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Following on from their critically acclaimed debut album, the second album from Shackleton / Zimpel represents the culmination of the ecstatic trance urge that has underlined both artists work since they embarked on their singular yet somehow parallel paths. The duo, consisting of electronic music maverick Sam Shackleton and visionary avant folk virtuoso Waclaw Zimpel, sees them link up with one of Indian Carnatic music"s greatest emerging young vocal talents, Siddhartha Belmannu, to bring an album which is equal parts both a meditative exercise and an urge to transcendence whilst thematising both the acceptance of our mortality and the joyous celebration of living.

It contains all the signatures of her best lyricism: delicate and precise phrasings, moments that flicker between beauty and banality, meaning that forms through the accretion of observations, memories, and unexpected adages. This is an album that is at once post-theistic and devoted to a relationship with the divine, each song blinking in and out of "the fragile plane," a place Krieger describes as "a middle ground in the universe," both abstract and peaceful, where time, bodies, and names don't exist.

Krieger initially collaborated with Luke Temple and Jeremy Harris to record her vocals and guitar to tape at Panoramic Studios in West Marin, CA. As the album continued to form, Krieger envisioned instruments - like the French and English horn (Nancy Ranger and Priscilla Reinhart), electric guitar (Jacob Drab), and pedal steel (Kevin Copeland) - as characters which would walk in and out of the soundscape. What emerged from conversations with composer Sammy Weissberg, are brass parts that have a dark, almost surreal logic: horns arise to emphasize a word or phrase, fall out completely, only to rush back with dissonant orchestrations that gesture simultaneously toward deterioration and generation.

While Krieger takes inspiration from Elliot Smith's honesty, Judee Sill's cosmic reaching, and Joni Mitchell's sharp noticing, the dream-like association, harmonic dissonance, and angular melodic ascensions in each song are singularly and delightfully Krieger's.

"I Keep My Feet on the Fragile Plane" is a daring collection of songs by an artist who scries with both the cold glass eye of truth and the beating heart of empathy; who portrays life in all its twisted complexities.

She has made a fresh name for herself that extends beyond her band's legacy, establishing herself as a singular force in her own right. Nowhere is this more readily apparent than on Realms, Wilson's spirited sophomore studio album and her most ambitious effort to date. Once again working with Suny Lyons (with Sterling Campbell contributing drums and Maria Kindt on strings), Wilson invites her audience on an immersive, enchanting ten-track journey that peels back the layers of our common humanity. Realms demands our undivided attention as Wilson takes us on a kaleidoscopic journey through our own minds and souls.

Through a series of colorful, dramatic outpourings and dynamic, finessed upheavals, it's a carefully crafted record proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Cindy Wilson continues to have her fingers on the pulse of modern music. Pop in style and indie at heart, Realms is the next new wave of Wilson's already storied legacy.

In Rumi's poem A Great Wagon he writes of a place of total acceptance. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there," It is a boundless, liminal space where we can release the judgments we make and carry of ourselves, and the comparisons to others. When we think of this field, there is a sense of tranquility that only comes when we are undisturbed by the shadow self and see existence as neither bright nor dim, white nor black. But as lead singer Greg Bertens explains, arriving there is a whole different story. "This is a poem I've returned to over the years, and I love the idea of this place, but getting there is life's journey." Bertens adds "I think the longing for and elusiveness of this field is a recurring theme in our music." Field is enveloped by themes of regret, disconnection and frustration but with the space to understand that these feelings are a natural part of the struggle between reconciling the inner and outer self. The Los Angeles/San Francisco-based group have been indie shoegaze stalwarts since their formation in 2001. After two decades and a handful of line-up changes, their extensive discography presents a dynamically textural, lush psychedelic rock that has featured guest appearances by members of Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Snow Patrol, among others. 2021's LP We Weren't Here was hailed for its dense instrumental blanket, where unrelenting hi-hats and heavy kicks exist alongside dreamy drone guitar. This propulsive nature permeates Field, as members Bertens, Noël Brydebell (vocals), Nyles Lannon (guitar), Jason Ruck (synths), Justin LaBo (bass), and Adam Wade (drums) produce a kaleidoscopic sonic landscape. Patient, sprawling instrumentation builds a foundation in which Bertens' themes of endurance, perseverance and clarity can bloom with a considered poise. As a lyricist who writes in response to the instrumental arrangements, rather than a focus on a specific theme or person, Field is a testament to Film School's ability to create in the moment, and to showcase the magic that stems from when we are truly present. Album opener "Tape Rewind" is a swirling rush of color, as sustained guitars, darkened bass lines and urgent, percussive swells dance alongside each other. "This is the newest of all the songs on the record and feels like a new level of heaviness for the band," Bertens explains, noting that its lyrical context of struggling to move past trauma adds to its cathartic essence. Field is bookended by heavier themes, with closer "All I'll Ever Be" taking on the perspective of those we hurt when we embrace our own toxic behaviors. Originally written to be a simple acoustic guitar and vocals song soon turned into an ethereal, effects-laden composition, with Noël's hazy lead vocals ushering in a new-found acceptance. "It's all I want / To be released / And all I can be," she laments, cementing Field's message of accepting ourselves in whatever form we find ourselves in. "Defending Ruins" is a murky relentless underworld, inspired by the freewheeling tones of Texas-based band Holy Wave. "Defending the ruins, defending remains," Bertens spits, among a richly-layered outro. "Don't You Ever" confirms Film School's ability to merge both delicate and growling instrumentation throughout the album, with the song's softly spoken section hovering above sparkling guitar. "Is This A Hotel" bends towards the electronic aspects of the band, with wailing synths accompanying a story of bitter desire. With over two decades in the industry, Field cements Film School as a distinct, dominant force in the shoegaze scene. Soaked in an emotionally open, imaginative atmosphere, the album is both singular and expansive, and leaves the door open for a constantly evolving interpretation. Film School have never confined themselves to the rigidity of specifics, and it's on Field that they urge us to look beyond the binary of certainty, and to take a second look

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

In 1972, a foursome of design students set out to make a record. This was, in many ways, a strictly creative endeavor. The quartet — composed of Dave Pescod, Alan Lewis, Phil Rawle, and Ted Rockley — were all trained, not as musicians, but as creatives. Art school heavyweights, the four were well-versed in the methodology of intentional experimentation, in the delicate balance of pushing the limits without completely unmooring oneself from a guiding creative intention. Emboldened by a high-brow familiarity with thoughtful experimentation and all the non-conviction of non-musicians, Bowes Road Band’s stint in the world of popular music yielded a record that is as much mind-melting as it is a direct product of its time. Their sprawling LP “Back in the HCA” embodies the exigence “art for art’s sake,” but it is for art’s sake that this record, however off the deep end it seems to travel (hear: “Doctor, Doctor”), remains a unified, and stunning, body of work. The LP’s do-ityourself garage rock noisemaking meets highfalutin creative processes. “Back in the HCA” is warbling psychedelic freakout (“Two Fingers,” “Doctor, Doctor”), Donovan-esque English countryside folk stylings (“Inside My Head,” “Goodbye to Rosie”), and avant-garde jazz improvisions (“Grass is Grass,” “Tomorrow’s Truth”) in one luminous release.

Originally an 9-track LP, Jakarta, Uno Loop, and Bowes Road Band decided to mine the six most cohesive tracks for the reissue, though the extras may be released somewhere down the line. Cohesion efforts aside, “Back in the HCA” stands alone in its singular conception of a genre-bending continuum — it evades definition. That said, the LP can easily be situated in the sonic environment in which it was conceived. By the end of the 60s, England was crawling with blues-based rock outfits that were starting to venture into prog rock territory. You can hear this popular dint cast over the folkier side of the LP. But Bowes Road Band was armed with their non-musicianship: they existed completely liberated from the motivating yet ultimately paralyzing lust for stardom. Enjoying this liberation, Bowes Road Band was utterly free to make noise. This freedom meant drawn out sax interludes amidst sweetly folk stylings (“Grass is Grass”) and Shaggs-like fuzzed-out freakouts that spiral into a void (Doctor, Doctor). This freedom also meant straight-forward tuneful cuts like “Goodbye Rosie” that conspicuously introduce heavily distorted auto-organ accompaniment mid-track amidst poignant lyricism. Bowes Road Band crafts a unified sound and then cracks it open.

With a completely off-the-radar status, Bowes Road Band could only press 50 copies of the record — 10 for each of them and 10 for the school. The band’s lifespan was to end there, or so they thought. “Back in the HCA” was the accidental fruit of a Berlin flea market treasure hunt by Jannis Stürtz, DJ and co-founder of Habibi Funk and Jakarta Records. After finding and sharing the LP with a few colleagues, Stürtz managed to get in touch with the band, get ahold of the master tapes collecting dust in Ted Rockley’s attic, and start the reissuing process. The record is still adorned with its original cover art designed by Alan Pescod, both reminiscent of bygone school days and the Zoom calls of yesterday — in short, reunion. Its re-discovery was happenstance and ought to be listened to as such. That is, “Back in the HCA” was not made to be listened to on a broad scale, or, at least, was not made with this goal in mind; it is neither in its time nor of its time. Of course, the group explicitly cites the folk tunes of the English countryside, the distorted rock groups that reigned during the record’s conception, and the fringes of psychedelic music that only the uber-underground might recognize (e.g., “Dreaming of Alice”). Yet still with these obvious influences, “Back in the HCA” always existed beyond the domain of both traditional musicianship and conventional commodification. Bowes Road Band’s DIY musicality beams through in technicolor across “Back in the HCA.” The vinyl includes an 8-page booklet detailing the albums creation and interviews with the band.

Lead single “Grass is Grass,” out July 14 along with album pre-order, encapsulates the record’s range: the track unfurls into a sprawling sax-driven trip following a sundrenched, Donovan-esque intro w/ lyrics “naively about parks and gardens, not marijuana!” The keyed-down folk cut “Goodbye to Rosie” is single 2 and elevates stripped-down acoustics with golden tinges, out August 4th. Focus track “Tomorrow’s Truth” constructs the fuzzed-out underbelly of acid folk. Listen for echoes of late Beatles, Mark Fry, and Donovan (if they were armed by an unshakabele willful naiveté). Like Sgt. Pepper’s on a shoestring budget—take a trip to the underground with LP “Back in the HCA,” available everywhere physically and digitally on September 1st via Jakarta Records and Uno Loop.

Besides online promotion from label profiles, the album will be further promoted by external agencies within the UK and US.

When picturing the German techno scene, one likely imagines the concrete monoliths of its capital city Berlin rather than the vineyards and valleys of the enchanting city of Stuttgart in the southwest. But small cities lack the oversaturation and noise of the metropolis, allowing them to develop their own inspired and distinctive subcultural visions. Stuttgart’s David Löhlein exemplifies this potential, manifesting a singular style of sight and sound through his Vision Ektase project and residency at Lehmann Club. Now, Löhlein’s warm-blooded techno is slinking, slithering and seducing its way through BNR, with the upcoming Hotel Pool EP release.

There’s no hesitation before plunging into the EP’s titular track, with its rushing fingered basslines and rolling polyrhythms. Löhlein cites solo travels in Columbia as the source of his Latin influences, and one hears them throughout “Hotel Pool” in vocal and percussive samples. Elements more commonly found in Latin and tribal house feel uncommonly fresh once Löhlein recontextualizes them within a 144 bpm techno foundation. The words “groovy” and “sexy” are usually reserved for the stuff of Buddha Bar compilations, but “Hotel Pool” is exhilarating because it serves both of the former and none of the latter.

A stream of hedonism flows beneath all of the four-tracker, but if the opener is erotic, A2 “La Piscina” is psychedelic. The bass flutters like a mescaline come-up, as infinite loops of chattering voices and deep bamboo pipe notes mesmerize. Again, Löhlein takes certain genre tropes - in this case from psytrance - and transposes them through his own stylistic signature with thrilling results. Ask Löhlein if he likes psytrance and the answer might be “Yes, when it’s techno.”

Leading the flip, “Cuando Vengas” heats up around a dark and sticky loop of ambiguous, organic origin. Here Löhlein’s masterful sample and drum programming is clearly on display, with vocal chops and subtle rhythmic variations leading the dancefloor to shivering bliss. The EP closes with “I Just Want,” a sparse, cold, and bitcrushed stalker of a track that seems to answer Baudrillard’s famed question “What are you doing after the orgy?” That the Hotel Pool EP’s wild romp ends in the Berlin oeuvre perhaps proves the city’s primacy in the German techno scene, but after a few listens one begins to wonder what rare pleasures they’ve been missing in David Löhlein’s Stuttgart.

Vargmal Records continues to explore immersive, thought-provoking techno with an abstract spirit by presenting Corners EP from the emergent collaborative UK project Terrain. The Kosovo-based label was launched in 2022 with a considered balance of classic and contemporary techno, featuring Italian techno pioneer Leo Anibaldi and commissioning attendant remixes by contemporary Italian maestro Donato Dozzy.

Continuing the label's embrace of subliminal sounds for adventurous dance floors, Terrain deliver four tracks of snaking, subtle rhythms pivoting away from rigid structures towards a more fluid kind of techno. It's a sound the duo of Joe Baker and Voytek Stanley channeled on their debut release and they expand on the principles from that record in superlative style on Corners.

The EP opens up with the weighted pressure of 'Blind Spot', a dense workout pivoting on a fractured kick punching out underneath interwoven sheets of texture and atmosphere. 'Vintage' develops this theme with dubby chord washes which bloom out over the fine detail of the deceptively complex beat configuration. 'Corners' meanwhile adjusts the temperature from cooly meditative to subtly fierce accents Terrain edge into their sound.

It's an elegant fusion that remains at ease with the overall mood of the EP, but a noticeable shift in energy for the B side. 'Singularity' completes the picture with additional input from Localhost, welcoming layers of noisy melodics which sit comfortably on top of Terrain's dubby pulses. More open and searching than the introspection which holds sway elsewhere, it's a tonal shift that opens the sound of Terrain out and brings a sense of balance to their assured second record.

With I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy, Fat Tony embodies the kind of quixotic figure he would rap about; a singular entity who’s motivated, confident, and hungry; a perpetual-motion-machine locked in a staring contest with his country. It’s the latest album in his catalog produced entirely by L.A-based producer Taydex since 2020’s Wake Up. Later that same year Fat Tony released Exotica, and ever since he’s demonstrated he is in his own lane as a professional rapper with the mind of a magician, as quick to conjure an image as pull it out from under you, deftly manoeuvring through so many details and references a listener feels as if they have witnessed the work of an illusionist. He paints these canvases inside of songs that rarely spill past three minutes; they’re pocket-sized diaries replete with acute observations, character studies, microdoses of storytelling, and single-minded ruminations on a topic that bud, blossom, and fade before too long. Fat Tony & Taydex’s I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy cements Tony’s status as someone whose albums are not so much lyrically-lyrical as they are picaresque.
As with any Fat Tony project, the bars are tight as ever, but are so fluid for the 34-year-old it’s almost easy to take for granted the details, warmth, and humanity inside his free-associative tales of day-one friends who’ve passed, edgelord grifters who want to spit game, and nights on ketamine. Taydex’s production sprints through disparate yet simpatico styles, dipping its toes into Pi’erre Bourne-esque bass (see lead single “Spectacular”), house (“Loosen Up”), and even hyperpop. Meditations on loss and grief are woven throughout, but Tony throws a few curveballs as well: Consider “Alexis,” which sweetly reflects on a long-term platonic friendship. Taydex finds a Teddy Riley-indebted New Jack Swing groove just deep enough for the feeling to land and underlines the song’s sincere candor. This is the appeal of Fat Tony writ-large: his boisterous voice and genial personality invite you to the party, then you stick around to hear what he’s saying, which is frequently more introspective and complex than one assumes.
Written and recorded in Taydex’s new studio in North Hollywood, Tony says, “We had much more freedom and flexibility in making this album and you can hear it. It felt like a family project.” If the album is comfortable and loose, it is also dense and substantial. The album’s final two tracks contextualize the immediacy of what came before it—the mezcal with ices drank, Paul Wall swangin’ through to drop knowledge, the Polaris Prize-winning rapper Cadence Weapon providing a vibe check. “Make a Baby” accounts for Tony who’s seen everything, and knows he’s met the one to be a father with, and yet chooses to take his time to get it done. Taydex’s beat recalls turn-of-the-century R&B and the millennial promise of an endless good time. Sombre closer “Jasper, TX” is Tony coming to grips with the story of James Byrd, Jr., a Black man from East Texas dragged to his death by three white supremacists in 1998. These songs are not only trademarks of Tony’s fastidious rapping—they are deeply personal examples of his approach to artistry and life itself, where every decision is made in the shadow of history.
It’s here the mission statement of I Will Make a Baby in this Damn Economy comes into focus—you get the sense he means it, he’s ready for it, he’ll fight for it. He’s waiting to take the world at its word.

Neue bezaubernde Metal-Horizonte

Das neue SinHeresy-Album “Event Horizon" unterstreicht den einzigartigen Sound von SinHeresy, der aus druckvollen, modernen Vibes, kraftvollem Riffing, fesselnden Atmosphären und unvergesslichen Melodien besteht. Jeder Song ist perfekt um die kristallklare Stimme von Cecilia Petrini und die starken Vocals von Stefano Sain herum aufgebaut, die sich von Zeit zu Zeit vermischen und duellieren, während die Rhythmen härter und dynamischer werden und einen Hauch von melodischen Metalcore-Einflüssen aufweisen.

Der atemberaubende Ritt über 10 Tracks führt den Hörer auf eine Reise ins Unbekannte und steht für die endlose Entdeckung der innersten Gefühle, Tugenden und Schwächen, die wir manchmal sogar vor uns selbst verbergen.

Sun Ra and the various groups he led were as prolific as they were innovative. By conservative estimates they produced around 200 recordings over a fifty year period, and the early 70s was as fertile a time as any. In a typical burst of creative energy Ra and an ensemble he dubbed The Solar Myth Arkestra produced enough material to be spread over two albums or two volumes, that amount to a kind of sonic odyssey which has no end of twists and turns, as befits a group of such singular character.

Since 2016, Public Memory has been crafting lo-fi electronica from the darker corners of the psychic landscape. Gritty atmospherics, damaged synthesizers, and unearthly vocals blend with a mixture of electronic and organic percussion, creating a sense of forceful unease. This, when combined with the shadowy production and emotive singing of Robert Toher, creates a singular contrast between power and vulnerability.

Fiddlehead's third album Death is Nothing to Us is a defiant, new chapter for the band. Since 2014, the Boston-based group have been honing their unique sound, bringing together the energy of hardcore, the anthemic melodies of `90s alternative, and the unbridled passion of Revolution Summer era emo. Their previous albums, 2018's Springtime and Blind and 2021's Between The Richness, dealt heavily with grief from different perspectives, and now their latest feels like a de facto culmination, drawing together many of the catalog's through-lines sonically and lyrically. The band again teamed with producer Chris Teti for their third record, and his punchy production captures Fiddlehead's live energy while showcasing the massive guitars and undeniable catchiness that makes their music so immensely satisfying. The album's concise 27 minutes sound like a natural extension of all of the band's strengths, but is glued together by vocalist Pat Flynn's singular tuneful roar. Flynn, since his time as the vocalist of Have Heart and now as Fiddlehead's frontman, has earned a reputation as one of hardcore's most thoughtful lyricists. He interweaves his ruminations on life, death, and all the joy and tragedy in between with references to Roman philosopher Lucretius; the author Jean Améry; other musicians like Bad Brains, Alex G, or Wire, and even references to the band's own back catalog. The humanity across Death Is Nothing To Us is palpable in every note. It's the kind of art that observes pain with real honesty rather than prescribing a solution for it-and in doing so, inadvertently offers some sense of hopefulness. The album finds Fiddlehead so deeply delving into the pain, confusion, nuances, and contradictions of sadness-so willingly wrapping their arms around a concept as existentially baffling as death itself-that they've created an album that is truly life-affirming. Death is Nothing to Us exemplifies so much of what makes Fiddlehead a special band: taking these heady, unanswerable questions and wrestling with them in a very earthbound way, all wrapped up in the urgent power of a three minute punk song.

Factory Benelux presents a limited (500 copies only) coloured vinyl edition of Nature + Degree, the sixth studio album from post-punk trailblazers Section 25, originally released in 2009.

Self-produced in 2009, Nature + Degree was the first SXXV project to feature new members Stephen Stringer and Stuart Hill. Founder members Larry and Vin Cassidy are also joined on several tracks by Beth Cassidy, whose vocal style recalls that of her late mother Jenny on From the Hip and Love & Hate.

Stand-out tracks include Garageland, Singularity, Remembrance and Saddled With Something, the latter burnished by a string quartet.

"All Factory groups now have a cult following and Section 25 have done more than many to deserve it. The electronic pop-rock sound is no longer novel, but on their second album of new material since 2007 the group turn in an album that's straightforward, sincere and musically ebullient" (The Wire)

"The natural follow-up to Part-Primitiv, yet still recalling the Factory legacy" (Brainwashed)

Julian Cannonball Adderley's only Blue Note album, Somethin' Else, would likely forever be famous in music lore if just for the presence of Miles Davis. The iconic composer/trumpeter steps into the role of sideman on the 1958 set, one of just a handful of times he'd make such a move after the calendar passed the mid-1950s. Yet evaluating Somethin' Else strictly on Davis' involvement misses the big picture. Plain and simple, Adderley's jubilant work remains a jazz landmark due to the chemistry of its Hall of Fame personnel, enthusiasm of its participants, and sophistication of its arrangements – not to mention the reference-grade production and inclusion of the definitive renditions of two all-time jazz standards.

Limited to 6,000 numbered copies, pressed on dead-quiet MoFi SuperVinyl at RTI, and mastered from the original master tapes, Mobile Fidelity's ultra-hi-fi UltraDisc One-Step 180g 45RPM 2LP collector's edition pays tribute to the record's merit and includes the bonus track "Allison's Uncle." Offering reference-calibre sonics, this spectacular collector's version provides a clear, transparent, ultra-dynamic, and up-close view of a cornerstone effort that witnesses Adderley and Davis sharing horn duty alone for the only time in their fabled careers – an arrangement that occurred as a result of Adderley having joined Davis' majestic sextet a year prior.

The premium packaging and beautiful presentation of the UD1S Somethin' Else pressing befit its extremely select status. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendour of the recording. No expense has been spared. Aurally and visually, this UD1S reissue exists as a curatorial artefact meant to be preserved, touched, and examined. It is made for discerning listeners that prize sound quality and production, and who desire to fully immerse themselves in the art – and everything involved with the album, from the iconic photos to the gorgeous finishes.

The vibrant potency reveals itself openly on an analogue set that provides full-range reproduction of an ensemble that also includes pianist Hank Jones, bassist Sam Jones, and drummer Art Blakey. Each and every snare hit, downbeat, and cymbal splash registered by the latter take on realistic proportions, blooming and decaying as they would right in front of you on a stage. Jones' foundational bass lines register with uncommon depth and palpability, the litheness of the strings and fullness of the instrument epitomizing the definition of rhythm. Stellar, too, are the surefooted 88s. Sublime in scale, tonality, and attack, with the delineation such you can practically separate the white and black keys in your mind. As for that liquid interplay between Adderley and Davis? Breathtakingly lifelike in timbre, naturalism, purity, and presence. This collector's version takes you there – there being Rudy Van Gelder's legendary New Jersey studio in March 1958 to witness it all unfold, again and again.

For reasons that extend far beyond the outstanding playing and flawless repertoire, Somethin' Else is without question a record you'll always want to watch and hear come together. As veteran critic Bob Blumenthal observed writing about the album four decades after its release, "The instant rapport achieved by the quintet is thus the product of much shared and common history, though the tensile strength that they create throughout created a totally unique feeling that can be attributed to the sensitive musicianship of all concerned, including the supposedly hard bopping leader and drummer." Such inimitable feeling, or emotion, courses throughout every passage, and no where more obviously than on "Autumn Leaves" and "Love for Sale."

Without question, the discreet interpretations of the Johnny Mercer and Cole Porter songs, respectively, found on Somethin' Else have long been considered part of jazz's alluring mystique. Adderley and Davis bring contrasting approaches to the table yet sound of a singular mind on "Autumn Leaves," with the latter's muted trumpet and the headliner's lush alto saxophone dovetailing into a performance that endures as a blueprint for expression, counterpoint, sophistication, fluidity, and linearity. Blues, melody, and romance pour from their horns. Their bandmates, picking up on the intimate vibe and calm mood here – as well as on the spry, head-over-heels spirit of "Love for Sale" – join in on the conversation with sharp economy and float-on-air roundedness.

Not to undersell the other three numbers, all deserving five-star status. Twelve measures in length, the title track offers a slow burn in swing. Written by Adderley's brother, Nat, the 12-bar "One for Daddy-O" transmits funk flavors. The closing "Dancing in the Dark" pops with lushness and temptation, its stream of bold colours and understated textures calling for a moonlight twirl, or at least fantasies suggestive of a memorable night. Somethin' else, indeed.

Dark Entries has a surprise delivery! Malebox brings us six previously unreleased funk-fueled jams from the archives of the cybernetic disco titan himself, Patrick Cowley. Best known for his chart-topping disco anthems, Cowley left us with an incredible body of work before his tragic death in 1982 due to AIDS-related illness. Since 2009, Dark Entries has been working with Cowley’s friends and family to uncover the singular artist’s lesser-known sides, including his soundtracks for gay pornographic films on compilation albums School Daze, Muscle Up, and Afternooners.

But Malebox gives us more of the Cowley we know and love: churning disco-funk and hi-NRG tracks that are spacey and sleazy, gritty and sublime. Recorded from 1979-1981, these six tracks illuminate what was one of Patrick’s most creatively exciting periods. “If You Feel It” and “Love Me Hot” were both early Paul Parker demos; the former is a peak hour hi-NRG bomb, while the latter dips into Cowley’s zoned-out space disco sound. Jeanie Tracy’s soulful vocals feature on the demo version of “Low Down Dirty Rhythm”, which was later re-recorded by Sarah Dash. The slower, less-varnished rendition here hits with a wild psychedelic edge. Meanwhile, Patrick’s gifts for careful orchestration and infectious melodies shine on “Floating” and “Love and Passion”, which were likely demo tracks for Loverde. The songs on Malebox display the vitality and inventiveness of a brilliant composer taken from us too soon.

Malebox sleeve design was by Gwenaël Rattke, and features a hyper-color retro collage. Also included is an air mail envelope containing a letter from Patrick Cowley to French disco producer Pierre Jaubert as well as liner notes and hand-written lyrics. Malebox will be released on November 12th , which is the 40th anniversary of Patrick’s passing.

Mercury Prize-nominated Portico Quartet has always been an impossible band to pin down. Sending out echoes of jazz, electronica, ambient music and minimalism, the group created their own singular, cinematic sound over the course of three studio albums, from their 2007 breakthrough 'Knee-Deep in the North Sea', and 2010 John Leckie produced 'Isla', to the self titled record 'Portico Quartet' in 2012. Now rebooted as Portico Quartet after a brief spell as the three-piece Portico, the group are set to release their fourth studio album Art In The Age Of Automation this August on Manchester's forward thinking indy jazz and electronica label Gondwana Records. It's an eagerly anticipated return, with the band teasing both a return to their mesmeric signature sound and fresh new sonic departures in their new music. Featuring the singles Endless and A Luminous Beam.

Peter Jefferies, a living legend of New Zealand underground music, from his seminal bands Nocturnal Projections and This Kind Of Punishment, to his collaborative efforts in bands such as Plagal Grind and Two Foot Flame, is perhaps best known for his solo work on masterpieces such as The Last Great Challenge In A Dull World (1990) and Electricity (1994), as well as Elevator Madness (1996). All of these albums came out on vinyl but one of the best was the singular Closed Circuit (2001) which, unfortunately, only came out on compact disc and was somewhat lost to time until now. After Grapefruit released his collection of singles and unreleased songs called Last Ticket Home in 2019, Jefferies mentioned he’d always hoped one of his personal favorite solo albums could someday be heard on vinyl as it was intended. Grapefruit is proud to finally be able to highlight Jefferies’ last album of lyric-based songs by releasing Closed Circuit on vinyl, remastered and with new artwork and insert. This album features all of Jefferies’ signature tense and dark, piano-driven rock and moody balladry, along with themes of personal isolation and domestic ambivalence. It’s a tour-de-force that has remained in the dark too long.

Repress!

The Self Split EP features Kouhei Matsunaga at his chimeric best for Diagonal, delivering two jazzy, freehand concrète collabs with Japanese sound artist and Eartaker noise maker, Masayuki Imianishi, plus two dance-offs with himself as NHK yx koyxen and Speedy K.Gelling Kouhei's many sonic handles for a full spectrum showcase of style and pattern, the set is riddled with a singular mischievous genius at every fold and warp. The Texture Foggy pieces render a more reflective, cosmic aspect of Kouhei's character. Working with Masayuki Imianishi, he terraforms paper, radio, field recordings and synths into vivid alien ecologies of shimmering electronics and spheric melody with a highly visual quality that perhaps betrays Kouhei's talents as an illustrator. For virulent examples of Kouhei at the rave, NHK yx koyxen and Speedy K's Step Move #01 is quite possibly the wonkiest peaktime juggernaut of the year, and the acid wormhole of Early Mellow Darkness sounds like the bald - as in bad - acid offspring of Luke Slater and Ed Rush. Once again Kouhei makes us go mad at the rave, but this time with something to come home and melt into as well.

If you ever thought Debris was Oklahoma's only entry into the bloodstream of feral, batshit rock, guess again. Mag Amplitude's, Wizards Of Today appeared in a miniscule, self released edition of 100 in 1983 & was the brainchild of a blind, guitarist-vocalist by the name of Matt Muncil. On Wizards Of Today, Muncil-considered by the psychedelic mafia to be the 'Higney of Heavy Rock'—& drummer Scott Roher proceed to lay down over 7 tracks an incredible wall of wildly fuzzed & primitive bash that is a singular testament to loner, outsider brilliance. Heavy on double tracked guitar riffs & growling, incomprehensible vocals concerning outer space, rocket ships & rock, Mag Amplitude's Wizards Of Today is a half hour slab of muzzed disorder of the highest possible recommendation. This Zaius Tapes reissue is in a one time pressing of 292 copies. Our first foray into (re) introducing fans & collectors into the cimmerian forest of American real people/outsider psych rock."—Johan Klepp, for Zaius Tapes

Bush Tetras have made punk music at the fringes for over four decades. Flashes of reggae, bursts of noise, guitars that rattle, shake and snake, born out of a gutter behind CBGBs. Over the years they have respawned time and time again, contorting their sound, tweaking the vision, remaining singular and indispensable. In the late 2010s the group-Pat Place, Cynthia Sley, and Dee Pop-reformed again, releasing an EP, Take the Fall, in 2018. It was their first offering of new music in over a decade. A few years later in, 2021, they released a career spanning box set called Rhythm and Paranoia. The New York Times called the box set an artifact that "proves for decades that Bush Tetras continued to evolve in surprising yet intuitive directions." Around the same time, the band began working on a full length record, writing sessions during the pandemic over Zoom. Right before the release of the box set, beloved drummer Dee Pop passed away. Determined to complete the record to honor his memory, the Tetras went into the studio to finish what they'd started, once the timing was right. They brought in a new drummer, Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley, who also served as producer. Enter They Live in My Head. The band's 3rd official LP (a misleading fact when viewed along - side a catalog as expansive as it is influential), They Live in My Head is a collection of songs that sometimes reflect on the past and sometimes reckon with our current reality. From "Ghosts of People," on which Pat Place's legendary guitar meanders through closed doors and portals, to the scorching "2020 Vision," a matter- of-fact call to arms to get on the streets and get something done, the album addresses new and old, in both abstract and specific terms. But whether they're looking forward or backward, Bush Tetras have always been a political band, a band that calls out all kinds of bullshit. And, in that sense, They Live in My Head is absolutely no exception.

Bush Tetras have made punk music at the fringes for over four decades. Flashes of reggae, bursts of noise, guitars that rattle, shake and snake, born out of a gutter behind CBGBs. Over the years they have respawned time and time again, contorting their sound, tweaking the vision, remaining singular and indispensable. In the late 2010s the group-Pat Place, Cynthia Sley, and Dee Pop-reformed again, releasing an EP, Take the Fall, in 2018. It was their first offering of new music in over a decade. A few years later in, 2021, they released a career spanning box set called Rhythm and Paranoia. The New York Times called the box set an artifact that "proves for decades that Bush Tetras continued to evolve in surprising yet intuitive directions." Around the same time, the band began working on a full length record, writing sessions during the pandemic over Zoom. Right before the release of the box set, beloved drummer Dee Pop passed away. Determined to complete the record to honor his memory, the Tetras went into the studio to finish what they'd started, once the timing was right. They brought in a new drummer, Sonic Youth's Steve Shelley, who also served as producer. Enter They Live in My Head. The band's 3rd official LP (a misleading fact when viewed along - side a catalog as expansive as it is influential), They Live in My Head is a collection of songs that sometimes reflect on the past and sometimes reckon with our current reality. From "Ghosts of People," on which Pat Place's legendary guitar meanders through closed doors and portals, to the scorching "2020 Vision," a matter- of-fact call to arms to get on the streets and get something done, the album addresses new and old, in both abstract and specific terms. But whether they're looking forward or backward, Bush Tetras have always been a political band, a band that calls out all kinds of bullshit. And, in that sense, They Live in My Head is absolutely no exception.

In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

Mike Cooper wrote his final songwriter record, a suite of gloaming glam-rock anthems performed with a spiritual jazz trio, while living on the Costa Tropical of Granada, Spain, an era when he was considering retiring from music altogether. A chance encounter and a last-ditch record deal convinced him to make one last album, which he recorded in 1974 at Pathway Studios in London, with “The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World,” featuring the inventive South African jazz rhythm section of Louis Moholo and Harry Miller with UK saxophonist Mike Osborne. This first-ever reissue includes a bonus CD of Milan Live Acoustic 2018, a previously unreleased solo set that represents Cooper’s return, after forty-four years pursuing free improvisation and electronics, to a new, deconstructed approach to singing, steel guitar, and songcraft. The deluxe LP+CD edition also features a six-panel insert with additional artwork and an essay by the artist about both records. The deluxe 2xCD gatefold edition features an eight-panel version of the same insert. In the wake of his magisterial triptych of early 1970s avant-folk-rock records Trout Steel (1970), Places I Know (1971), and The Machine Gun Co. (1972) the British songwriter, guitarist, and fledgling improviser Mike Cooper retreated to the Costa Tropical of Granada, Spain. With no prospects for touring or recording again, his fiery band the Machine Gun Co. had disintegrated. Cooper sets the scene in his liner notes of the first-ever reissue of his unjustly forgotten next album Life and Death in Paradise (1974): No one came running with offers of fame and riches, and we fell apart, and I left the country and headed for the beach, disillusioned and a bit disorientated musically. I went to Almuñécar in Andalusia, a place I had been going since 1969, because a painter friend from Reading, Rowland Fade who made the collage in the gatefold of my earlier album Trout Steel had moved there in 1968. It was in this synthetic coastal “paradise,” unmoored and adrift, considering retiring from music altogether, that he began tentatively writing new songs. A chance encounter with producer Tony Hall, who offered Cooper a last-ditch record deal on Hall’s nascent Fresh Air label, convinced him to make one last album with the stipulation that he could assemble what he called “The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World.” I told Tony that I would do it if I could hire some of my South African jazz musician friends that I had used on my Pye/Dawn albums and some friends from Reading that I still knew and admired. I called up Harry Miller, Louis Moholo, and Mike Osborne, who were in fact a trio at the time … and several local Reading heroes, including the singer-songwriter Terry Clarke. The result, recorded live with minimal overdubbing at Pathway Studios in London, was Life and Death in Paradise, an utterly singular suite of gloaming glam-rock anthems performed with a spiritual jazz trio comprising the inventive South African jazz rhythm section of Moholo and Miller with UK saxophonist Osborne. Unlike anything else in Cooper’s extensive catalog. Fresh Air fizzled, and Life and Death became Cooper’s final record as a songwriter, having pushed the form as far as he could. Drifting north from Spain back to the UK, he fell into the scene of the London Musicians Collective (LMC) including Paul Burwell, David Toop, and saxophonist Lol Coxhill, Cooper’s bandmate in the Recedents and fully embraced free improvisation. He was still, however, interested in singing and lyrics, so, influenced by Tom Phillips, William Burroughs, and Brion Gysin, he began experimenting with text collage and cut-up techniques, arriving at his own hybrid compositional strategy for improvisatory songs. The previously unreleased solo set Milan Live Acoustic 2018 represents Cooper’s return, after more than four decades pursuing free improvisation and electronics, to a new, deconstructed approach to singing, lap steel guitar, and songcraft. Presented here together with Life and Death in Paradise, the two records provide fascinating bookends to Mike Cooper’s long, mercurial, and pioneering practice as a songmaker.

Ced Gee & Kool Keith, both members of the legendary Ultramagnetic MC's, regroup for a new Ultramagnetic MC's record. The resurgence of classic Hip hop moves strong into 2022 with new release from Ultramagnetic MC's "Kool Keith x Ced Gee." Arising from the Boogie Down Bronx in the mid-'80s as a far-flung hip hop trio with a heap of new ideas to try out, Ultramagnetics Kool Keith, Ced Gee, and DJ Moe Love occupy something of a singular place in the old-school pantheon. Combining funk-heavy tracks with jeep-rocking beats and obscure lyrical references, Ultramagnetic MCs have a list of firsts to their credit: the first rap group to employ a sampler as an instrument, the first to feature extensive use of live instrumentation, the first to feature a former psychiatric patient (Kool Keith) on the mic. Early singles like "Something Else" and "Space Groove" were block-party staples and created waves in the underground, eventually landing the group on the disco-dominated Next Plateau label, where they released their underappreciated debut. The following years found the group shuffling from label to label, releasing albums on Mercury and Wild Pitch before splitting to pursue various projects. This special event will feature Kool Keith and Ced Gee performing classic Ultramagnetic MCs songs and sharing stories and history about the making of their iconoclastic catalogue.

First impressions matter. Especially on a debut album. Time and attention-strapped listeners size up an artist within a song or two, then move on or delve in further. Fortunately, it only takes Margo Price about twenty-eight seconds to convince you that you’re hearing the arrival of a singular new talent. “Hands of Time,” the opener on Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, is an invitation, a mission statement and a starkly poetic summary of the 32-year old singer’s life, all in one knockout, self-penned punch. Easing in over a groove of sidestick, bass and atmospheric guitar, Price sings, “When I rolled out of town on the unpaved road, I was fifty-seven dollars from bein’ broke . . .” It has the feel of the first line of a great novel or opening scene in a classic film. There’s an expectancy, a brewing excitement. And as the song builds, strings rising around her, Price recalls hardships and heartaches – the loss of her family’s farm, the death of her child, problems with men and the bottle. There is no self-pity or over-emoting. Her voice has that alluring mix of vulnerability and resilience that was once the province of Loretta and Dolly. It is a tour-de-force performance that is vivid, deeply moving and all true. From the honky tonk comeuppance of “About To Find Out,” to the rockabilly-charged “This Town Gets Around” to the weekend twang of “Hurtin’ (On The Bottle)”, Price adds fresh twists to classic Nashville country, with a sound that could’ve made hits in any decade. Meanwhile, the hard-hitting blues grooves of “Four Years of Chances” and “Tennessee Song” push the boundaries further west to Memphis (the album was recorded at the legendary Sun Studio). • Hometown: Nashville • Recorded at Sun Studios

MAGIC STOCK FOUND !! Old school collector at distri price.. Last copies from the label's archives : a pure mental typical from the golden age of the unformated genre ! Don't miss !!

ENG 'Behavioural Sink Delirium' is the new studio album from MADMADMAD. Powered by their wild live parties and rooted in the sounds of mutant disco, post-punk and experimental electronics, the London-based trio's third LP is due out July 21 via Bad Vibrations. Arriving following 2019's 'Proper Music' and 2020's 'More More More', 'Behavioural Sink Delirium' was recorded and produced by Eddie Stevens (Zero7, Moloko, Róisín Murphy) in his Fulham studio. "We locked ourselves away for ten days and recorded 30 hours of music, all played live in one room, and only edited to create arrangements", MADMADMAD recall. The result of those sessions is nine unhinged techno-dystopian freak-outs that mark the trio out as a truly singular group. 'Behavioural Sink Delirium' takes its name and inspiration from the 1968-70 'Universe 25' experiment by American ethologist John B. Calhoun, looking at the behavioural effects of population growth in a 'rodent utopia'. During the studies, a perfect space was built for a colony of 3,000 mice to thrive in, with constant food and water supplies, cosy apartments and no outside threats or predators. Starting with 4 females and 4 males, the population grew rapidly before capping at a number of 2,200. At this point, a living nightmare ensued, filled with antisocial and violent mice as the utopic conditions began to collapse. The mice formed violent cliques and social hierarchies, cannibalism started becoming common practice and the population started plummeting to eventual extinction. Calhoun coined this tipping-point the "behavioural sink" effect, and it's this state of societal breakdown that the trio tap into on the record. "You can easily see the link with our species in terms of overpopulation, but also with the Internet medium or 'metaverse' and its overproduction of data, causing tremendous societal, mental and environmental shifts. What was supposed to cater for most of our needs has also turned on us. Delirium kinda states the air of it all, and the folly of the music." Pressing Info: 180g red vinyl, standard sleeve, printed inner-sleeve, download card included!

When Transform-I was released in 2009, Bristol’s Dubkasm were unmistakably prominent on the reggae scene but it is this LP - their tenth release - that put them on the map and cemented their status as outernational roots innovators and one of the most creative outfits in reggae. By 2006, Jah Shaka had been rinsing their percussive vocoder smash ‘Zulu Dawn’ (track 15) at the end of every dance for close to three years. Dubplates from the LP became firm favourites on some of the greatest soundsystems in the world, including Aba Shanti-I, Iration Steppas, and Channel One.
DJ Stryda and producer Digistep’s reputation grew still further when the pair managed to get an extremely rare vocal from the legendary Dub Judah, who at the time had not voiced a tune for many years. The resulting 7”, ‘From the Foundation’ (track 2) was the first tune to be released from Transform-I, an album which took the music world by storm with its singular blend of a deep, conscious roots reggae sound with instrumentation that drew on Digistep’s Brazilian heritage.

As the great DJ and journalist Steve Barker said in his rave Wire magazine review of the initial release, ‘Like many innovations heard for the first time, you wonder why this has not been done before’. Indeed, the LP’s blend of percussion instruments like zabumba, cavaquinho, and cuica with an absolutely stellar cast of vocalists including Tenastelin, Christine Miller, and Ras B, with a pre-Reggae Reggae Sauce fame Levi Roots recording from his living room, became timeless the moment it was released. Barker praised the album for being ‘more orthodox than expected’, by which I think he meant that the album is a completely authentic roots record, rather than an attempt to mix musical flavours to conceal a lack of ideas. Instead, ideas flew back and forth across the Atlantic, as basic tracks were laid in the Dubkasm Studio (then in Brazil, now in England) and overdubs and vocals were recorded in London, Nottingham, Bristol and Norway, with the final mixes being done at the Daddy Roots studio in Bristol. The combination is seamless both because Digistep grew up with Brazilian music, courtesy of his father, and because Dubkasm have lived and breathed reggae since their formation in 1994 – just go and listen to early releases like ‘Chemical Reaction Dub’ (1996) or ‘Hornsman Trod’ (2003) and you’ll hear heavyweight productions with a Rasta ethos immersed in U.K. soundsystem culture.

Since the album’s release, Dubkasm have gone from strength to strength and collaborated with a dazzling array of artists. Transform-I was remixed by some of Bristol’s best electronica producers in 2010, and 2013’s 12” ‘Victory’ became a huge soundsystem hit around the world, before being voiced by two of the greatest singers of all time, Luciano and Turbulence, and being remixed the following year by one of the world’s finest dubstep producers, Mala (who in 2016 released his own project fusing Latin music with electronic bass – the excellent Mala in Cuba).
The first project of its kind, beautifully reissued in its original format by Dubquake (the outfit behind France’s incredible OBF Soundsystem), Transform-I is the LP that launched Dubkasm on their current trajectory and has truly lived up to its name.

MARMO, a collaborative project between Christian Duka (Vādin / Amoenus) and Marco Maldarella (Sinestesie), was born out of friendship and shared passion for music-making. Starting off respectively as the electric guitarist and singer in a metal band nearly a decade ago, the pair have worked their way through various flavours of electronic music inhabiting someplace between ambient and dance music, arriving at their singular aesthetic on this, their second album and first for Utter.

'Epistolae' - Latin for 'written letters' - was created between London and Bologna during the COVID-19 pandemic, an ode to friendship and as a way to keep connected during a time of isolated separation. The album is conceived as one continuous musical experience, with each track flowing effortlessly into each other in sequence as is heard on the final cut you are listening to now. A veritable sonic journey, as one might say.

The outcome is an undulating collage carrying emotion as its common thread, with rich ambient textures giving way to bursts of percussion, simmering with shrouded whispers and spoken word, embossed with rhythms and borrowing influences from downtempo, dub, breaks, techno and tribal electronica.

'Epistolae' is available on limited vinyl and digital formats, mastered & Cut by Anne Taegert at D&M. Artwork by Marco Maldarella.

Singular Texan musician Craig Clouse hurtles unstoppably towards the 20th birthday of his dancefloor-splintering electronic project Shit And Shine, releasing a landmark LP, his first full-length for The state51 Conspiracy, ‘2222 And AIRPORT’. Acid house, minimal techno, electro, funk, krautrock, hip hop, found sound, spoken word, live percussion and industrial are blown apart stupendously and then reassembled – mad-scientist style, in a way peculiar to Clouse – into 13 hypnotic and transportative tracks.

Lead single SWISS, out 24 March, is a gloriously minimalist funk jam that sounds like the exact point at which someone turns the lights off at a lowkey house party and a wild night for the ages gets under way. An almost scornfully skeletal riff, sounding like a misfiring Cyberdine Systems Model 101 summoning up a Prince circa Sign “O” The Times riff while crashing head first into the hyper-processed early work of Prefuse 73, also featuring a cheeky sample of revered Mancunian DJ Luke Una talking about “existential fucking darkness”.

This is followed on 4 April by INFINITE SHITE, arguably the epic central track to the album, is a Shit And Shine banger for the ages, its dancefloor affect, undeniable. An unforgiving, pulsating Byetone-style bass drone worthy itself of being blasted on a Funktion-One rig, is just the background for a colossal acid b-line, destroying all in its path.

Micro details bristle at the liminal level, threatening to only reveal themselves to those in a club, those listening on headphones or those experiencing a heightened sensory state.

'BATSUMI’s 1974 classic. Repressed at Pallas in Germany on 180g black vinyl. Cover printed on reverse board and includes printed inner sleeve with liner notes from Francis Gooding. Initial copies shipped with exclusive 30cm x 30cm print of Batsumi performing in 1974.

Batsumi is a masterpiece of spiritualised afro-jazz, and a prodigious singularity in the South African jazz canon. There is nothing else on record from the period that has the deep, resonant urgency of the Batsumi sound, a reverb-drenched, formidably focused pulse, underpinned by the tight-locked interplay of traditional and trap drums, and pushed on by the throb of Zulu Bidi’s mesmeric bass figures. The warm notes of Johnny Mothopeng’s guitar complete a soundscape that is at once closely packed with sonic texture and simultaneously vibrating with open space, and in whose shimmer and haze Themba Koyana and Tom Masemola soar. A sonorous echo emanating from an ancient well, reverberant with jazz ghosts and warmed by the heat of soul and pop, Batsumi is nothing short of revelatory.

Many groups from this period did not issue recordings at all, and Batsumi are unusual in even having left an official recorded legacy. Out of print since the 1970s, and never issued outside of South African in its entirety, Batsumi is a landmark South African jazz recording, and a key musical document of its time.'

Blue Lake is the musical moniker of American born, Copenhagen based multidisciplinary artist and musician Jason Dungan, who signs to the Tonal Union imprint for the release of his new longform album ‘Sun Arcs’. It follows 2022’s release ‘Stikling’, earning a nomination for ‘Album of the Year’ at the Danish Music Awards plus warm praise from The Hum blog and musicians and DJs alike including Jack Rollo (Time is Away/NTS) and Carla dal Forno. A self taught player, Dungan began freely experimenting with self-built multi-string instruments, preferring to build his own hybrid 48-string zither and working in the realms of left-field ambient music, off kilter folk and improvised acoustic minimalism.

The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the idyllic Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.”

The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, an ode to his home state and a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material much like an artist would, recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting.

Musically it portrays a form of double life led by an American-identifying person living in Scandinavia, and a new found presence in Denmark, seeking out underdeveloped marshlands and barren stretches of beach adrift from other rhythms and distractions. Highlighting their individual and potent importance Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new glorying heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, borning his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery.

The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile /Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

Psych-rap enigma Onoe Caponoe returns with his fifth studio album ‘Concrete Fantasia’ on High Focus Records. In crystal clear communication with the mothership; littered with striking references to fantastical realms and uncommon lore, but very much anchored in the inner city blocks and smoggy roadsides that inform his everyday, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a dark fantasy tape that expertly blurs the lines between genres, tones, moods and character profiles.

Of this world and out-of-this-world perfectly poised; Onoe offering up escape portals, before quickly pulling the listener back in with wave-upon-wave of catdelix riptides. ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is something of a tug-of-war; peppering movie samples, vignettes and complex go-betweens tickling the senses, combining with a cacophony of mind-bending lyricism resulting in a singular journey, with Onoe confidently filling the shoes of both author and narrator.

Pinocchio ducking feds in the hood, an Ice King ruling over a frostbitten kingdom, The Cheshire Cat trying to clean up Alice’s act, sweet serenades to off-shore mermaids, the trials and tribulations of life in a haunted trap house, big booty witches, flying carpets and beyond, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ is a real trip through the imaginative mind of Onoe Caponoe. With an eclectic line-up of featured artists and productional talent propping up the fictional cast, ‘Concrete Fantasia’ has all the makings of an alt-rap odyssey for the ages.

Richie Culver had been waiting his whole life to record I was born by the sea. His debut album immediately and messily inscribed the artist into the canon of outsider music and experimental electronics, serving both as an arresting statement of intent and a painful reckoning with the difficult path that lead up to it, stealing one last glance back at a place he always knew he had to escape. Between grim lamentations, faded memories and anxiety attacks, all told with searing honesty and disarming openness, I was born by the sea excavates a space for hope, finding Culver digging through Humberside silt to find a world weary optimism, the raw material from which his visual and sound art is shaped. For this collection of expansions and inversions, Culver invites a collection of kindred spirits, contemporary inspirations and old heroes to wade into the salt water of his formative years spent living for impromptu raves and afterparties, connecting vivid memories of his birth place of Withernsea to artists hailing from as nearby as Preston and Bridlington, further afield, from Manchester and London, Berlin and Paris, before returning back to Hull, to where it all began.

For some, responding to I was born by the sea means diving even deeper into the record’s furthest reaches. Space Afrika clear away the pummelling loops of noise from ‘It’s hard to get to know you,’ revealing a cool and cavernous expanse in its wake. Distant chatter, previously heard as though through thin, plasterboard walls, now echoes from outside the maddening claustrophobia of the original’s Sisyphean sonics, illuminated as a dense storm cloud suspended amidst a more open scene, washed clean by a lighter rain, allowing the tender heart of the track to beat clear. London producer MOBBS stretches out ‘Pigeon Flesh’ into an epic, 10-minute, cold-sweat spiral, strung-out tension wrung from disconnected phone tones twisted in unexpected directions, snatches of Culver’s voice turned inside-out and deep fried bass threatening to tip the track over into oblivion, the build-and-release of a nervous breakdown experienced in real time. In an act of subversive self-reflection, Morgane Polanski switches one kind of ennui for another in her adaption of ‘I was born by the sea,’ swapping the sea for the city, English seaside towns in January for summer evenings in Paris and flashing lighthouses and sparkling oil rigs for the Eiffel Tower and the traffic around L’Arc de Triomphe. Even Culver finds time to revisit ‘Dream About Yourself,’ a track taken from his EP Post Traumatic Fantasy, breathing new words into its glacial drift, the half-remembered testimony of a shut-in: Woke up in the evening / Pray for me / Don’t trust anyone / Pray for algorithm. Reframed in a more melancholy light, the track’s reverberant keys even more clearly evoke a mournful nostalgia, fresh pain felt in old wounds.

Others find a parallel universe in Culver’s visceral world building. Rainy Miller flips the script with a scorched, avant-drill rework of ‘Daytime TV’, threading puncturing hi-hats and queasy low-end surge through the track’s steady ambient cascade, invoking the irresistible Preston beat magic of Miller’s own essential debut album, Desquamation. Aho Ssan melts away the crystalline textures of ‘Love Like an Abscess’ with the ominous crackle of a nascent fire, building through swathes of organic Max/MSP squelch and brittle, nails-down-chalkboard scrape, swelling and metastasising the original to spill over Culver’s desperate hymn to corporeal desire, at once flesh and not. Teresa Winter transports us an hour up the coast from Withernsea to her native Bridlington, replacing the sea wall of synthesis on ‘Nervous Energy’ with muffled ASMR murk and fever dream whispers, transforming Culver’s unflinching observations into a haunting call-and-response, filling in the blanks with her own eerie utterances, a fleeting conversation with a ghost. In a touching victory lap, Fila Brazillia, eccentric stalwarts of beloved ‘90s trip hop imprint Pork Recordings, whose performances at Hull institution The Lamp convinced a young Culver of the necessity to make his mark on club culture, resurface for their first remix in 20 years. Steve Cobby and David McSherry lead a low-slung, heartfelt stroll back through a suite of tracks from I was born by the sea, tracing a full circle saunter from Culver’s origins to his current musical practice, the sounds of his present repurposed by the sound of his youth. In a gesture that reflects the emotional complexity of the project, Fila Brazillia find joy at the end of Culver’s troubled reflection, picking out an undeniable groove in the stasis of feeling trapped in your hometown. Underlining Hull’s vital musical legacy, from Baby Mammoth to Throbbing Gristle, Cobby and McSherry demonstrate that, though there are certainly storms, by the sea there is also sun and through the fog, if you listen, you can hear a singular sound, a sound now carried by Richie Culver.

Participant is a record label and creative studio run by William Markarian-Martin and Richie Culver

Japanese folk-rock legend Morio Agata stunned fans with this way-outta-left-field dispatch - a synthesizer-laden, new-wave/post-punk classic. Originally released by Osaka’s Vanity Records in 1980 and back on vinyl for the first time in nearly 40 years, this fully authorized reissue has been remastered from the original analog tapes. In tip-on sleeve, with double-sided insert.

50 years ago, Hokkaido-born singer-songwriter Morio Agata released his debut single, Sekishoku Ereji (Red Elegy), an emotive, shuffling piano ballad that (shockingly) sold half a million copies in Japan. While he would never have another Top-40 hit, Agata would spend the next half century issuing a series of idiosyncratic, experimental pop albums. Today, he’s a beloved cult figure, still actively touring and recording in his seventies.

In his first decade as a recording artist, Agata released a stream of classics right out of the gate — Otome No Roman (1972) melded American-styled folk rock with traditional Japanese melodies, Zipangu Boy (1976) was a sprawling, Haruomi Hosono-produced psychedelic opus, and Kimi No Koto Suki Nan Da (1977) saw Agata tackle slick, lightly funky AOR. While this sort of stylistic schizophrenia might sink your average artist, Agata’s singular voice and magnetic charisma elevates everything he touches, and subsumes it all into Morio Agata World — a joyous, playful and frequently unhinged world.

Arguably the biggest left-turn of Agata’s early career, however, came in 1979, when legendary experimental label Vanity Records’ Yuzuru Agi paired Agata with major players from his label’s roster and the Osaka punk scene for an impromptu recording session. An impressive list of musicians took part (SAB, Yukio Fujimoto (Normal Brain), Masahiro Kitada (INU), Taiqui (Ultra Bide), Jun Shinoda (SS), Chie Mukai (Che-Shizu), and others) and even though they all came from different wings of the underground music scene, together they built an arresting, minimalistic bedrock of synthesized and acoustic sounds for Agata to work his magic over. The recording sesssions were tense and it took a while for the collective to find their footing. But the hard work paid off — Norimono Zukan is a masterpiece of ramshackle new wave and droning dirges, topped off with Agata’s unmistakeable croon, at times delicate, other times twisted. It’s a relatively short album, but a deep one, and Mesh-Key is honored to introduce it to a new generation of music fans.

One of this year’s breakout success stories from the UK’s current thriving independent music scene,
critically acclaimed seven-piece Black Country, New Road present here their highly anticipated second
album ‘Ants From Up There’ via Ninja Tune.
 Debut album ‘For the first time’ was shortlisted for the 2021 Hyundai Mercury Prize. The band
performed ‘Track X’ live on BBC 4.
 ‘Ants From Up There’ was written in lockdown in the early part of 2021 when the band were unable to
go on tour as planned to support their album release. The result is a stunning collection of songs and a
move in direction to a more crossover, alternative sound beyond the experimental and ‘post-punk’
nature of their debut.
 New album expands on their unique concoction to create a singular sonic middle ground that traverses
classical minimalism, indie-folk, pop, alt rock and a distinct tone that is already unique to the band.
 Extensive global touring in 2022, including their biggest London show to date at the Roundhouse, full
UK and European Tour in April/ May. Sold out 2021 shows include Brighton, Liverpool, Manchester,
Birmingham, Glasgow, Bristol and Dublin and more.
 2021 festival dates include End Of The Road, Latitude, Fusion, Roskilde, Dour, Bol Festival, Pohoda,
Le Guess Who, Dour. In 2022 they’ll play Primavera Sound, Dour, Way Out West, Bad Bonn Kilbi, Bol
Festival.
 For fans of IDLES, Black Midi, Squid, Phoebe Bridgers, Jockstrap, Nick Cave, The National,
Radiohead.
 Deluxe 4LP 140g vinyl box set with bonus ‘Live from the Queen Elizabeth Hall’ double LP, black paper
inner sleeves, 4 art prints, lyric booklet and sticker.

When I first heard Natalie Rose LeBrecht's time-suspending, air-ionizing music, more than twenty years ago, I thought "this kid is on to something." She's been proving that thought right ever since. Her recordings, from the teenage 4-track tapes she made as Greenpot Bluepot to the recent albums under her own name, have been fascinating dispatches from her progressively deeper dives into her gorgeous, weird, wildly idiomatic aesthetic. Holy Prana Open Game is a jewel of intensely personal cosmic music, created through a remarkable process of openness, craftiness, addition and subtraction. It belongs to a tradition of albums that document a rich, meditative sound as it rises up to join the world outside its creators' minds: Alice Coltrane's Universal Consciousness, Harmonia's Musik von Harmonia, Philip Glass's North Star, Talk Talk's Laughing Stock.

"Meditative" is specifically the idea here: Holy Prana Open Game had its origins in the fourteen days LeBrecht spent silently meditating in her home's small music room in the summer of 2019. "I came out of that bursting with the will to create new music," she says, and she created it sound-first. LeBrecht taught herself to program an analog synthesizer's timbres from scratch, and built a new set of glacial, heady compositions out of them, eventually singing to accompany the keyboard parts she was playing.

Then she closed her eyes at her computer, "let my mind be clear and open, imagined light pouring down through me, and began auto-writing to my memory of the music playing through my mind. Most of the lyrics emerged this way, and then I used my conscious mind to refine them a bit at the end." One other song came along with LeBrecht's new pieces, a cover that seems wildly unlikely from the outside and makes total sense in its context: it's a version of Atoms for Peace's "Amok" (which had been created by improvisation and editing, too), mutated into her own idiolect.

In early March of 2020, LeBrecht recorded Holy Prana Open Game's analog synth parts with Martin Bisi at his studio in Brooklyn--and then the world shut down. As you may have gathered, LeBrecht is very much a spiritual, head-in-the-stars type. She is also extremely hardcore, and if making the art she wants to make means doing things the hard way, she cracks her knuckles and gets down to it. Within weeks, she had taught herself how to record, mix and edit with a digital audio workstation. She recorded her vocal parts (sometimes multi-tracked into a radiant choir) at home, assembled a rough mix of the album, and sent it off to her collaborators.

LeBrecht spent some years studying with and assisting La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela at their legendary sound-and-light installation, the Dream House. As with their work, her singular, precisely focused vision is shored up by its openness to artistic voices beyond her own. For Holy Prana Open Game, she worked with the Australian guitarist Mick Turner and drummer Jim White (both of Dirty Three, the Tren Brothers and innumerable other projects), as well as woodwind player David Lackner, a longtime presence on her recordings.

Turner and White have been playing together in one context or another since 1985; in the summer of 2020, they were only blocks from each other in Melbourne, Australia, whose strict lockdown meant they couldn't meet up to record together. So both of them, as well as Lackner, recorded their improvisational additions to LeBrecht's rough mixes individually, often without hearing each other's contributions. "I had asked them to play as much as they could on each track," she says, "and told them that I would edit it all down in post, so I had a lot of source material of theirs to work with."

LeBrecht arranged and edited the recordings from all four of their homes to flow together like breath across the duration of her suite. Prana, one of the album's central conceits, is in fact the Sanskrit word for breath, with the connotation of the breath of life. Like LeBrecht's music, prana flows at its own pace, and demands stillness to take in fully--but it's also subtly playful and surprising, a force that can be as light as air or as immersive as the atmosphere itself.