Buscar:six different ways

1970 album that marked a milestone in the history of Peruvian tropical music comprising an outstanding repertoire of Cuban rhythms as a response to the trends of the moment: boogaloo and Colombian cumbia. Guitarist Pancho Acosta lead the band and Kiko Fuentes delivered the vocals across some juicy descargas and guarachas. In the late sixties, a generation of young Peruvian musicians, who were fans of tropical sounds, chose Cuban rhythms over the onslaught of boogaloo and Colombian cumbia. This musical movement attracted a legion of young followers, mostly from popular districts of Lima. In 1969, percussionist Domingo Guzmán Villanueva was commissioned by the MAG record label to get together a group to revive Cuban musical tradition. To lead the project he recruited, Francisco "Pancho" Acosta, founder and guitarist of the Company Quinto. The new group was baptized Los Kintos, in a nod to their desire to carry on playing in the Compay Quinto style. The link between the two groups appears on this first album, as the group's name is written in two different ways: Los Kintos, on the front cover; and Los Quintos, on the back. Recordings began in 1969 and included the stunning 'Descarga Kinto', Richie Ray and Bobby Cruz's original 'Pancho Cristal' -renamed here 'Pancho Guzmán- and Cuban classics from the repertoire of the historic Trio Matamoros like 'Lágrimas Negras' or 'Mentiras', all with lead vocals by Kiko Fuentes. The success of their concerts would take them on tours across the country, always recognized as outstanding figures of Cuban music in Peru. This reissue brings back an album that marked a milestone in the history of Peruvian tropical music and revives the fame of the group's legendary live performances. First time vinyl reissue.

A new 6-track mini album from a musician with a long list of credits including South African trumpet legend Hugh Masekela, afrobeat co-creator Tony Allen and Ethiopian jazz originator Mulatu Astatke as well as many Brit-jazz and international roots artists. "It's Time" blends spiritual Afro-jazz groove with free improv, spoken poetry and other-worldly atmosphere, with lyrics and titles hinting at unorthodox takes on reality and the times we live in.

Phil Dawson is a top London guitarist who has worked and schooled himself extensively in many different African, Latin and Brazilian music traditions together with styles that more typically cross the radar of someone with a similar British background: roots reggae, punk rock, blues, soul, R'n'B, jazz and funk. As a sideman, he's played with a host of living legends of Afro-fusion music including South African jazz trumpet giant Hugh Masekela, Nigerian afrobeat co-creator Tony Allen, Ethiojazz pioneer Mulatu Astatke, the Algerian "king of rai" Khaled, and London based Ghanaian afro-rock dons Osibisa. Heavy company for sure.

Now he's releasing a new mini 6 track album of original compositions under his own name and band - Phil Dawson ٤-tet - and he's joined by a stellar cast of London's finest players who include Rowland Sutherland (flutes - Airto Moreira, David Murray, Carla Bley), Khadijatou Doyneh (spoken word - The Heliocentrics, Danny Keane), Gaspar Sena (drums - Alfa Mist, Maria Chiara Argiro), Marius Rodrigues (drums - Oriole, Hermeto Hermeto Hermeto), Lekan Babalola (percussion - Cassandra Wilson, Ali Farka Toure) and Matheus Nova (bass - Antonio Forcione, Ed Motta, Jazzinho). Phil himself features on guitars, Fender Rhodes and piano.

'This is great' - Gilles Peterson, BBC Radio 6 (on 'It's Time)

'Beautiful' - Kassin (producer Caetano Veloso, Sonzeira etc) (on 'It's

Time')

'Rapid-fire guitar work with variety and energy' – The Guardian, UK

'A great guitarist' – Tony Allen

'An absolute killer - irresistible' - Snowboy (on 'Gnostic Hilife')

'Phil Dawson and his (quintet) are really smoking at the mo. No wonder the London jazz young guns are ripping it up with bands

like this leading the way. Miss them at your peril' – Russ Jones (Future World Funk)

Jazzwise Review

The British guitarist Phil Dawson is a fixture of a plethora of Brit-jazz bands and international roots outfits; his nuanced stylings have graced the work of A-listers from Ethio-jazz guru Mulatu Astatke to such late African greats as Tony Allen and Hugh Masekela. Like any an in-demand session player worth his chops Dawson also fronts his own trio/quartet/quintet, all of which allow him to stretch out and do his own thing, which – with his quintet - he does to pleasing effect here.

Buoyed by flute, bass and percussion, It's Time is a six-track brew combining free improv and spoken word with Afro-spiritual groove and a far-out esotericism befitting these strangest of times. Opener 'It's Time (Radio Edit)' is a psychedelic romp through a beneficent cosmos where ringing chords and woodwind trills underpin Khaditjatou Doyneh's pathos-laden musings on love and the universe and one of three variations on a theme. Over three minutes longer at 9:34, 'It's Time (aka Ougama)' is a freewheeling instrumental made dazzling by Dawson's silver-fingered guitar work; Doyneh resumes her pronouncing on the more dissonant but equally mind expanding 'It's Time (Fully Spoken)'. Then there's 'Gnostic Hilife', whose three interpretations each juxtapose the structures of this West African lingua franca in ways tight, spacious and inventive

Not to add to the deluge of artistic clichés brought on by the Global Event Which Shall Not Be Named, but spending more or less a year in the house offers plenty of time for reflection, reevaluation, and revision. Though there was a lot to process already in those months, it was an opportune time to try and get your shit together, whatever that may mean for you. For Jakob Armstrong—in addition to many other things like the rest of us—part of it meant fine- tuning a collection of songs first recorded in late 2019. A prolonged process leading to five of the seven songs on Get Yourself a Friend retooled into their better-than-even final form. Jakob Armstrong—youngest son of Green Day frontman Billie Joe—began playing guitar at seven years old and honed his craft privately until about sixteen, playing in bands in and around Oakland after meeting friends with like-minded tastes in music. Soon enough, with the memories of Ultraman action figures fighting in his mind, he and a group of friends he cultivated from those years playing around and pouring over records, formed Ultra Q (its name inspired by an Ultraman prequel series). Opening double-shot “Pupkin” and “It’s Permanent” soar to the heights of Ultra Q’s powers in much different ways; the former a black-clad romp through a rainy graveyard, the former pushing straight to the clouds with its soaring chorus. “Straight Jacket” veers pleasantly close to the jangle-pop of the Go-Betweens. “Bowman” features guitars like cats getting into a scratch-fight while an astoundingly metronomic drumbeat is played live rather than punched out on a beat pad. Closing the EP is its title track, an affecting end credits anthem full of nostalgia and a twinge of regret. As a whole, Get Yourself a Friend marks the synthesis of a songwriter’s vision and his band’s ability, forged through an invisible existential threat and an ever-changing world, eager to show what they’ve found while we were all inside

Analog Africa Presents Edo Funk Explosion Vol. 1, available on
2xLP/Gatefold LP with 20-page booklet / CD with 36-page booklet. It was
in Benin City, in the heart of Nigeria, that a new hybrid of intoxicating
highlife music known as Edo Funk was born.
It first emerged in the late 1970s when a group of musicians began to experiment with different ways of integrating elements from their native Edo culture
and fusing them with new sound effects coming from West Africa s night-clubs.
Unlike the rather polished 1980 s Nigerian disco productions coming out of the
international metropolis of Lagos Edo Funk was raw and reduced to its bare
minimum.
Someone was needed to channel this energy into a distinctive sound and Sir
Victor Uwaifo appeared like a mad professor with his Joromi studio. Uwaifo
took the skeletal structure of Edo music and relentless began fusing them with
synthesizers, electric guitars and 80 s effect racks which resulted in some of the
most outstanding Edo recordings ever made. An explosive spiced up brew with
an odd psychedelic note known as Edo Funk.
That’s the sound you’ll be discovering in the first volume of the Edo Funk Explosion series which focusses on the genre’s greatest originators; Osayomore
Joseph, Akaba Man, and Sir Victor Uwaifo: Osayomore Joseph was one of the
first musicians to bring the sound of the flute into the horn-dominated world
of highlife, and his skills as a performer made him a fixture on the Lagos scene.
When he returned to settle in Benin City in the mid 1970s - at the invitation of
the royal family - he devoted himself to the modernisation and electrification
of Edo music, using funk and Afro-beat as the building blocks for songs that
weren’t afraid to call out government corruption or confront the dark legacy of
Nigeria’s colonial past.
Akaba Man was the philosopher king of Edo funk. Less overtly political than Osayomore Joseph and less psychedelic than Victor Uwaifo, he found the perfect
medium for his message in the trance-like grooves of Edo funk. With pulsating
rhythms awash in cosmic synth-fields and lyrics that express a deep personal
vision, he found great success at the dawn of the 1980s as one of Benin City’s
most persuasive ambassadors of funky highlife.
Victor Uwaifo was already a star in Nigeria when he built the legendary Joromi
studios in his hometown of Benin City in 1978. Using his unique guitar style as
the mediating force between West-African highlife and the traditional rhythms
and melodies of Edo music, he had scored several hits in the early seventies,
but once he had his own sixteen-track facility he was able to pursue his obsession with the synesthetic possibilities of pure sound, adding squelchy synths,
swirling organs and studio effects to hypnotic basslines and raw grooves. Between his own records and his production for other musicians, he quickly established himself as the godfather of Edo funk.
What unites these diverse musicians is their ability to strip funk down to its
primal essence and use it as the foundation for their own excursions inward to
the heart of Edo culture and outward to the furthest limits of sonic alchemy.
The twelve tracks on Edo Funk Explosion Volume 1 pulse with raw inspiration,
mixing highlife horns, driving rhythms, day-glo keyboards and tripped-out guitars into a funk experience unlike any other.

Zwerm is a Belgian-Dutch electric guitar quartet (with a backyard rehearsal shed located in Antwerp) that operates along the borders between styles and traverses traditions that are typically not convergent. Zwerm rhymes Larry Polansky with Nadah El Shazly and are galvanized by the likes of guitars pioneers like The Velvet Underground and Sonic Youth, the microtonal DYI-er Harry Partch, Middle Eastern sonorities and the prog-madness of Kind Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard. ‘Musical adventure’ is not just a hollow cliché for this quartet, but a genuine commitment. Zwerm calls itself a ‘guitar quartet’, but that can be interpreted broadly as well as with a pinch of salt: “If we want to do something on instruments we don’t really master, we’ll just figure out a way to make it work.”
Toon Callier, Johannes Westendorp, Kobe van Cauwenberghe and Bruno Nelissen all met in 2007 while working on a project with Glenn Branca. A new guitar quartet was born and it became clear rather quickly that staying in the strictly contemporary compositions lane was not for this quartet-with-five-to-six-members (an organizational chart is available upon request).
An appetite for new and lasting collaborations has been a constant theme throughout their artistic parcours. The group has shared stages with theatrical producers like Walpurgis and Post uit Hessdalen, dancers such as Ecce and with the musicians Fred Frith, Stephen O’Malley, Shiva Feshareki, Rudy Trouvé, Mauro Pawlowski, Larry Polansky, Eric Thielemans, Yannis Kyriakides, François Sarhan, Serge Verstockt and Stefan Prins. These projects have not always translated into records, but they have been decisive in creating a unique musical approach. In 2015, when Zwerm was asked by De Handelsbeurs to collaborate with Fred Frith, they proceeded to pen a few new musical sketches over which Firth sublimely improvised. In 2018 ‘Badminton in Tehran’ was released, their first record that was made up completely of only the group’s compositions.
“a basket full of buttons here
and if you push the wrong one: fear
and if you push the right one: love
or maybe none of the above”
The route that Zwerm has taken is often defined by the question “What if... ?” - like a dart thrown at a musical map, not quite blindly, but naive enough to lead to unexpected endings.
“What if we play Renaissance pieces written by John Dowland, but instead of playing lutes we play these tunes with a Telecaster – and then jam it through effect pedals and an amplifier?”
“What if we connect one hundred guitar pedals and just leave our guitars at home?”
“What if we record a record with ten different one-page-pieces that we found on the Internet?”
In 2020 our metaphorical dart landed on “What if we tried microtonality?”.
‘Microtonality’ sounds a bit creepy, but actually there is nothing to be afraid of: there are no out-of- tune notes, just alternate notes. On the continents where Western musical theory is less stringently applied, microtonality is the rule, and has become the subject of many deep and thoughtfully written theories. However for Zwerm, this phenomenon occurs in many, often surprisingly lighthearted forms. A dilapidated piano that has settled into a beautiful microtonal tuning of its own accord, enthusiastic choral singing, a guitar whose three strings are tuned a quarter-tone higher, a saz (Turkishquarter-tone lute), a maddening guitar pedal, ...
"the dreams they were convicted for telling only lies reality came after for claiming to be wise what you don’t see is what you get just never light a spark I’m a crow in the dark”
“And… what if we work with a drummer?” Enter Karen Willems - dummer, extraordinaire, and ardent player in groups, projects and collaborations galore. One chance meeting and the deal was done. It was obvious before the start that Willems was the versatile and creative percussionist-in-a-toy-store necessary for this project. And in the studio, to our delight, she demonstrated an easy dexterity when switching quickly from one idea to the next.
At the reins behind the scenes was producer Rudy Trouvé, who – during previous sessions for ‘Badminton in Terhran’, when the classically trained guitarists went completely off the rails, staring deeply and forlornly into their scores, looking for answers – was able to pinpoint the problem and get the wagons rolling in the right direction again. Completing the team were Mark Dedecker (recording)and Joris Calluwaerts (mixing).
The results are in and it’s called ‘ Great Expectations’ – a title that, in several ways, fits perfectly with these strange times.‘Great Expectations’ goes wide! Zwerm is at its best when it can run along the borders between style and across traditions that otherwise would not necessarily intersect. The most straightforward rockers have a proggy tinge while the dreamy psychedelic songs lean more toward Richard Youngs. And if a nice melody dared come to close to becoming a ‘Kit-Katjingle’, then barbs-a-la-Pere-Ubu were trailed, tracked, found and promptly embedded. ‘Heavy Machinery’ sits neatly somewhere between Captain Beefheart and Richard Wagner, and ‘On My Way To Aguno’, set to an Iranian folk song chord progression, grew into a hyper-personal lullaby. Zwerm used the saz (Turkish lute) and the sinter (Moroccan gnawa bass instrument) without falling into pastiche psychedelia, but you can still sense the orient.

Sam Gendel’s new album, DRM, is the follow-up to his Nonesuch debut, Satin Doll, released earlier this year. DRM features Gendel’s solo musical experiments with vintage instruments such as a forty-year-old Electro Harmonix DRM32 drum machine, antique synthesizers, and a sixty-year-old nylon-string guitar — accompanied by his voice. While Satin Doll was a futuristic homage to classic jazz, DRM includes just one cover song: Lil Nas X’s ‘Old Town Road’, which Gendel interprets as an instrumental, playing the melody on an old German analogue synthesizer. The album’s accompanying short films were directed by Marcella Cytrynowicz and filmed at various locations around Gendel’s home state of California during COVID lockdown.



“I’m imagining people listening to DRM and thinking, ‘What the hell is this?’, like they’d just encountered some sailing ship in the sky,” Gendel says of the new work. “I imagine it as if someone many years into the future listened to the popular music of today and then tried to recreate it, without any of the tools or the understanding. Stylistically, it’s not too far from so much contemporary pop-rap music that you hear on the radio. A lot of those electronic backgrounds and instrumentals you hear today are tending towards something really out-there and experimental. It’s rhythmic and pointillistic, collaging different, seemingly unfitting elements together in cool ways. The visuals aren’t necessarily dictated by the music, but they both share the same slightly surreal feel, like I’m a video game character, inhabiting all these different backgrounds,” says Gendel.



Gendel is best known as a world-class saxophonist — it’s the instrument with which he’s led most of his bands, as well as the instrument on which he’s guested with the likes of Vampire Weekend, Ry Cooder, Moses Sumney, Sam Amidon, and Louis Cole’s Knower — but DRM is saxophone-free. “There was no active effort on my part not to include it; it just wasn’t part of the equation when I started recording it,” he says. “I just found a formula, working around this DRM32 drum machine, and rolled with it. I don’t consider myself just a saxophonist, I’m just someone who works in music.”



DRM was recorded in one sixteen-hour session, and then manipulated by Gendel with electronic percussionist Philippe Melanson. It was mixed by Blake Mills, and mastered by Grammy-nominated engineer Mike Bozzi. Gendel’s previous discography includes 2018’s Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar with bassist Sam Wilkes, 4444, and Satin Doll, which the Los Angeles Times called “a woozy, blissfully twisted album.” He also performs on two other Nonesuch releases this month: Joachim Cooder’s Over That Road I’m Bound and Sam Amidon’s new self-titled album.

Jan St. Werneris A Critically Acclaimed And Internationally Recognized Sound Innovator. In A Myriad Of Ways, As A Solo Artist, A Collaborator, Through His Group Mouse On Mars, As A Producer , Or As A Course Instructor At Mit, Werner Has Challenged Traditional Approaches To Creating And Experiencing Music. The Sixth Installment Of His Fiepblatter Catalogue Series, Glottal Wolpertinger, Endeavors To Transcribe The Phenomenon Of Sound As Anarchic And Highly Sensitive Material. His Multilayered Presentation Of The Project Highlights The Ways In Which Sound And Music Can uctuate And Morph Depending On Context. In Keeping With The Series' Collaborative Nature, The Pieces Include Contributions From Guitarists Aaron & Bryce Dessner Of The National, Who Werner Also Collaborated With On Mouse On Mars' Dimensional People, And The National's Sleep Well Beast. Glottal Wolpertinger Was Initially Conceived As A Radio Installation For Documenta 14 With Each Of The Tracks Broadcasting Individually Over The Course Of Ten Weeks And Culminating In A Convergence Of All Eight Tracks At A Performance In Athens. The Pieces Consist Of Microtonally Tuned Feedback, Multispectral Drones Which Werner Modulated And Fltered With A Purposeful, And Indeed Vocalized, Emphasis Given To The Different Frequencies And Textures Used. Glottal Wolpertinger's Incarnation As A Recording Is No Less Potent Than Its Preceding Forms, But Serves As A Continuation Of The Project's Evolution As A Distinct Listening Experience.

Limited Edition Clear Vinyl

Includes 12' Vinyl and Deluxe CD album, 30 page hard back book

Now that I've been to Nashville,' Kylie Minogue says with audible affection, I understand. It's like some sort of musical ley-line...'

Golden, Kylie's fourteenth studio album, is the result of an intensive working trip to the home of Country music, a city whose influence lingered on long after the pop legend and her team returned to London to finish the record: We definitely brought a bit of Nashville back with us,' she states. The album is a vibrant hybrid, blending Kylie's familiar pop-dance sound with an unmistakeable Tennessee twang. It was Jamie Nelson, Kylie's long-serving A&R man, who first came up with the concept of incorporating a Country element' into Kylie's tried-and-trusted style. That idea sat there for a little while, with Minogue and her team initially unsure about how to bring it to life. Then, when Grammy-winning songwriter Amy Wadge's publisher suggested Kylie should come over to collaborate in Nashville, a city Kylie had previously never visited, something clicked. You know when you're so excited about something,' she recalls, that you repeat it an octave higher and double the decibels I was like that. 'Nashville! Yes! Of course I would!'. I hoped it would help the album to reveal itself. I thought 'If I don't get it in Nashville, I'm not going to get it anywhere.''

Kylie's Nashville trip involved working alongside two key writers, both with homes in the city. One was British-born songwriter Steve McEwan (whose credits include huge Country hits for Keith Urban, Kenny Chesney and Carrie Underwood), and the other was the aforementioned Amy Wadge, another Brit (best known for her mega-selling work with Ed Sheeran). It was then a truly international project: Golden was mainly created with African-German producer Sky Adams and a list of contributors including Jesse Frasure, Eg White, Jon Green, Biff Stannard, Samuel Dixon, Danny Shah and Lindsay Rimes, and there's a duet with English singer Jack Savoretti.

However, the album's agenda-setting lead single Dancing was, significantly, first demoed with Nathan Chapman, the man who guided Taylor Swift's transition from Country starlet to Pop megastar. If anyone knows how to mix those two genres, Chapman does. Nathan was the only actual Nashvillean I worked with. He's got a huge studio in his house, which is probably due to his success with Taylor... there's plenty of platinum discs of her, and others on his walls.' There's something of the spirit of Peggy Lee's Is That All There Is, of Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, even of Liza Minnelli's Cabaret about Dancing, a song which not only opens the album but sets out its stall, providing a microcosm of what is to come. You've got the lyrical edge, that Country feel, mixed with some sampling of the voice and electronic elements, so it does what it says on the label. And I love that it's called 'Dancing', it's immediately accessible and seemingly so obvious, but there's depth within the song.'

The experience of simply being in Nashville was an overwhelming one, before Kylie had even arrived. Once I knew I was going to Nashville, people talked about the place with such enthusiasm. They said without doubt I would love it and, I would come back with songs. They were sending lists of restaurants, coffee shops and bars. It really was a beautiful and genuine response and it felt like I was about to have a life changing experience and in a way, I did.' The reality came as something of a surprise, when she found a far more modern metropolis than the vintage one she'd envisaged. I thought it would be like New Orleans: little houses and bars, with music spilling out onto the street. It reminded me more of Melbourne: apartment blocks going up everywhere! The main strip, Broadway, where the honky tonk bars are, that's where the street was filled with music and it was just amazing.' Mainly, Minogue remembers the heat and humidity. It was 100 degrees. It was like it was raining with no rain.' She also relished the chance to wander around unrecognised, visit a few venerable music bars and soak in the atmosphere. I didn't get to the Grand Ole Opry or the music museums but I managed to go to a couple of the institutions there like The Bluebird Cafe and The Listening Room, and just by being there, through some kind of osmosis, you get this rejuvenated respect for The Song, and the writing of The Song. There's no hoo-hah around it. There's a singer-songwriter there, talking about the song and singing the song, to an audience who are there to listen. Although, I have to confess I was guilty of starting to clap too soon during a long pause at the end of one of the songs. The guy made a bit of a joke out of it and got a laugh from it, but I thought 'Of all people in the audience, no...''

It's probably no coincidence, therefore, that every track on Golden is a Kylie co-write, making it arguably her most personal album to date. The end of 2016 was not a good time for me,' she says, referring to well-documented personal upheavals, so when I started working on the album in 2017, it was, in many ways, a great escape. Making this album was a kind of saviour. I'd been through some turmoil and was quite fragile when I started work on it, but being able to express myself in the studio made quick work of regaining my sense of self. Writing about various aspects of my life, the highs and lows, with a real sense of knowing and of truth. And irony. And joy!'

The songwriting process allowed Kylie to get a few things out of her system. Initially, she admits, it was cathartic, but it also wasn't very good. I think I was writing too literally. But I reached a point where I was writing about the bigger-picture, and that was a breakthrough. It made way for songs like Stop Me From Falling and One Last Kiss. It also meant I had enough distance to write an autobiographical song, like A Lifetime To Repair, with a certain amount of humour. The countdown in that song: 'Six-five-four-three, too many times...'. I don't know if that will be a single, but I can just imagine a girl with framed pictures of past boyfriends, and kind of going 'Oh god, when am I going to get this right'' When she listens back to Golden, Kylie can vividly hear the Nashville in it. It is, she'll agree, probably the first time that a Kylie album has sounded like the place it was made. You wouldn't normally relate my songs to the cities. Can't Get You Out Of My Head sounds more like Outer Space than London. But Shelby '68, for example, was written in London but it was done with Nashville in mind. It's about my Dad's car, and my brother recorded Dad driving it! I don't think I'd have written a number of the songs, including Shelby '68 and Radio On without having had that Nashville experience.'

The latter, she says, is about music being the one to save you.' Throwing herself into the making of the record, she says, crystallised that idea. If there's one love that will always be there for you, it's music. Well, it is for me, anyway.' That song, in particular, carries nostalgic echoes of the golden age of Country, as heard through Medium Wave transistors and tinny home stereos in the distant past. Like any child of the Seventies, Kylie had a basic grounding in Country music, mainly absorbed from older family members. My Step-Grandfather was born in Kentucky and though he lived most of his adult life in Australia, he never stopped listening to his beloved Country artists.' If there's any classic Country singer whose imprint can be heard on Golden, it's Dolly Parton.

Kylie saw Dolly live for the first time at the end of 2016, at the Hollywood Bowl. It was like seeing the light,' she beams. It was incredible. Everyone, whether they know it or not, is a Dolly Parton fan. When I was in Nashville, I did pick up a T-shirt that said 'What Would Dolly Do' Maybe that should be my mantra.' And, whether consciously or otherwise, there's a timbre and trill to Kylie's vocals on Radio On that is distinctly Parton-esque. My delivery is quite different on this album,' she says. A lot of things are 'sung' less. The first time I did that was with Where The Wild Roses Grow. On the day I met Nick Cave, when I recorded my vocals, he said 'Just sing it less. Talk it through, tell the story.' This album wasn't quite to that extreme, but a lot of the songs were done in fewer takes, to just capture the moment and keep imperfections that add to the song. I remember on my last album, a lot of producers were trying to take out literally every vibrato they heard. And that's not natural to my voice. I mean, I can make myself sound like a robot, but it's nice to sound like a human!' Working within the Country genre also gave Kylie permission to write in the Nashville vernacular. Because we were going there, I wasn't afraid to have lines like 'When he's fallen off the wagon we'd still dance to our favourite slow song', 'Ten sheets to the wind, I was all confused', 'I'll take the ride if it's your rodeo'. The challenge of bringing a Country element to the album made the process feel very fresh to me, kind of like starting over. I started to look at writing a different way, singing a different way.'

If ever Kylie lost confidence in the Country-Pop concept, and found herself pondering This is great, but back in the real world - my real world - how will this work', Jamie Nelson was there to badger her into sticking to the path. We found a way to make it a hybrid with what we'll call my 'usual' sound. It had to stay 'pop' enough to stay authentic to me, but country enough to be a new sound for this album. The closer we zoomed in, and the more we honed it, I knew Jamie was right. We sacrificed good songs that weren't right for this album, because we wanted it to be as cohesive as possible. The songs that were hitting the mark were these ones, so we decided to be strong, and that's how we wrapped up the album. What he said, that stuck with me, was that 'I'd hate to get to the end of this and really wish we'd gone for it.'' Having worked with Kylie for so long, Nelson was able to put this latest shift of direction into perspective. He said 'You've traditionally done it throughout your career. You had your PWL time, then you did a complete turn when you went to deConstruction, then another complete turn with Spinning Around, and R&B dance-pop, and then another turn with Can't Get You Out Of My Head, icy synth-pop, and this is another one.' He was right. It felt like the right time to have a change sonically. New label, new stories to tell, and a new decade almost upon me.'

Kylie Minogue will, it's scarcely believable, turn 50 this year. This looming milestone is partly behind the album's title, and title track. I had this line that I wanted to use: 'We're not young, we're not old, we're golden' because I'm asked so often about being my age in this industry. This year, I'll be 50. And I get it, I get the interest, but I don't know how to answer it. And that line, for my personal satisfaction, says it as succinctly as possible. We can't be anyone else, we can't be younger or older than we are, we can only be ourselves. We're golden. And the album title, Golden, reflects all of this. I liked the idea of everyone being golden, shining in their own way. The sun shines in daylight, the moon shines in darkness. Wherever we are in life, we are still golden.' One of the album's shiniest moments is Raining Glitter, an exuberant banger which ventures closest to Kylie's traditional dance-pop comfort zone. Eg White, who is one of the producers and writers and a great character, was talking about disco one day. I said 'I love disco, but you know the brief.' We needed to be going down the Country lane, so to speak. But we managed to bring them both together. When I wrote it, I was thinking about the Jacksons video for Can You Feel It where they're sprinkling glitter over everyone. And I think there's a Donna Summer record that's got that feel to it. I think that's my job: I basically leave a trail of glitter after every show I do anyway.'

Kylie is looking forward to the challenge of incorporating the Golden material into her live shows. Mixing these songs in with my existing catalogue is going to be fun. And it could be fun to do some of those songs with just a guitar. It'll make my acoustic set interesting...'Her incredibly loyal fans - to whom one Golden song, Sincerely Yours, is intended as a love letter' - will, she believes, have no problem with her latest stylistic shift. My audience have been with me on the journey, so I shouldn't be afraid that they won't come with me on this part. I've had fun with it, and I'm sure they will too.'

The time spent making Golden has, Kylie says, been a time of creative and personal renewal. I've met some amazing people, truly inspiring writers and musicians. My passion for music has never gone away, but it's got bigger and stronger.' And if there's an overriding theme to the record, it is one of acceptance. We're all human and it's OK to make mistakes, get it wrong, to want to run, to want to belong, to love, to dream. To be ourselves.'

I was able to both lose and find myself whilst making this album.'

The warm dim light of the bedside lamp conjures up a kind of shadow theatre, sends the little stars on the ceiling into a spin, and fills the bedroom with a sense of profound peace. A small music box rounds out the evening atmosphere with soft little melodies. Perched at the side of his daughter's little bed, he watches over his little beat princess' slumber and her dreams, all while enjoying with satisfaction the unencumbered lightness of being at night...

The EP Hannah by the Leipzig-based beatmaker Duktus is a musical tribute to his three-year-old daughter and a personal instrumentalization of fatherhood.

A story told from Duktus' point of view in six different pieces, we can become part of little Hannah's world, as she plays in her room and runs around the playground, goes on adventures during the day and dreams at night.

In EP Hannah, Duktus casts his musical gaze backward in two different ways - both in terms of the experience of being a father and the moments, great and small, that this involves, as well as in terms of his musical influences over the past three years. This produces an atmosphere which, however, does not waver from Duktus' musical direction between uptempo broken beats and downbeat house grooves.

The EP Hannah cover was painted by Hannah herself at the age of two. And it is being produced in a complicated silk-screen process, printed in purple - Lila's favorite color! - on uncoated paper, making for a tactile homage to the little beat princess.

It is only a matter of time before Hannah discovers the record for herself as well. She already got her own record player as a present - from her dad, of course - and is a big fan of old fairy tale records. In the eyes and ears of a DJ and beatmaker, this is all a matter of early musical education.
- I dedicate this record to my daughter Hannah'
- Duktus -