of a glorious full ensemble setting dominated by accordion, clarinet, and strummed guitar. Thanksong begins from recordings of Miller singing along to the third movement of Beethoven’s late quartet in A minor (Op. 132), the ‘holy song of thanks’ the composer wrote to express his gratitude for (temporarily) recovering from illness. Recording herself singing along repeatedly to each of the individual parts of the quartet, Miller created an aural score where each member of the string quartet listens to their own part on headphones, playing by ear. Performed on this recording by Montreal's Quatuor Bozzini, with whom Miller has a decades-long relationship, they are joined by the British soprano Juliet Fraser, who sings material from the Beethoven quartet ‘as slowly and quietly as possible’. The atmosphere of the opening of Beethoven’s Dankgesang, of hushed reawakening and thoughtful reflection, is sustained throughout the fourteen minutes of Miller’s piece, building at points almost to sentimentality before the five individual parts again fall back into a gentle burble of unsynchronised melodic gestures. Like Traveller Song, here the use of the voice is a long way from the mannered performance of much contemporary music, reaching for a human and bodily presence more connected to the reality of the everyday, albeit suffused with wonder. Presented in a stylish sleeve adorned with photography by Lasse Marhaug and liner notes by Cassandra Miller, this is a key release from a major contemporary composer whose work challenges and dazzles in equal measure. .

Buffalo Nichols sophomore album, The Fatalist, is in stores September 15. Milwaukee, WI-based Buffalo Nichols today announced his anticipated new album The Fatalist will be released on September 15th, 2023 via Fat Possum, and shared its lead single: a dusky take on Blind Willie Johnson’s original "You're Gonna Need Somebody On Your Bond." The follow-up to his 2021 self-titled debut LP for Fat Possum–a critically acclaimed record that earned him his network television debut on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, various major festival performances, and rave coverage via NPR Music (All Songs Considered, Tiny Desk (Home) Concert), Rolling Stone, Guitar World, Texas Monthly, and more–The Fatalist sounds unlike any blues record you’re likely to hear in 2023. The lead single’s video, directed by Samer Ghani, captures songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist Carl Nichols singing of salvation and relief in his soundscape that teems with the joyous claustrophobia of classic gospel. Sampled triggers of Charley Patton’s version connect the earliest blues recordings to the present, both singers’ voices urgent in their message. Nichols explains: “A traditional song made modern. Which aspects of ‘the Blues’ are essential? Is it a melody? A certain vocabulary? Delivery? Instrumentation? Is this still a blues song? And most importantly: who gets to decide? I tried to reimagine the blues with this song as if it were allowed to grow and progress uninterrupted, uncolonized and ungentrified.”

Emil Amos (Grails, OM and podcaster plus) decommissions pieces originally bound for the KPM library. A personal interpolation of "music for films (& television)" expounds upon diverse sounds: synthy 80s soundtracks, contemporary hip-hop beatmaking, ambient music, and The Hulk"s "Lonely Man Theme". Emil"s dark visions are full of noirish shadows and eerie neon glow - mood music for drug trips spent dreaming up new soundtracks to take drugs to! Emil Amos" forthcoming Zone Black album is a fully inhabitable world, its episodic narrative divided into an improbable balance between morbid ambient anthems and insouciant hip-hop instrumentals. Emil hadn"t heard it done quite this way before, so he took it upon himself. And it sounds real! Straight out of Madlib"s kitchen sink, and with a sense of brooding dread, "Jealous Gods" features throbbing beats, low synth paired with high vocal melody, layered together into something even more impossibly bizarre than the sum of their parts - like say, monks singing from on high, over a battleground littered with remnants of the old guard. Emil warps evocative tones, taking familiar sounds into new dimensions, reaching for the kind of depth and resonance that defines moments with an almost invisible touch.

Why fiddle and voice? They say the fiddle is the instrument that most resembles the human voice. It’s like I get to sing three part harmony with myself, preparing to be able to play the songs with others. I have played violin as long as I can remember… it changed to fiddle in college after being inspired by so many great fiddle players I ran into at camps and festivals. About a decade ago, when I first heard Bruce Molsky, I remember vividly listening to his album, Soon Be Time over and over, and then going down a rabbit hole to watch videos of him playing and singing at the same time. Then, as I saw others perform in this way, notably Tim O’Brien, Laura Cortese, it would continually floor me. The way the two voices weave as one. The threads of the double stops often accounted for two unique voices, lifting the authenticity of the lyrics. I could feel the lyrics, so vulnerable and exposed, cut through. I was scared to perform this way for years, finally giving it a go in a situation where I was asked to perform and my band members were unavailable. I have always felt that as a musician I want to have strength as a collaborator… Now I am realizing that requires a musician to be able to carry the song alone. If you can feel the groove, the chords, the melody and the meaning all at once, then it makes it easier for others to connect to the song, and lift it up. How is this album a natural progression for you at this point in your career? For years, I have been fortunate enough to play with some extremely talented collaborators. My hope is that never ends, and that this album gives me the chance to learn how to stand firmly on my own two feet, rooted in the song in my heart, calling in friends and collaborators with the resonance of my spirit as naturally as they appear in my life.

Borrowed Tongue is the debut solo album by Korean singer-songwriter Minhwi Lee. It’s a mysterious, strangely compelling thing, an album of rare poetry, and remarkably self-assured. Originally released in November 2016, the album made waves, winning best folk album of 2016 at the 14th Korean Music Awards. Its eight songs, written and predominantly arranged by Lee, don’t reveal their secrets easily, or at first blush; rather, they take their time slowly to unfurl in her listeners’ worlds. There are hints of other music here, from time to time: the intimacy of Stina Nordenstam, perhaps; the gauzy haze of Hope Sandoval, on the blissed-out pop of “Broken Mirror”; there are touches of acid-folk, and ECM jazz, and a slyly filmic approach to songwriting and arrangement that makes every song fit perfectly into the album’s arc.

Lee arrived at her solo music through a complex, circuitous route. After studying musicology in Seoul, she learned her trade, film scoring, in New York and Paris. She also studied classical music, blowing off steam in a wild punk duo, Mukimukimanmansu, who released one album, 2012, on Korean indie label Beatball. Subsequently, Lee has been refining her music, focusing both on her solo songs, and on writing for television series and films; she’s written scores for films by such directors as Sangmoon Lee, Jeongwon Kam, and Wanmin Lee. She also plays in the jazz outfit Cubed, and recently joined doom metal group Gawthrop on bass.

Since its release in 2016, Borrowed Tongue has slowly bewitched listeners with its idiosyncratic arrangements and evocative songwriting. It’s an album that hints at plenty, but refuses to make grand statements, something Lee seems intent to pursue: in correspondence, she’s very clear that she wants these songs to enact a kind of transmutation, to be adopted into the listeners’ lives and exist within their own imaginings. She does, however, offer a few hints to what propels these mercurial songs, explaining, “this album is about a person who again opens their mouth, which was once shut. The album deals with what it means to speak: things that are known but not said, things that should be said but are not, things that cannot be said but nonetheless are.”

This may well explain the curious mood of Borrowed Tongue, the multiple ‘voices’ that inhabit the album; Lee’s singing voice is pliable and mutable, approaching each song as its own diorama and ensuring the song is sung with just the right tone. The arrangements Lee conjures for her songs are all in service to narrative and melody; they appear to her alongside the composition, which is surely why everything here fits together so beautifully. From there, Lee approaches her songs carefully, in deference to their ‘need to be sung’ a certain way. There isn’t a moment wasted: everything on Borrowed Tongue is as it needs to be, whether a melancholy folk song taking to the air, or a psychedelic reverie dreamed into being. It’s a beautiful, poised and confident debut.

Tineke Postma, a highly acclaimed bandleader, composer, and saxophonist, is set to release her eagerly awaited 8th album "Aria" in May 2023 via Edition Records. Aria reflects Tineke's personal musical journey since the release of her "Freya" album in February 2020. The album features new compositions, including pieces inspired by the Bimhuis Composition Assignment 2021 she worked on during the COVID-19 pandemic. The title "Aria" represents Tineke's passion for incorporating breath and space in her music, which is more important than ever in today's world. It also signifies melody, a musical form central to opera, a genre Tineke holds dear and is influenced by, particularly the singing of Maria Callas.

A cult icon on the international film scene, Japanese actress Meiko Kaji, born in Tokyo, has been put into the spotlight internationally by Quentin Tarantino when he heavily based his Kill Bill film on the 1973 revenge genre film 'Lady Snowblood,' one of Kaji's most famous films. By the time she appeared in it, she had already made almost fifty feature films (she began her career in 1965) among which the cult 'Stray Cat Rock' and 'Female Prisoner Scorpion' film series and she was one of the most famous exploitation actresses in Japan doubling as a sex symbol. This gave the studios the idea of getting her to start a singing career and release music closely associated with the films she starred in often singing the theme songs. Thus she began releasing records at the dawn of the 70s, recording several 7" singles and five albums for Teichiku which have become sought-after and almost as cult as her films.
Drawing on her film roles, the music on these albums were an uber-cool mix of kayokyoku (Japanese Pop), traditional Enka Music, Acid Folk and Funky beats arranged by the best producers of the time in a cinematic way that could sound like Ennio Morricone or Jean-Claude Vannier. that explosive cocktail is featured in full blow on the first album from the Meiko Kaji reissue program, 'Hajiki Uta' released by Teichiku in 1973.
The album featured two film songs, namely 'Urami Bushi' used for the film series "Female Prisoner Scorpion" and 'Onna No Jumon' featured in the film 'Female Prisoner Scorpion - Jailhouse 41,' which have been composed by Shunsuke Kikuchi who also composed the score for these films. At first Kaji was unsure of her singing talents as told to Hashim Bharoocha in an interview but she quickly rose to the challenge: "I told Shunsuke Kikuchi that I couldn’t imagine myself singing the songs. He said I could ignore the melody that he wrote, and just sing it the way I wanted to. That really lifted the pressure off my shoulders, and I decided to sing the song as the character in the film. The director was also happy with that idea.”
The rest of the album follows the same pattern with atmospheric songs such as "Onna Hagure Uta" or "Onna Somuki Uta" displaying Meiko's sombre singing over a superb slow-burning groove, which precedes the funkier "Hitori Kaze" featuring a wah wah guitar, a breakbeat-like rhythm section and slick string arrangement, shaping the unique Meiko Kaji signature sound.
Wewantsounds is delighted to reissue "Hajiki Uta" and the rest of Meiko Kaji superb early 70s albums for the first time in fifty years in their glorious original Japanese artwork, with remastered audio, cementing further the actress' reputation as a true international pop culture icon.

New INDEX:Records transmission comes courtesy of Texan vibist Gi Gi. Trodding his own path of introspective, nu-age-infused ambient scapes and trip-hop-laced downtempo divagations, Gi Gi eases us in a distinctively soothing headspace. A self-driven, immersive audio bubble engineering a polychromatic mix of organic field-recording, exotic dub shades, lushly textured envelopes and smooth loungey jazz accents.

From the A1, “The Lower”, a steady-churning combo of retro-stepping UK dynamics, 90s-schooled atmospheric dub and low-slung, LA beat-style swagger, down to the verbed-out summer pop of “Sinews” featuring Hysterical Love Project, Gi Gi puts on a riveting synthesis of seemingly distant varietals.

On “Maiolica”, the mystique-imbued power of drums and shadowiness of the bass collides with the faux-organic vibrancy of singing robot birds; “Pyxis Glint” shows off an ambiguously feverish ASMR-like temper with its tightly woven web of chimey Andean melody and straight out Rephlex-fashioned escapism, whereas “Palm Slick” heads for further exhilarating heights through Hassellian brass flights a la “Blues Nile" and breaksy off-piste, all set at buckling a few knees along the way.

A full-fledged, soulful trip-hop number disguised in matching neo-vintage camo, “Lilted Song” treats us to a fulfilling blend of bleached pads and FX-laden slo-mo percussions swaying with a strong couldn’t-give-a-damn attitude. Gi Gi coming up with the mind trip.

Tom Zé and Faust collide in Domenico Lancellotti's "machine samba"

Domenico Lancellotti's SRAMBA reaches back to the roots of samba whilst completely revamping its blueprint, indoctrinating guitar and percussion-led rhythms with analogue synthesisers, courtesy of album producer Ricardo Dias Gomes.

The majority of SRAMBA was recorded over two months in The Cave - Domenico's home studio in Lisbon, the city both Brazilian ex-pats reside in, where the arrival of a couple of Russian-designed synths purchased by Ricardo influenced the direction of their initial experimentation: "Ricardo had these instruments, modular machines" remembers Domenico, "and I had my guitar, some percussion instruments. On the first day we started making sounds and recording them, and songs started to appear, sambas started to appear."

The son of a renowned samba songwriter, at home Domenico would watch his father play and compose. At parties, the adults would hand his father a tamborim (a small tambourine) and ask him to play along. "I grew up inside samba, it's my roots", he says. "For me, everything is samba, I bring it into whatever style of music I am making".

Domenico and Ricardo instantly saw how the synthesisers were not at odds with the sambas they were playing, instead they had a similar sound to its typical percussion instruments (ganza, repinique, surdo, tarol). What's more, they saw a connection with roots samba, the samba that existed before bossa nova and samba jazz came along. This was rhythmic samba, with grooves that could go on ad infinitum. "It's samba de clave, geometrically structured" says Domenico. "It's ostinato samba", adds Ricardo.

"Diga" is a great example of what their proposal is capable of, as what begins as a glitchy machine whirring into action soon turns into a glorious samba in which the gurgles and scratchy beats coming from the analogue equipment only add to the arrangement. Likewise, on "Tá Brabo" it's an aching melody from one of the synths that gives the guitar rhythm its needed counterpoint, and shows how the duo's greatest accomplishment is not in invention alone, but in creating a great samba album. It's an album that can go from the opening track "Ere" with its reverberant bass thud, mantra-like vocals and staccato rhythms to the string-accompanied "Nada Sera de Outra Maneira", a swooning samba that pays tribute to the Brazilian ensemble Tamba Trio, who along with Tom Zé's Estudando O Samba, Domenico names as the biggest influence on their treatment of samba.

Other important reference points are made clear on "Um Abraço No Faust". One of three instrumentals on the album its title riffs off a JoãoGilberto song, "Um Abraço no Bonfá", but whereas JoãoGilberto was giving a hug (um abraço) to bossa nova guitarist Luiz Bonfá, Domenico and Ricardo are giving theirs to the German avant-gardists Faust. "Quem Samba", with its horn section and dramatic melody give a whiff of Domenico's Italian ancestry, while "Descomunal" is devoid of rhythm whatsoever, guest vocalist Tori singing over a bed of electronic drums, cello and swirling synths, that highlights the duo's unwillingness to stick to a particular formula.

Both Domenico Lancellotti and Ricardo Dias Gomes are revered names within Brazilian music over the past 20 years. As a member of the +2's, with Moreno Veloso and Kassin, Domenico released a trio of albums on Luaka Bop in the early 00s that pioneered a new Rio samba sound with elements of funk and psychedelia. With Veloso and Kassin he would later form Orquestra Imperial, a big band intent on reviving ballroom (gafieira) samba, and that has worked with guest vocalists such as Seu Jorge, Elza Soares and Ed Motta. SRAMBA is his fourth solo album. Multi-instrumentalist Ricardo Dias Gomes first came to notice as a member of Caetano Veloso's band Cê which helped reinvigorate Caetano's career with a sound influenced by British new wave. As well as collaborations with Lucas Santtana, Negro Leo and Thiago Nassif, and work with his own group Do Amor, he has released a series of acclaimed solo albums that reveal a restless music-maker.

SRAMBA is a glorious showcase of the duo's style, uniting Domenico's playful lyrics and rhythmic, samba-rooted songs with with Ricardo's assured accompaniment of unorthodox textures and instrumentations. It may be a new language for samba, machine samba (samba de máquina), but as Domenico says, "samba da máquina is samba".

Clear Vinyl

For polymath artist Wesley Joseph, writing a song is like shooting a film. He sees in terms of scenes and colors, lighting the proper mood, drawing the right emotional arc_far beyond just getting a catchy melody down on tape. Music and filmmaking are Joseph's two great loves. Film came first_he started making DIY videos at age 12 to entertain himself and his friends growing up in a small UK community_but when he moved to London to study it, the energy he discovered in the city demanded to be captured in song, resulting in his 2021 debut ULTRAMARINE, a distinctly cinematic collection of avant-R&B and soulful future-pop shot through with moments of surprising aggression and an intriguingly complex postmillennial aura. Since collaborating with the likes of Jorja Smith and Loyle Carner, he returns with GLOW, eight more songs of love, loss, anxiety, and joy about coming of age at a time of unprecedented change. Showcasing his range across songwriting, performing, and production_not to mention his flawless transitions between singing and rapping, between character studies and raw emotional honesty_it's a stunningly beautiful work that makes it clear Joseph's on the path to becoming a worldchanging talent. As on previous projects, Joseph is providing his own visual accompaniments for GLOW, creative directing its artwork and directing its first video. "COLD SUMMER" finds Joseph singing from a supervillain's perspective over woozy film-score strings, and the concept bleeds over into its video accompaniment, a cryptic post-post-Tarantino gangster comedy shot in Kazakhstan. It's usually hyperbole to call an artist as young and new as Joseph "visionary," but it's undeniable that he has a vision, one that transcends old ideas of genre and medium, one that seems to get bigger and richer every time he steps into a studio or behind a camera. GLOW is one of the deepest and most satisfyingly cinematic listening experiences of the year_and Wesley Joseph is just getting started.

The fifth release on Blue Matter is a debut album from a guy whose performance and writing would easily give the impression that he is a seasoned campaigner. The confidence and the musicality are of a standard rarely heard. Michael Cullen Murphy was born and raised in Nashville, and moved to the UK when he was 11. His father was friends with the great Peter Rowan and many other country and folk artists, and since childhood, understandably, Mike has been dabbling in folk and country. However, Mike is better known as a reggae specialist, and has kept his special musical talents extremely quiet. Even though we had been friends with Mike for years, we had no idea he was an accomplished singer, player and songwriter, which is why we were so amazed when he played us the almost completed album. Not only does he have a great singing voice, but his songs have an impressive depth and sense of melody. If one had to put some kind of label on the music contained within this record, it would probably contain the words 'Americana' and 'folk’, but that doesn't tell the whole story. There are touches of classic singer/songwriter and psychedelia too. Suffice to say, you need to give it a listen and decide for yourself. Blue Matter are really proud to be able to release this fabulous debut album. We think Mike Murphy certainly has all the necessary credentials to make his mark. Will it happen? Who knows? Your call, folks.

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

Yellow and black splatter

While frontman Tom Greenhouse’s off-kilter observations and bizarro anecdotes remain front and centre, this time round the band up their game with a more vigorous sound that keeps pace with Greenhouse’s wholly distinctive lyrical style. Greenhouse continues to revel in telling increasingly surreal short stories, rejoicing in the power of the deadpan one-liner and bedecking his songs with far-flung cultural references. But now the band employ a variety of techniques with improved pro- duction, from the impulsively bashed keyboards and jubilantly repetitive guitar stabs that have be- come their trademark, to flirtations with–heaven forbid!–melody, chord progressions and arrangements which elevate their tried-and-tested blueprint into a more exciting and cohesive whole.

Opener Musicians is the perfect embodiment of this conscious development. Here, Greenhouse re- counts a sarcastic tale of half-truths that see him galavanting around town trying to put a band to- gether. Sonically, it begins with a caustic callback to the group’s first EP Crap Cardboard Pet and its über-minimalist aesthetic. But by the end of the song a joyous festival of afrobeat-inspired in- struments including samba whistles, bongos and saxophones are added to the mix as the front- man, ironically, fails in his mission to recruit more players.

With Get Unjaded, the band have somehow conjured something close to pop, without abandoning the repetition and wit that’s relished by their early fans. I Lost My Head also adopts a jangle-pop sheen with a luscious synth melody, as the frontman ditches the spoken-word for a surly croon (his first known attempt at actual singing!) that provides a welcome breather from the onslaught of dense recantations that are the band’s bread-and-butter.

While the lyrics here are still often humorous and political, Greenhouse has also notably expanded his interests on this album to include a new host of topics. The influence of extraterrestrials, for ex- ample, infiltrates the subject matter frequently. On The UFOs, the mysterious protagonist Blinkus Booth’s isolationist lifestyle is apparently interrupted by the spectres of otherworldly visitors, while closer The Neoprene Ravine feels like an extract from a deep space rock opera. Here, jaunty and angular instruments pile-on as we are fed images of an interstellar Spinal Tap, the titular fictional band “The Neoprene Ravine” who are “the alien equivalent of the Velvet Underground” and include an alien Lou Reed yelping “too busy sucking on my little green ding dong!”.

Meanwhile, Hard Rock Potato is propelled by a vortex of keys and synths, a real noise-pop gem comprised of real guitar chords (!) and rock-orientated riffs. Here the stream-of-consciousness lyrics take shots at the sinister financial industry, and include one of the many top-tier one-liners on the album: “It’s not gambling if you’re wearing a tie (even if you’ve got no trousers on)”.

On Sod’s Toastie, The Cool Greenhouse have pushed their distinctive flavour of post-punk to the point of perfection – their incongruous riffs, alchemical instrumental chemistry, and irreverent spo- ken-word vocals are a delight throughout. Sod’s Toastie is hilarious at times, and at others just hilariously good – a not-so-difficult second album.

Black Truffle is pleased to announce Uri Katzenstein’s Audio Works, produced in collaboration with Holon’s Centre for Digital Art. Spanning sculptural installation, performance, video art, and many other media, Katzenstein’s absurdist, poetic, and often hilarious work made extensive use of sound and music. This, however, is the first release dedicated to the artist’s audio work, collecting 28 tracks produced between the early 1980s and 2017. Compiled from dozens of hours of recordings left uncatalogued (and in some instances unheard) at the artist’s death in 2018, these four sides are a treasure trove, offering a captivating glimpse into a uniquely uninhibited creative practice. Predominantly recorded alone, with some contributions from regular collaborators such as Ohad Fishof on the later pieces, many of these tracks stem from Katzenstein’s time living in New York in the 1980s. Feeding on the cross-pollination of post-punk energy, radical art practice, and new media possibilities that characterised the New York scene at this time, many of Katzenstein’s recordings squeeze multilayered vocal experimentation into synth-based miniatures with a distinctively pop twist, their forms ruptured with anarchic bursts of free-form electronics, sounds from self-built instruments, and field-recorded snatches of the outside world. Katzenstein’s electronic production calls up touchstones of skewed 80s art pop like Laurie Anderson, Ambitious Lovers, and Scritti Politti, but imbued with DIY directness and economy of means. The arrangements of synths, percussion, and noise elements are invigoratingly raw and, at times, almost austerely minimal. On ‘Intermission’, thick distorted chords accompany a wandering portamento melody, inhabiting the wayward carnival space of Roedelius’ most unhinged efforts. Many of the tracks centre on Katzenstein’s multi-tracked vocal performances, often moving between multiple languages, (most commonly English, German, French, and Hebrew). A bewildering range of vocal approaches are present on these pieces, from sweet wordless harmonies to hammed-up growls and monastic recitations. On ‘Skin O. Daayba – Complex Habits no. 3’, improvised resonance singing against a backdrop of echoing electronics and radio snatches. ‘Half Monk Half Herring’ layers multi-lingual syllabic fragments, crossing sound poetry techniques with melodic invention in a way rarely heard outside of Caetano Veloso’s Araçá Azul. On ‘Attempt to Raise Hell’, Katzenstein’s distorted voice spits out streams of alliterative nonsense (‘the hemlock of Henry, he was a hermit…purple pumpkin pulsates to pops’), while on the hilarious ‘Eric’, Katzenstein appears to instruct a small boy simultaneously in basic French and German conversation. On ‘Chicken’, vocal harmonies accompany the pecking and clucking of the titular fowl. Moving from bent, outsider synth pop to snatches of Jo Jones-esque automated instrumental clang and absurdist linguistic experiments, these are far more than footnotes to an artist’s gallery works. Accompanied by extensive, beautifully written liner notes by Roee Rosen and the little information that exists on the individual tracks, Katzenstein’s Audio Works inhabits an outer fringe of DIY pop and sonic experiment reminiscent of Pascal Comelade or Die Welttraumforscher, where accessible forms convey radical interrogations of song, word, and sound.

After a 2 year hiatus, Madam X's KAIZEN imprint comes back full force, with an upgraded aesthetic and brand new wave of leftfield, off-kilter club music. KZN009 sees one of Manchester's most exciting up & coming producers, Cartridge, mark his debut with a fierce 2 tracker, loaded with soundsystem pressure and gully 130 artillery in the Banada EP. Melodic Grime, moody Dubstep, and sub-heavy textures sprinkle this wobby release, designed for dark rooms, splintered basements and heavy soundsystems. With an impressive back catalogue on Deep Dark & Dangerous, Albion Collective & one half of Regents alongside Manchester kingpin Strategy (Broke'n'£nglish), Cartridge is no stranger to the UK's burgeoning bass music scene.

On the A side, we have Banada, a melodic eastern-flavoured instrumental, with elements of Grime and Dubstep carrying the tune to its arpeggiated crescendo.

A singing voice and raspy melody build the tension before a heavily distorted switch up catches you off guard, leading you further down a Dubstep rabbit hole, and into a world of shady and sinister drops, sitting perfectly alongside the label's strictly hoods-up, heads-down tip.

Teaming up with KAIZEN heavyweight and local scene hero Biome on the B-Side, Ricky Rosé has proved a firm favourite for those peak-time, no-holds-barred, bass-in-your-face, power hour moments. Relentless in its metallic bassline and thumping 808 drums, this explosive club tool comes with a solid side-serving of gunfingers and screwfaces.

Isokratisses (Greek for "women who sing the "iso" or "drone") is a vocal ensemble comprised of eight women who carry the ancient tradition of polyphonic songs from Epirus: a region in northern Greece and southern Albania. Born and reared in the Greek speaking villages around Deropoli and Politsani in Albania, the women of Isokratisses have sung these songs since childhood. The group ranges in age from 19 to 56 with some sisters in the group as well as an aunt. They were nurtured by this archaic music, listening and singing it with their family and friends. The songs were passed down from generation to generation. The group started its artistic activity in 2015, after the singer Anna Katsi took the initiative to encourage the younger members to perform regularly. The communal nature of polyphonic singing is a way of revitalizing an art that has declined in recent years and to reassert the primacy of female voices in the southern Balkans. Singing these songs builds an invisible bridge that connects the present with the past, the memories of childhood travel with the immediacy of daily life. On Oct 14, 2022, Third Man Records will release a full album of these solo polyphonic songs, with Grammy-winning producer Christopher King. "It is social music, woven into the fabric of poor, marginalized, and disenfranchised communities. Many of the songs are variations of mirologia (songs of fate, songs of morning) that used to be sung throughout the southern Balkans but have largely disappeared on an informal cultural level except for Epirus. Structurally, the songs are pentatonic (five notes with no semitones) and are composed of three or four distinct melodic voices that weave together in an organic yet unexpected way. The remaining members of the group provide the iso or “drone” that is the low tonic note of the melody." - Chris King.

"Kontakt Audio and Infinite Fog Productions proudly present the 25-th anniversary reissue of the one of most unique albums on avantgarde/neoclassic music – Ihor Tsymbrovsky – Come, Angel.

Recorded in 1995 in Ukraine and released in 1996 just as a small run on cassette on Polish label Koka Records, the album without any promotion little by little became legendary and madly wanted by many fans all around the world. And from the first seconds, you can hear why it is so. Pretty hard to explain what songs play Ihor, moreover that would be senseless. “Come, Angel” is one of those albums which are so unique that takes you in a vacuum of verbal forms in an attempt to describe the record. In a few words, this is definitely very intimate and deeply emotional music with an absolutely incredible voice. The first associations could forward you to Antony Hegarty from Antony And The Johnsons, Marc Almond, Arthur Russell, Baby Dee, Bjork. Experienced listener familiar with these great artist knows that all of them are inimitable and Ihor Tsymbrovsky is totally inimitable as well.

In 2016 well-known German label Offen Music published 3 tracks from the album “Come, Angel” which brought a lot of attention to Ihor’s music. This time we’re excited to announce the first full album reissue on CD, Double vinyl, and tapes. Beside the full version of the album, you’ll find an exclusive bonus song from the cult compilation “Music The World Does Not See” – Nefryt Records 2000.

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“For me, music is a certain way of cultural survival. Here I do not set myself theoretical problems or experiments.
The connotations of life are important: rhythms, melodies, their connection with language, poetry, real life, virtual or imaginary space. It is very important to me how the recitation of work sounds, how consonant and vowel sounds dissolve in singing, how they combine musically. I understand sound space as a field of my interpretations, preferences, priorities, and I do not use direct imitation. If I hear a melody or a musical phrase, and it is fixed in my memory, later I extract it in my own interpretation, as already formed by this field. In art, the goal is in the work itself, not outside it. For me, the expression “To be is to create a new reality” is another winged reality.” – Ihor Tsymbrovsky

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“Tsymbrovsky – an architect, musician, a poet, an artist; one of the most underestimated musicians in Ukraine’s artistic world. Many critics pulled their hair out trying to get to the bottom of Tsymbrovsky’s music. It has been inspired by jazz, minimal, modern, ethnic, and meditation music. Tsymbrovsky is not a virtuoso, however, he creates whole worlds with his astonishing falsetto. Although Cymbrovsky’s music is simple it is made of many elements. Filled with magic and unusual sensitivity and warmth it can be therapeutic for the listener. This is that kind of music, which can be listened to many times – in a different way each time.” – Koka Records.

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“Igor Tsymbrovsky’s only album “Come Angel” (1995) still remains perhaps the most bizarre phenomenon in Ukrainian music since independence. The story of its author is a vivid example of cultural amnesia. In the pre-Internet era, Tsymbrovsky was a prominent figure in the Ukrainian underground, performed on the “Red Route”, went on tour in Germany. However, he left a minimum of evidence of his activity and became a silent legend for a few. We talked to Igor to find out where he came from and where he was going.

The album “Come Angel” is eight compositions performed with a falsetto to the accompaniment of a piano. (Tsymbrovsky’s falsetto is a legacy of the Lviv Dudaryk choir, where he sang as a child.) It would seem that it could be easier. But, despite such ascetic tools, Tsymbrovsky managed to create a phenomenon unique to Ukrainian culture. Some people compare him to Benjamin Clementine and Anthony Hegarty, but no comparison will be exhaustive. The lyrics of the songs attract special attention: two of them were written by Tsymbrovsky himself, the others demonstrate his remarkable literary knowledge. Here and Guillaume Apollinaire, and Mikhaijl Semenko, and even less obvious poets, such as Mykola Vorobyov or Jozsef Attila.

The young performer’s first performance took place in 1987 in the club of the Forestry Institute. It is quite symbolic that this room used to be a Jesuit church because such a chamber environment suits his songs about angels much better than the noise of big festivals. However, there were also many festivals in Tsymbrovsky’s career: in 1989, Chorna Rada and Chervona Ruta, in 1991, Kharkiv’s Nova Scena and Ukrainian Nights in Gdansk, Alternativa in Lviv. Ihor calls his first performances musical performances and notes that they sounded completely different. Unfortunately, we will never know exactly how.” – Amnesia

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“The magicians at Dusseldorf’s Offen Music pluck a madly beguiling pearl of late-night songcraft by Ukraine’s Ihor Tsymbrovsky to follow their vital releases by Toresch and Rex Ilusivii. Come Angel was first recorded in Lviv, Ukraine, in 1995, and issued on cassette by Poland’s Koka Records in 1996. There appears to be no prior mention of the release or artist on the internet and quite how it came into of Offen Music possession is not disclosed, and that only ratchets the record’s enigma to astonishing degrees once you’ve heard the music. In a quivering, high register, androgynous trill, Ihor Tsymbrovsky beckons heavenly beings in the remarkable A-side Come, Angel against a swirling backdrop of phasing, subtly delayed organ. It was recorded in one take (this is the 2nd version), and, if we’re not mistaken, you can hear the keys being pressed rhythmically in the background, which seems to be the song’s only tangible connection to this mortal world as Ihor vaults octaves high and close-in-the-mix with the sort of alien, dreamlike vocal that requires pinching oneself to make sure you’re awake. Spellbinding is definitely the word. On the other side he (we’re assured it is a ‘he’ in the promo text) sets two poems by Mykola Vorobyov and Mykhal Semenko, respectively, to emphatic piano keys, this time more shy of FX save for some delay, placing that willowing, avian vocal at a dreamy arms reach in Roses for the Poet, and with a sort of liturgical dark jazz feel, sorta like Lewis repenting his sins as a castrato monk, in the spare atmosphere in By the Sea. This is gold-seal business, we tell ya. Clock the clips and clear some swooning room.” – Boomkat

credits:
Music By – Ihor Tsymbrovsky
Lyrics By: Ihor Tsymbrovsky (tracks: C2, D1)
Atilla Joszef (tracks: B1)
Mychajl Semenko (tracks: B2, C1,C3, D2)
Mykoła Worobjow (tracks: A1,A2)
Engineer – Edward Hryhorjew
Remastering – Ihor Tsymbrovsky"