Suche:something else!

Having already unearthed three collections of archival ‘70s recordings by Catherine Christer Hennix, Blank Forms continues their annual illumination of the visionary Swedish composer’s music by turning to more recent work with this first-time vinyl edition of Hennix’s “Blues Alif Lam Mim in the Mode of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis,” a 2014 piece first released as a CD in 2016 (Important Records).

The double album captures the April 22, 2014 premiere of Hennix’s composition by by the Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, her expanded just intonation ensemble, featuring a brass section of Amir ElSaffar, Paul Schwingenschlögl, Hilary Jeffery, Elena Kakaliagou, and Robin Hayward; live electronics by Stefan Tiedje and Marcus Pal; and voice by Amirtha Kidambi, Imam Ahmet Muhsin Tüzer, and Hennix herself. Intended to reveal the blues’ origins in the eastern musical traditions of raga and makam, “Blues Alif Lam Mim in the Mode of Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis” has its roots in Hennix’s 2013 realization of an “Illuminatory Sound Environment,” a concept developed in 1978 by anti-artist Henry Flynt on the basis of Hennix’s own “The Electric Harpsichord.”

As Hennix explains in Other Matters, Blank Forms’ 2019 collection of her writings:

“Rag Infinity/Rag Cosmosis presents fragments of ‘raga-like’ frequency constellations following distinct cycles and permuting their order, creating a simultaneity of ‘multi-universes.’ When two such ‘universes’ come in proximity of each other and begin unfolding simultaneously along distinct cycles, there is a kaleidoscopic exfoliation of frequencies as one universe is becoming two, but not separated—the effect of cosmosis is entrained, binding two or more frequency universes into proximity where their modal properties interact and blend, creating in the process entirely new microtonal constellations in an omnidirectional simultaneous cosmic order with phenomenologically ‘transfinite’ Poincaré cycles (cyclic returns to initial conditions).”

As with Hennix’s best work, the organic unfolding of this quivering drone belies a precision that opens onto the infinitesimal. Upon its mesmerizing ebb and flow, the vocalists incant a devotional poem written in Arabic by Hennix and featuring quotations from the Quran. Also reproduced on the album’s gatefold jacket, Hennix’s reduction of the sacred text to its most elegant formulation invites the contemplator to bring their inner knowledge to the composition for use as a prompt for meditation. Yet the piece offers depth to even the most secular listener willing to immerse themselves in music brimming with such serene intensity.

Catherine Christer Hennix (b. 1948) started her creative life playing drums with her older brother Peter, growing up in Sweden where she heard jazz luminaries, such as John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Dexter Gordon, Archie Shepp, and Cecil Taylor perform from 1960 to 1967. Directly after high school, Hennix went to work at Stockholm’s pioneering Elektronmusikstudion (EMS), where she developed early tape music, incorporating computer generated speech done at the Royal Technological University (KTH), where she was an undergraduate student. After traveling to New York In 1968, she met artists Dick Higgins and Alison Knowles who invited her to stay at the Something Else Press Town House where she had the opportunity to meet, among others, composers John Cage, James Tenney, and Phil Corner. During the following years she developed fruitful collaborative relationships with many composers in the burgeoning American avant-garde, including, most significantly, Henry Flynt and La Monte Young. Young introduced Hennix to Hindustani raga master Pandit Pran Nath and she would later study intensively under him as his first European disciple. While Hennix continued to make music performing alongside Arthur Russell, Marc Johnson, Henry Flynt, and Arthur Rhames, she also served as a professor of Mathematics and Computer Science at SUNY New Paltz and as a visiting Professor of Logic (at Marvin Minsky’s invitation) at MIT’s Artificial Intelligence Laboratory. In recent years Hennix has led the just-intonation ensemble the Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, which has featured musicians Amelia Cuni, Amirtha Kidambi, Chiyoku Szlavnics, Hilary Jeffrey, Amir El-Saffar, Benjamin Duboc and Rozemarie Heggen. She currently resides in Istanbul, Turkey pursuing studies in classical Arabic and Turkish makam.

Finnish producer Sasu Ripatti has been torching the fringes of electronic music since the mid 1990s, a process that's found him melting a wide spectrum of musical innovation into his cult brand of experimental minimalism. From the skeletal jazz deconstructions of his 1997 Vladislav Delay debut "The Kind of Blue EP" to the blurred dub techno variations of 2000's "Multila" and 2012's "Kuopio", Ripatti has betrayed a restless, voracious passion for sound. "Fun is Not A Straight Line" builds on this impressive legacy, retaining his sonic signature and adding a playfulness that harks back to his beloved deep house smash, Luomo's "Vocalcity". After becoming frustrated by the inflexibility of the 4/4 house idiom, Ripatti found solace in rap and bass music's rhythmic complexity and anarchic structures. "I bought Nas's 'Illmatic' when it came out in '94 and have more or less been listening to rap since," he explains. "I'm not really sure why now, but that rap influence wanted to come through." Chopped rap vocals, booming subs and gritty, neck-snapping beats are the primary colors of "Fun is Not A Straight Line", painted into the foreground and blended into an immediately recognizable rhythmic palette. The tracks cross into the same continuum as Chicago footwork, with stuttering samples that build thick walls of bass and flurries of wordless rhymes amid a narcotic haze of beats. On 'monolith', Ripatti's love of New York rap is in full focus as he obscures chipmunked vocals with tight, crackling percussion that disintegrates into rolling kicks; 'speedmemories' is even more upfront, channeling the raw sunshine energy of So So Def electro into rhythms that are powerfully skeletal. Elsewhere, syrupy Southern-fried TR-808 bass womps are tangled with molasses-slow vocals on 'videophonekitty', fuzzed into textured, dissociated ambience. Since the beginning, Ripatti has tried to find a balance between his experimental urges and drive to create more universal music. As his more recent albums have traveled into darker, more extreme realms, he has craved something different for balance. By drawing a crooked line between DJ Premier, DJ Screw and DJ Rashad, Sasu Ripatti has emerged with the most accessible and unashamedly enjoyable album he's produced in years.

Repress

Calibre's mighty wind has blown through the drum 'n' bass scene ever since his first tentative forays into production in 1998. As a trained musician and student of the genre, he quickly developed a unique sound that was warm, orchestral and hypnotic. Attracting the attention of tastemakers like Fabio, the Belfast-born producer and DJ was encouraged to work harder and faster on this liquid funk, resulting in what would become his signature sound. By the time his sophomore album, "Second Sun", came into orbit, Calibre was recognised as a shining star of the scene.

One of the few who had realised the potential of the album format, he crafted dubbed out house grooves, jazzier downtempo numbers, and introspective vocal-led tracks amongst the more trad tempos the largely dancefloor single-based genre was known for.

The album is awash with high points, from the anthemic "Drop It Down", to the more reflective MC tracks like "Timeout" and "Blink Of An Eye". Most producers would labour over such delicately balanced arrangements for weeks, but the fact that Calibre can knock such masterworks out in a matter of hours tells you how effortlessly and naturally his music comes to him.

"Working quickly gives me a unique and personal sound," says Calibre. "It also helps that I like to sample my own playing. Any type of instrument I could get my hands on, I'd record it live. Maybe quite badly, but I still did it. It helped create my own sound. If you can play an instrument, and you can play it with a little bit of passion and a little bit of love, it'll give you something back."

In the fourteen years that have passed (Second Sun dropped in October, 2005) Calibre has written more material than quite possibly anyone else in the scene, and this year shows no sign of him slowing up. Besides the usual wealth of remixes in the pipeline, and a forthcoming techno album on Craig Richards' label, a sixth Shelflife compilation of unreleased Calibre material will be dropping on his own Signature Records label. But for now, let's rewind the story, as the man himself takes us, track by track, through Second Sun.

clear blue vinyl

Stockholm native Viggo Dyst joins Shall Not Fade's roster for their new Classic Cuts series, serving up ear candy and sparkling sounds on Everything Else Is Secondary EP. Fresh from a successful release with Swedish label Vivrant, he is also joined by stalwarts of the scene Baltra and 1800-GIRLS for two gorgeous reworks.

The title track is a breathless, hopeful opener that overflows with feel good energy, sunshine melodies and personality. Baltra flips the lead melody into a hazey, UKG style club remix, maintaining the shimmering core - while 1800-GIRLS creates something tenser, a persistent beat and a warped breakdown.

On the B side, "Time After Time" carries strong Aphex Twin influence pairing sombre orchestral instrumentation with a hurtling yet delicate break throughout. "Weekend Special" is a classic Shall Not Fade sound; gentle, swelling house that needs to be danced to, closing out the record on a high.

Finnish producer Sasu Ripatti has been torching the fringes of electronic music since the mid 1990s, a process that's found him melting a wide spectrum of musical innovation into his cult brand of experimental minimalism. From the skeletal jazz deconstructions of his 1997 Vladislav Delay debut "The Kind of Blue EP" to the blurred dub techno variations of 2000's "Multila" and 2012's "Kuopio", Ripatti has betrayed a restless, voracious passion for sound. "Fun is Not A Straight Line" builds on this impressive legacy, retaining his sonic signature and adding a playfulness that harks back to his beloved deep house smash, Luomo's "Vocalcity". After becoming frustrated by the inflexibility of the 4/4 house idiom, Ripatti found solace in rap and bass music's rhythmic complexity and anarchic structures. "I bought Nas's 'Illmatic' when it came out in '94 and have more or less been listening to rap since," he explains. "I'm not really sure why now, but that rap influence wanted to come through." Chopped rap vocals, booming subs and gritty, neck-snapping beats are the primary colors of "Fun is Not A Straight Line", painted into the foreground and blended into an immediately recognizable rhythmic palette. The tracks cross into the same continuum as Chicago footwork, with stuttering samples that build thick walls of bass and flurries of wordless rhymes amid a narcotic haze of beats. On 'monolith', Ripatti's love of New York rap is in full focus as he obscures chipmunked vocals with tight, crackling percussion that disintegrates into rolling kicks; 'speedmemories' is even more upfront, channeling the raw sunshine energy of So So Def electro into rhythms that are powerfully skeletal. Elsewhere, syrupy Southern-fried TR-808 bass womps are tangled with molasses-slow vocals on 'videophonekitty', fuzzed into textured, dissociated ambience. Since the beginning, Ripatti has tried to find a balance between his experimental urges and drive to create more universal music. As his more recent albums have traveled into darker, more extreme realms, he has craved something different for balance. By drawing a crooked line between DJ Premier, DJ Screw and DJ Rashad, Sasu Ripatti has emerged with the most accessible and unashamedly enjoyable album he's produced in years.

Perila (Aleksandra Zakharenko) left her native Russia six years ago, landing in Berlin. Finding her place almost immediately - first at Berlin Community Radio and through that amongst a group of like-minded creative individuals (including her current flatmates Special Guest DJ and exael) - she started a regular practice of working on an expressionistic "sonic diary" of field recordings and electronic sound research for her own pleasure. When the opportunity arose to create her own podcast series, WET (or Weird Erotic Tension) was born. Upon hearing her evocative and atmospheric music layered with friends Nat Marcus and Inger Wold Lund's erotic spoken word poetry, Sferic Records asked to release it, and Perila - a project name originally used for her BCR show - truly came to be. Aleksandra, who was raised in St. Petersburg, has been involved in music since childhood thanks to her melomaniac father. She's been both drummer and singer in local bands in Russia, and is also the co-founder of radio.syg.ma - one of the first online stations in Russian focusing on experimental sounds - but Perila is something else entirely. You could loosely describe it as ambient, but her soundworld is so specific and transportative, filled with detail and movement, it's more akin to hauntological musique concrète, touched by song. Her fascination with voice and language - she studied English literature at university - is still evident, although that's now her voice, her texts, her crooning you can hear on the Everything Is Already There cassette (Boomkat Editions, 2020), her processed breaths on the Meta Door L cassette (Paralaxe Editions, 2020). The Wire Magazine got it right when they said about Irer Dent that, "Sensuality is presented as a secret pass to a higher consciousness." For her debut album, How Much Time it is Between You and Me?, released via Smalltown Supersound on June 11th, Aleksandra takes inspiration from the concept of time, which she felt keenly during the pandemic. Recorded primarily in September 2020 in a rural village in France - her only travel during the first year of the pandemic period - surrounded by mountains but otherwise alone with no internet, her perception of time there differed immensely. She describes the trip as, "an immersive experience into self," viewed through a "silence prism" where everyday sounds usually ignored felt amplified. While her work has always dealt in intimacy - be it the private thrills of WET or the audible closeness of our surroundings - the organic response and consistent feedback she gets for Perila made Aleksandra recognize a longing, a need for it in today's world. Intent on creating work based in honesty and tenderness, Perila's practice also explores how we feel music and emotion throughout the body and how sound can help to release it. How does the sound enter a body and travel through it? Where does movement start? How do you reach and unblock emotional clusters with the help of sound and deep listening of the body responses? Aleksandra likes to describe her music and performances as trips - thick narratives drifting along sound to get closer to self. Let Perila guide you through this journey.

‘Miracle’ is the new album from Manchester singer songwriter Francis Lung,
released on Memphis Industries.
“For me, ‘Miracle’ is about the struggle between my self-destructive side and my
problem-solving, constructive side,” says Francis. “I suppose through a lot of
these songs I’m dealing with these emotional problems, acknowledging the
negative aspects of my behaviour instead of burying them, and providing an
alternative point of view for myself.”
Despite its serious subject matter, ‘Miracle’ is far from austere in sound, marrying
the cinematic, dreamlike quality of Francis’s earlier music with the pared-back
charm of great singer-songwriters like Judee Sill, Jeff Tweedy and Elliott Smith.
The album opens with ‘Bad Hair Day’, a relentlessly catchy - and deceptively
upbeat - ode to hangovers and missed connections. “I’ve been calling on you all
night / But I never get through, I just get in the way” Francis laments; “I am a
cloud in the sun’s light / Whatever I do, whatever I say.”
Elsewhere, the title track finds him pondering the fickle nature of the music
industry: “I think of [‘Miracle’] as acknowledging and even encouraging the
feelings we’re not supposed to succumb to - giving up, giving in - just because it
can be comforting to hear it from someone else. ‘Why am I climbing these social
ladders and jumping through the hoops of this creative industry? Does this make
me happy?’”
These themes of longing and lacking, missing and being missed, reoccur
throughout ‘Miracle. “When I die / Will I be missed / Or am I missing the point?”
asks ‘Say So’; while ‘Lonesome No More’, inspired by the Kurt Vonnegut book of
the same name, begs the question: if loneliness was eradicated, would we miss
it?
By confronting these feelings, Francis is able to move forward, as triumphant
album closer ‘The Let Down’ proves. Its lyrics serve as a call to action, as
Francis wills himself (and the listener) to “Get up / Get something going / Do
something, do it / Do it now.”
‘Miracle’ was produced by Francis in collaboration with Brendan Williams (Dutch
Uncles, Matthew Halsall, Kiran Leonard) and Robin Koob (who co-arranged and
performed strings). The opportunity to take creative control was one Francis
relished. “I’m quite bad at delegating,” he admits, noting that he played every
instrument except strings on ‘Miracle’. The result is a cohesive, deeply personal
record, which is as vital as it is vulnerable. “I don’t want to be defined by my
anxiety, my depression or any history of substance abuse,” Francis says, “but I
do want to reach out to other people who have had similar experiences,
especially if it’s in a way that helps them feel a little better. To me, this music is
celebrating healing as much as it focuses on the darker sides of the human
psyche.”

Ambient instrumental version of Steve Von Till’s previous release No Wilderness Deep Enough.
Limited Violet Colour Vinyl.
For fans of Neurosis, Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ólafur Arnalds, Nick Cave & Warren Ellis, Brian Eno.

“Von Till has delved into prolonged and hypnotic expressions of darkness and decay...achingly slow post-classical hues (glissandro strings, mournful horns, reverb piano) fusing intimacy to grandeur. But the most stentorian, weariest voice imaginable - graver even than Mark Lanegan - and the existential dread of his words equally chills to the bones.” 4/5 MOJO (No Wilderness Deep Enough)
Steve Von Till has made a life’s work out of seeking the elemental. With a solo discography that stretches back more than two decades, he has toiled in a shadow realm, peeling back layers of reality in a never-ending search for true meaning and raw emotion. A Deep Voiceless Wilderness strips back the veil even further. An achingly beautiful ambient work with neo-classical leanings, the album is a hallucinatory and elegant rumination on our disconnect from the natural world, each other, and ultimately ourselves.
For some listeners, the album may recall the work of modern composers like Jóhann Jóhannsson, Brian Eno or Gavin Bryars. For Von Till, it’s about surrendering to the spirit of place—and to the original intent behind his 2020 solo album, No Wilderness Deep Enough. That album marked a significant first for Von Till: It was his first solo record without a guitar in hand. Instead, Von Till intoned powerful and thought-provoking lyrics over piano, cello, mellotron and analog synthesizers. A Deep Voiceless Wilderness is that same album without Von Till’s words.
“This is how I originally heard this piece of music,” he says. “Without the voice as an anchor or earthbound narrative, these pieces have a broader wingspan. They become something else entirely and unfold in a more expansive way. The depth of the synths, juxtaposed with the strings and French horn, have space to develop and allow the listener to imagine their own story.”

Ulna’s OEA is a “bar-rock getting sober record.“ The first full length solo record of Ulna, aka Adam Schubert of Cafe Racer, OEA is an ode to reinvention. Along with the release comes a rebranding--formerly Ruins, Schubert’s new pseudonym ULNA is a reference to a pivotal moment in his childhood. At the age of 14, Schubert shattered the bone on the inside of his forearm in a skating accident, and took up the guitar. “That’s what made me serious about playing music,” says Schubert.

This name change also accompanied Schubert’s shift towards sobriety--OEA was created right as Schubert reconfigured his life without drugs or alcohol. With the exception of the final track, “Dead Friends,” the whole album was written while in a recovery program. “You have to reinvent your whole personality, you have to be a different person,” says Schubert.”Who am I if I’m not the crazy drunk dude who’s doing drugs in the bathroom?”

OEA is an intensely personal record, in subject matter but also quite literally--Schubert plays every instrument, though the record feels far from a home-demo, recorded and mastered by Robby Hanes at Strange Magic Recording in Chicago’s Logan Square. Schubert’s songs are ambling and full of picked guitar and retro harmonies, a stylistic sensibility he attributes to a love for the Beatles and “acoustic rock with a weird punk edge,” a-la Big Thief and Kurt Vile. Though instrumentally sunny, his vocals hint at something else - there’s an underlying ache. OEA is an easy listen, but with a depth of emotion that demands listeners’ attention.

OEA explores the range of emotions experienced in the transition to sobriety, from fear to backslide to self doubt. At first listen, “Turn The Record On” feels almost like a love song, with a chorus of “turn the record on/ you’re my favorite song,” but in actuality the song is the story of an empty encounter rather than romance. “It’s kind of about this sad hookup with someone else who is equal in your addiction, you’re just using each other because you don’t want to be alone in your using,” says Schubert. “We both have this problem and we can have fun in it together because we both understand. They know the score.”

While “Turn The Record On” speaks to a moment of shared addiction, other tracks examine what comes after sobriety. “And I took the pill like I should / and I stayed clean just like I said I would,” begins “Last Song,” which Schubert cites as one of the hardest tracks to write. “I got sober and I take medication and - I’m doing all this stuff now but nothing’s changed,” says Schubert. “ I think that’s pretty common in people who get sober. I did all this stuff and now what?”

The penultimate track on the album, “Last Song” fades into a noisy interlude that gives listeners the feeling of motion, like entering a tunnel and emerging into a quieter, lo-fi recording, the closing track “Dead Friends.” The only non-studio track, “Dead Friends” was recorded in Schubert’s home, and carries with it a warm intimacy. “I wanted it to sound like you’re outside somewhere, you're walking, and you step inside somewhere that feels safe,” says Schubert.

This closing track embodies the mood of OEA- warm but with a melancholy edge, like coming in from the cold but still feeling a lingering chill. It’s an album that feels comfortable and cohesive--though individual tracks stand alone, OEA works best when listened through start to finish. It’s a record to put on while cooking dinner and let sink in.

It’s a given that timing is everything in music – most obviously in terms of composition and production but often just as much in regard to conception and release – the latter two doubly poignantly so in the case of this massive DOOM vs The Sugarcubes mash-up LP from turntablist and producer Krash Slaughta.

Which is why the tale of this project’s gestation is perhaps what should be told about it before anything else.

Begun last August and finished on 25 October, the album started life as an idea born from a casual listen to final Sugarcubes album Stick Around For Joy that Krash had bought a copy of years before in a charity shop. Contemplating the cover art while listening to the LP and the track Hit in particular, it came to him that here might be the musical basis for a concept LP in the grand tradition of the hip-hop mash-up album. Thus the project was born, becoming something of an obsession as lockdown restrictions recommenced through a sanity-testing autumn. As it developed, the provisional title of Stick Around For DOOM morphed into Sugar Coated DOOM and Brighton artists Leigh Pearce and Rob Crespo were roped in to create the artwork. So pleased was Krash with the results that he decided to self-finance the pressing of the LP to vinyl which in turn would allow him to send a copy to DOOM in the most fitting format. On that basis, along with his dad’s advice that if you want something done properly; do it yourself’, he initiated the process for a limited press run as soon as the project wrapped and telephoned his dad (who’d been shielding and who he hadn’t seen for months) to say he’d done precisely that. In a tragic twist, this turned out to be their last ever conversation, for Krash’s dad died suddenly the next day. Two months later of course, while waiting for the Covid-slowed vinyl pressing process to complete, came a further tragic twist as the world received the delayed news that DOOM himself had also passed away back in October – in the event, only five days after Krash’s father. So it’s no understatement to say that Sugar Coated DOOM carries significant emotional resonance for its maker, forever linked as it will be to the deaths of two of his personal heroes.

Which brings us to the content. The album contains seven vocal tracks, with an alternate version of one and instrumental versions of five of the seven across two sides of an album with the music, track names, LP title and cover art mashing up musical, lyrical/ textual and visual elements of The Sugar Cubes’ Stick Around For Joy with DOOM acapellas, track names and references. Listeners won’t need long to appreciate that Krash Slaughta was right to be proud of his creation, almost certainly correct in thinking DOOM would dig it and no doubt The Sugarcubes too. Also, who would have thought The Sugarcubes had so much potential for beat-mining? But then seeing potential in the unexpected was always a vital skill from the golden era of sampling in hip-hop and those who follow in the tradition. The first track proper, for example, swipes Madlib’s lo-fi beat from underneath the vocals for Figaro and replaces it with the looped and beefed-up opening bars of the Cubes’ I’m Hungry. The result is a natural fit. But then the blending of elements in every track on this release provides evidence of the effort and love put into its creation, reinvigorating DOOM’s classic vocals while re-purposing The Sugarcubes in a manner that will delight. Indeed, if you’d didn’t know the work of Bjork’s former band, you’d be unlikely to pin an early 90s alt-rock LP as the sample source. I imagine listeners will have a hard time picking a favourite too. Perhaps Hit It (based on the track which triggered the project idea in the first) which splices the Bond-theme-ish Hit with My Favourite Ladies might prove the most popular, or the monkey’s favourite, Nurse Chong, which blends Happy Nurse with Raedawn (named for Tommy Chong’s daughter) from Viktor Vaughn LP Vaudeville Villain. Whichever one punters pick though, anyone who hears anything off this will know it’s one to rank alongside your other favourite hip-hop mash-up albums. And who knows – perhaps even Mr Daniel Dumile himself might have considered it a not unfitting epitaph.

‘Voyager’, the seventh album from Current Joys, rattles with the
live-wire feeling that’s thrummed through all of Rattigan’s previous
releases: quavering, scream-itself-hoarse vocals and selfinterrogation via song. But here, that bristling, sentimental rock ‘n’
roll cacophony is overlaid with a soundtrack orchestra guiding it
along. It’s an odyssey, a grand-sounding journey of self-discovery
spread across sixteen tracks.
Part ekphrasis, part personal, it’s Rattigan learning new ways to
understand his own feelings and identity while inspired by the
highly-stylized, striking storytelling of filmmakers like Alfred
Hitchcock, Terrence Malick, Agnès Varda and Andrei Tarkovsky.
‘Voyager’ is unlike anything Current Joys has released before.
On his new album, Rattigan eschews lo-fi home recordings for a
full band and recording sessions at Stinson Beach Studios. As a
vocalist/drummer in his other band Surf Curse, Rattigan had finally
opened up to the possibility of working in a professional studio.
It’s all held together by the fervour of Rattigan’s creative process.
He believes in the premonitory power of music and he latches onto
the song ideas that strike him in the moment, propelled by an
abstract existentialism or burst of feeling more than anything else.
It imbues ‘Voyager’ with an intensity and intimacy - with the sense
that you’re getting to hear, all at once, the disparate parts that
make a project - or person - into a sprawling, cinematic whole.
Similar to Tame Impala or Mac Demarco in their early days,
Current Joys is singular and with a fanbase that extends far
outside of traditional indie fans. The band managed to establish an
indie and mainstream audience while flying under the radar of
DSPs and nearly all other industry levers. They are one of the first
indie bands to have their place fully created and cemented by
TikTok.
Double LP packaged in a gatefold sleeve

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

“My vision was big,” says Brighton-based singer Macve of the road to her second album. “I knew I wanted to do something more expansive than my first record.” With reach, feeling, storytelling power and a stop-you-dead voice, Macve sizes up to that mission boldly on Not The Girl. Following on from the rootsy saloon-noir conviction of her 2017 debut, Golden Eagle, Holly sets out for

deeper, often darker territory with a firm, unhurried sense of direction on her second record: on all fronts, it’s an album that looks its upscaled ambitions in the eye fearlessly.

For Macve, the combination of influences such as Nancy & Lee with time spent touring helped widen her horizons. “I wasn’t afraid of trying new things, and I wanted to explore sounds and develop my skills in production, composing and engineering. When I wrote the songs on Golden Eagle I had never toured, it was just me in my bedroom playing acoustic guitar. I then got the chance to tour the world with a band and sing with a symphony orchestra with Mercury Rev in 2017. My little world grew and I realised there was so much for me to learn about how I can use my skills as a singer and writer. I didn’t want to limit myself – I wanted to push my boundaries.”

At every turn, Macve’s powers of evocation are matched by the depth and strength in her voice. Witness the meeting of a plangent pedal-steel with her elastic vocal on the atmospheric “Be My Friend”, or the sultry verses and soaring chorus of “You Can Do Better”, which bring to mind a prairie-sized Mazzy Star. Guest guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones’ spacious contributions help enhance its sense of space. “Bill was an important part of the story of this record,” says Holly. “I love his playing – it helped create that kind of heavy, lazy, dreamy sound I’m such a fan of.”

Elsewhere, rich seams of contrast and counterpoint emerge. The Velvet Underground-ish “Sweet Marie” is epic drone-country, “Little, Lonely Heart” a symphonic waltz around the rootsy stuff of bad love, jealousy, and guilt. “Who Am I” merges a Phil Spector-ish wall of sound with a grunge-y melodic insouciance, while “Daddy’s Gone” finds Macve reflecting on the death of her father over Memphis soul-style backing, rendering complex emotions with controlled reserves of detail and drama before a roistering climax.

As if the ever evolving style and sprawling narratives of Creeper didn’t already keep him busy enough, Will Gould reacted to last year’s initial lockdown by delving into the archives to complete the debut EP from his side project SALEM. Working alongside his friend and collaborator Matt Reynolds, SALEM quickly sold-out the first vinyl pressing of their self-titled debut EP while also earning fresh acclaim and streaming an In The K! Pit show for Kerrang!.

Now the second chapter in the SALEM story emerges from the underworld with the news that they’ll release their new EP ‘SALEM II’ on May 7TH and now share the first taste of the EP in the shape of the new single ‘DRACULADS’.

‘DRACULADS’ opens with the kind of larger-than-life b-movie horror love letter that can only come from Gould’s poison pen: “Maybe the blood of Jesus Christ is laced upon your lips / I get a little closer to God and too drunk each time we kiss.” It sets the tone for a blitzkrieg rush of melodic punk and raucous rock ‘n’ roll that only stops for breath for the song’s cabaret croon breakdown.

Elsewhere, the EP builds upon the style that SALEM established with their debut. From the tongue-in-cheek reference to The Smiths on the opening track ‘William, It Was Really Something’ to the closing ‘Heaven Help Me’, SALEM play it fast, frenetic and fun. As with the best old school punk EPs, ‘SALEM II’ is an escapist rush of attention that commands your attention for 15 minutes before it’s time to drop the needle back to the start.

Straight Outta Caledonia is the first commercially available “Greatest Hits” of the outsider songwriter Jackie Leven, an artist
who has largely remained in obscurity in his native Scotland despite being one of the greatest wordsmiths – and singers – it ever
produced. A well-travelled musician who began making psychedelic, progressive music in the late 60s before emerging as an
epic storyteller full of pathos, humour and humanity in the 90s, Leven lived and wrote like many of the fragile, gregarious
characters of his songs; large, full of life and empathy. Leven passed away in 2011 after recording 30+ albums under different
guises or with his briefly successful New Wave band Doll by Doll. Straight Outta Caledonia is a compilation collated by Night
School Records on its Archival label School Daze that seeks to introduce Leven’s music to new generations.
In an age of isolation, alienation and loss of visceral experience, Jackie Leven’s music can be massive and welcoming. It feels
connected to some universal humanity and vibrates with vitality. His songs are often full of tragedy and comedy simultaneously,
cutting straight to the heart, often plugging directly into the nervous system of the listener. His lyrics are rich, dense with imagery
that can veer from apocalyptic to the comically banal in a sentence, with a songwriting panache that can be heavy handed to
almost bursting point before skewering the song with a clownish, warm punchline. His productions ranged from Bob Dylan’s
Rolling Thunder Revue style rock band orchestrations with strings and organ as on the epic Ancient Misty Morning or they could
be pared down to the purest form of folk song as on Poortoun: Leven on stage alone with an acoustic guitar, albeit played with a
mastery of the instrument that he often only hinted at. Musically his sound can bend traditional structures or stay completely
confined within them yet still forever push towards an ecstatic release, as on the cinematic Snow In Central Park.
The most exciting, jaw-droppingly effective tool at Leven’s disposal was his voice. A multi-octave instrument that, though
damaged during a savage assault in Fife, he used with flair; he had both a brazen disregard for the rules and a deep humility, all
of which is evidenced with every phrasing. A baritone that could flit up through the register – always touched by his gentle
Kirkcaldy accent – it’s the prime delivery method for his songs. Leven’s voice enabled him to inhabit the characters in his songs to
an uncanny degree, a skill that in turn enables the listener to empathise with them and, subsequently, the singer. It’s most evident
in stand out song The Sexual Loneliness Of Jesus Christ, a breathtaking re-telling of the life of its protagonist, not as a pure,
sinless messiah but as a sexually frustrated, solitary man condemned to an existential loneliness no one else will ever feel. In
many ways the track is the archetypal Jackie Leven song. Produced by Pere Ubu’s David Thomas, what strikes the ear first –
after the samples of unemployed workers in Glasgow following the closing of the Clyde shipyards – is the audacious, rhythmic
tremolo effect Leven employs through the verses before the production opens up to allow Leven’s vocal to lift into a soar, a
freeing glide powered both by the force of the singer’s chutzpah and the inherent, doomed destiny of the protagonist. With any
other singer such subject matter could come across as gauche or worse, pretentiously sonorous, but Jackie Leven’s genius was
such that he could be this cinematic and brazen while touching something elemental and true in the beholder. It’s a skill evident in
every song on Straight Outta Caledonia, the trademark of a songwriter who revelled and excelled in intensity with a lightness of
touch.
In his lifetime, Jackie Leven toured, wrote and recorded at a ferocious rate. He recorded under aliases to avoid record contract
restrictions, played house shows in Europe after or instead of official concerts, events which were often spoken word story telling
masterclasses as well as performances of his often bewilderingly dense songbook. His music has traditionally been catalogued
as “folk” music and has been largely banished to a small, dedicated group of international fans and apostles both private and well
known, like author Ian Rankin or Glenn Matlock. Since his passing in 2011 however, there has been a growing recognition
amongst a newer generation, with artists like James Yorkston or Molly Nilsson publicly stating the influence of the unsung
troubadour on their own craft. Jackie Leven’s fairytales for hard men are often forensic deconstructions of masculinity, sad and
ecstatic, light and shadow, always endlessly rich, a resource as bountiful as Leven himself’s human spirit undoubtedly was.

Clear Vinyl

Post-minimalist American composer Rafael Anton Irisarri makes his Umor Rex debut with his new album, The Shameless Years. Inspired by a troubled socio-political climate, buried melodies punch their way through a bleak cover of noisy drones, periodically veering into some of Irisarri's most eerily pertinent music to date.

One of Rafael Anton Irisarri's most thematically and sonically cohesive records to date The Shameless Years came together in a relatively short burst of creativity starting at the end of 2016. Rediscovering some relatively older tools - namely Native Instruments' Reaktor, Absynth, and Kontakt software - Irisarri combined them with his collection of guitars, pedals, amps, and analogue processing gear, turning his Black Knoll Studio north of NYC into a powerful writing tool. Completed quickly by Irisarri's standards, let alone during a period of social upheaval in American society, the record faces down several key personal themes. The title, suggests Irisarri, could in fact be seen as a reflection of the era of shamelessness we're currently living in, a time of fake news and alternative facts.

Two tracks were completely remotely between Irisarri in New York and Umor Rex veteran Siavash Amini from his home in Tehran, Iran. This music came together at the peak of all the anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant rhetoric happening in the USA, not to mention the banning of Iranians from entering the country, explains Irisarri. The diptych with Amini, 'Karma Krama' and 'The Faithless', seems bathed in additional waves of sorrow and dread. The wash of symphonic stormclouds of synth drones and processed notes on the latter gradually appears and disappears over the course of thirteen mournful minutes.

'Rh Negative' marches gigantic guitars through towering valleys of scarred ambient noise dealing with Irisarri's own heritage, many of his ancestors having come to America to escape poverty and oppression. The refusal of modern America to extend similar sanctuary to refugees escaping turmoil weighs heavily on the composer. Elsewhere an emotional onslaught of notes buried in mounds of greyscale noise on 'Sky Burial' aims to deal with Irisarri's very own mortality - something he was recently confronted with following health scares, an accident, and a near-death experience in 2016. Pushing 40 as this album was being made, the composer is constantly aware that he's already outlived his own father, who died at the age of 32. Facing down both intolerance and the void, the epic soundscapes of The Shameless Years are a vast cry of emotion from Irisarri. The clock is ticking - gotta make the most out of it while you still can.

All songs written and performed by Rafael Anton Irisarri, except #5 & #6 written and performed with Siavash Amini. Design by Daniel Castrejón, photos by Camilo Christen. Mastered by James Plotkin.

Tomahawk, the rock band featuring Duane Denison
(The Jesus Lizard / Unsemble), Trevor Dunn (Mr.
Bungle / Fantômas), Mike Patton (Faith No More /
Mr. Bungle, etc.) and John Stanier (Helmet /
Battles), return with their first full-length album in
eight years, the highly anticipated ‘Tonic Immobility’.
“‘Tonic Immobility’ could just be something in the air
we’re feeling,” says Denison. “It’s been a rough year
between the pandemic and everything else. A lot of
people feel somewhat powerless and stuck as
they’re not able to make a move without second
guessing themselves or worrying about the
outcomes. For as much as the record possibly
reflects that, it’s also an escape from the realities of
the world. We’re not wallowing in negativity or
getting political. For me, rock has always been an
alternate reality to everything else. I feel like this is
yet another example.”
‘Tonic Immobility’ is the fifth studio album and
Tomahawk are one of the biggest Mike Patton
projects outside of Faith No More and Mr. Bungle
(whose recent album is still charting around the
world)

Scottish producer Gavin Sutherland revives his Other Lands alias with a collection of tracks that were crafted between 1997 and 2012, and were transferred straight from the original cassette.

"What Year Is It? Who Is The President?", is Sutherlands' first full offering with PULP. After multiple remixes for the label (under his Fudge Fingas alias), the release schedule for the Other Lands guise has picked up in the last few months. This resurgence of previously unreleased material will add to Sutherland's elaborate catalog, and confirm that even bits that never saw a release at the time, are sounding relevant and superbly produced.

"What Year Is It? Who Is The President?" (PULP13) starts with "The Caged Bird", which is a synth laden, lush sounding cut that is built around a playful bass sound and beautifully orchestrated chords. The drums are swinging as ever, and the hypnotic character of the lead is present throughout.

"Kaleidoscope" is a venture into the otherworldly. Deep splashes of synth and fx come together effortlessly to create an almost meditative state. The musicality of it all is remarkable, and hard to capture in a few words. The rhythm section is always the backbone, but the fx are equally as important. Fans of Sutherland's work will surely recognize and appreciate the ambiance that is set in Kaleidoscope.

The flipside starts with "It's Something Else". The main lead is indeed something refreshing. In a sense, it's reminiscent of a guitar, but it's clearly not that. The dance floor nature of everything else is supporting the wildness of the lead. Altogether this is something to space out to. On a dance floor, at home or perhaps even during a run.

The final track on the B-side is called "Mind Like A Steel Trap". This sample heavy, hazy sounding piece of beauty is blending soulful flutes, drums and the catchphrase of the song - no more mind games - together with an astonishing ease

The three players in Chicago’s Moontype orbited each other for years before they came in phase. Bodies of Water, their debut album for local label Born Yesterday, documents travel, insecurity, friendship, and the titular element—all of which are representative of the band members’ strong connection to place and to one another. “Being rooted in the landscape became important to me while studying geology, which completely changed how I think about the world,” offers songwriter, vocalist and bassist Margaret McCarthy of the album’s central themes. The arrangements themselves feel like open-hearted negotiations; sparse fingerpicking gives way to saturated tube-screaming as naturally as the changing of tides. Over twelve tracks, Moontype revels in the woozy concoction of its many influences, but always lands on punchy hooks, shifting between arrangements both spacious and mystifying without abandoning their conversational warmth.

Conservatory students at Oberlin College’s prestigious music program, each member focused on exploring different sounds. Guitarist Ben Cruz, who came up on classic rock shredding and migrated into jazz performance, admired the indie pop of Fountains of Wayne, the groundbreaking composition work of pianist Vijay Iyer, and the genre-morphing folk of heavy hitters like Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. He played in several projects alongside Emerson Hunton, who’d drummed from age six and entrenched himself in the Twin Cities improvised music scene before even heading to college. Margaret—who grew up outside of Boston playing piano, singing in choirs and writing on guitar—spent her time creating knotty, riot grrrl-and-hyperpop inspired songs for bass and voice, as well as noise soundtracks for art installations. Inspired by artists like Adrianne Lenker and Gillian Welch, she recorded the EP bass tunes at home in an apartment over the town’s optician, releasing it upon graduation. A week later she migrated even farther west to Chicago, where Ben and Emerson had already enmeshed themselves in several projects, from avant garde ensembles to a country group.

Ben was instantly impressed by Margaret’s songs, at once “challenging and unlike anything I had played before.” The duo decided to try performing together, but knew this special music would be even better fortified with drums. Emerson was the obvious choice—as Ben puts it, “He’s our great friend and also the best drummer we know. Who else do you call?” Moontype-as-trio gigged around town, eventually embarking on a first fall tour in Emerson’s Prius. On that trip, they felt the music morph into something living, and the care and trust between them intensified. They decided to put together songs for a record, recorded at the end of 2019 with Jamdek Recording Studio’s Doug Malone, a dependable collaborator whose patient process perfectly captured the magic of their newfound familiarity. While Margaret’s skeletal demos still informed the bulk of Moontype’s full-band debut (some of which are re-recordings of bass tunes cuts), the resulting arrangements are songs reborn and strengthened by the three musicians’ absorption of one another’s ideas.

On Bodies of Water, Margaret’s soothing, unadorned alto is often peppered by the gliding, eerie harmonies of her bandmates. “We love the act of singing together,” explains Ben, who describes it as “connecting and grounding and wholesome.” The push-pull search for common ground characterizes the instrumentals as well. Round basslines occupy higher octaves, trading space with guitars chugging in lower registers, and all the while drums break apart and glue back together in idiosyncratic grooves that never lose the pocket. Of the complicated rhythms that sometimes result: “Any mathy moments are based on how the lyrics fall naturally, which feels like it frees us up from having to stay in one time signature,” says Emerson. “Rhythmic elements never feel like they’re being added in, more like they’re already there and we just float on through.”

Touring’s restlessness informed these songs, but so did the DIY scene that welcomed Moontype to Chicago—including, according to Margaret, the “wild harmonies” of Ohmme, the “deadpan explanatory rock” of Ratboys, and the “luxe math rock pattern music” of The Knees. Working at beloved venue Sleeping Village inspired Margaret’s observational vignettes; “We are sitting at the desk and you are mixing all the bands,” she reports in the middle of the dextrous folk hammer-ons of “3 Weeks,” gently admitting, “I am trying to have fun and I am trying to get paid” in a world of bikes, trucks, and velvet. “About You,” a robust power-popper written about a post-gig romp around Richmond with artist Bebé Machete, opens with a Phair-ian quip: “Looking at you with my fuck me eyes / Do you wanna get inside of mine?” Meanwhile, the spectre of lost camaraderie looms over “Ferry,” an atmospheric and anthemic standout that questions, “If I’m not your best friend / then who am I to anyone?” Alongside water, this preoccupation with friendship is a focal concern lyrically, but the palpable love between Moontype’s players is essential in communicating that desire for connection, and all three members are dedicated to exploring sound and meaning organically and together. Care and generosity are at the core of Moontype, and Bodies of Water is a clever album full of insightful music, as cosily enveloping as it is incisively honest.

A year characterised by a pandemic, lockdowns, political ineptitude and oh, so much staying the fuck at home is enough to make anyone want to blow off a little steam. One overused piece of glib idiocy at the start of the Trump era was 'at least punk will be good', as though punk can only be good when it flips the bird to right-wing, authritarian shit-headery rather than amplifying anything else. Sure, there've been plenty of great records over the last four years, but sometimes (across the whole of 2020, for instance) the levels of anger, fear and frustration can be overwhelming and you need a little space to goof around. For some of us, though, goofing around is serious business - and here's a record to illustrate that perfectly. Smirk is the solo project of Public Eye's Nick Vicario, and while you'll hear similarities to his main outfit across these 12 excellent tracks (from the off, you can imagine how PE might refine garage-carved nuggets like 'S Construction'), here there's less sang-froid and more_ well, fun. The reference points you might expect are still there (Killed By Death comps and Wire, especially their 80s period, to name a couple), but with added scuzz and something even approaching joy - the whirling synths of 'Eyes Conversing' feel ominous, but they also convey a sense of delirious excitement. And dammit, it's all fucking cool too. With a name like Smirk, your first instinct might well be to wonder whether Vicario is laughing at us. The first line of the album (a defiant 'it's not funny') should tell you that this isn't the case, but the album certainly finds him in playful mood. The tasteful acoustic instrumental 'Lude 2' descends deliberately into farce as it speeds up and slows down like a turntable alternating speeds, or a record warping in real time.

Mascot Records will release the 15th Anniversary limited-edition Glow In The Dark vinyl pressing of Volbeat’s debut album, The Strength / The Sound / The Songs, on March 26th, 2021.

The Strength/The Sound/The Songs was first released by Mascot Records in 2005, launching the band onto the greater European music stage with bone-shaking performances at Roskilde, Download and Pinkpop Festivals. The album, which includes their first single, a cover of Dusty Springfield’s “I Only Wanna Be With You” and fan favorites “Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza” and “Soulweeper,” crashed into the Danish charts and earned the band a slew of Danish Music Awards. The album has gone on to be certified 2 x Platinum in their home country, Gold in Germany and has generated over 180 million streams and (still) counting.
This new limited vinyl variant celebrate both the legacy of the album and the future that will bring countless more performances of these songs to the world stage.

It’s nearly a decade since William Doyle handed a CD-R demo to the Quietus co-founder John Doran at a gig, who loved it so much he set up a label to release Doyle’s debut EP (as East India Youth). Doyle’s debut album, Total Strife Forever, followed in 2014, as did a nomination for the Mercury Music Prize. A year later, he was signed to XL, touring the world and about to release his second album – all by the age of 25.

After self-releasing four ambient and instrumental albums, Doyle’s third full-length record – and the first under his own name – Your Wilderness Revisited arrived to ecstatic reviews in 2019: Line of Best Fit described it as “a dazzlingly beautiful triumph of intention” and Metro declared it an album not only of the year, but “of the century”. Just over a year later, as he turns 30, Doyle is back with Great Spans of Muddy Time.

Born from accident but driven forward by instinct, Great Spans was built from the remnants of a catastrophic hard-drive failure. With his work saved only to cassette tape, Doyle was forced to accept the recordings as they were – a sharp departure from his process on Your Wilderness Revisited, which took four long years to craft toward perfection. “Instead of feeling a loss that I could no longer craft these pieces into flawless ‘Works of Art’, I felt intensely liberated that they had been set free from my ceaseless tinkering,” Doyle says.

“The album this turned out to be – and that I’ve wanted to make for ages – is a kind of Englishman-gone-mad, scrambling around the verdancy of the country’s pastures looking for some sense,” says Doyle. “It has its seeds in Robert Wyatt, early Eno, Robyn Hitchcock, and Syd Barrett.” Doyle credits Bowie’s ever-influential Berlin trilogy, but also highlights a much less expected muse: Monty Don, presenter of the BBC programme Gardener’s World, Doyle’s lockdown addiction.

“I became obsessed with Monty Don. I like his manner and there's something about him I relate to. He once described periods of depression in his life as consisting of ‘nothing but great spans of muddy time’. When I read that quote I knew it would be the title of this record,” Doyle says. “Something about the sludgy mulch of the album’s darker moments, and its feel of perpetual autumnal evening, seemed to fit so well with those words. I would also be lying if I said it didn’t chime with my mental health experiences as well.”

Lead single “And Everything Changed (But I Feel Alright)” is representative of the album as a whole: eclectic and unpredictable, but also playful and properly danceable. On top of the gently pulsing electronics, soothing harmonies and glowing melodies, there’s a ripping guitar solo that ricochets around the song like a pinball. “I wanted to get back into the craft of writing individual songs rather than being concerned with overarching concepts,” Doyle says. Elsewhere there’s the synth pop strut of “Nothing At All”, pulsating static on “Semi-Bionic”, incandescent synths and enveloping soundscapes in “Who Cares”, and the ambient glitch groove of “New Uncertainties”.

Great Spans of Muddy Time is a beautiful ode to the power of accident, instinct and intuition. The result, however, is far from an anomaly: this celebration of the imperfect album is one that required years of honed craft and dedicated focus to achieve, “For the first time in my career, the distance between what I hear and what the listener hears is paper-thin,” Doyle says. “Perhaps therein reveals a deeper truth that the perfectionist brain can often dissolve.”













m 13. [a sea of thoughts behind it]

WRWTFWW Records is beaucoup happy to announce the official reissue of Pierre Barouh's hard-to-describe-but-easy-to-enjoy French flair meets Japanese avant-garde lost treasure of experimental-electronic-chanson-pop with a new-wave-minimal-bossa touch, Le Pollen. Originally recorded July 1982 at Nippon Columbia Studio in Tokyo and composed, arranged, and played by a who's who of Japan's most groundbreaking musicians of the 80s, the album comes as a LP with bonus 7inch, housed in a heavy sleeve displaying two immaculate photos of Barouh and holding a printed lyrics insert.

A free-spirited world traveler with an incredible ear for music, Paris-born singer and activist Pierre Barouh introduced the sounds of Brazil (and more) to Europe and pushed the envelope with his pio-neering label Saravah, home of adventurous innovators Brigitte Fontaine, Areski, Jacques Higelin, Naná Vasconcelos, and Roland Bocquet's Catharsis among many others. His bohemian border-free vision of modern chanson, blending musical tradition from various parts of the globe with forward-looking artistry, resonated particularly well in Japan, where the scene spearheaded by Yellow Magic Orchestra fell in love with everything Barouh.

And so one day in 1981, Pierre Barouh received an invitation from a Japanese label to come record an album in Tokyo. Not one to turn down an escapade around the world, the French visionary jumped on a plane and landed in a studio surrounded with a dream line-up of musicians: Yukihiro Takahashi (who had named his solo debut Saravah! after Barouh's imprint) and Ryuichi Sakamoto of YMO, Yasuaki Shimizu and his Mariah bandmates Masanori Sasaji and Hideo Yamaki, members of the Moonriders, Motohiko Hamase, Mitsuru Sawamura of Interior, Kazuhiko Katoh and the list goes on. Also participating in the making of the album were longtime collaborator Francis Laï and the mys-terious and beautiful David Sylvian.

The result is Le Pollen, a sincere and affectionate mix of nouveau chanson, techno-pop, post-punk, jazz, bossa, ambient, and minimalism. And probably something else entirely. Honestly impossible to classify in a particular genre, Pierre Barouh's fascinating cosmopolitan music melting pot is, above all, a reassuring ode to humanity, where friendship, exchange, and collaborative creativity breeze freely. Making music together. It's all love.

Pierre Barouh sadly passed away in December 2016, leaving behind a monumental legacy of music and art for us to cherish, and a life philosophy that's well worth considering:

La vie, qu'elle soit longue ou brève
Moi, tous mes rêves
Je les prends toujours au sérieux
Quand l'utopie brise les chaînes
C'est l'oxygène,
De ceux qui sont restés curieux

Life, be it long or brief
Me, all my dreams
I always take them seriously
When utopia breaks the chains
It's the oxygen,
Of those who've remained curious

From the song "L'Autre Rive" on Le Pollen.

* repress on sandstone colour vinyl

For 'Music For Dreams’ collector’s series, we aim to bring you something a little different, something a little out there. After eclectic contributions from Jan Schulte, Moonboots and most recently Basso, we’ve lent the slot to Belgian sonic globetrotter DJ soFa. As always, he’s been granted supreme curatorial sovereignty, and trust us, he held us to our word on that one. For elsewhere Jr I, soFa takes us on a trip to the alluring and magical reality of childhood - and a trip, it is.

This double LP features both new and old compositions from a wide range of countries, all centered around the youngest citizens of planet earth. The compilation has been 2.5 years in the making, with soFa collecting obscure pieces from all over the world and inspiring young collaborators to produce new tracks mostly by means of analogue synthesizers and vintage drum machines. The result is a thematically and sonically homogenous collage of cosmic children’s music.

'soFa' starts us off with Milo Kolarov’s exercise in sonic imagery ‘Analogue Beam’, a story about animal characters, presented to us as distinct motifs of bleeps and blitzes. Next up is the surreal jigsaw puzzle dub ‘Totti und Pippo’ by Jah Limonardi and 'Die Kleine Gräfin Dubski'.

Here, we come bouncing on giant, iridescent mushrooms, lulled deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole by incantations of a child’s voice. Throughout, the record is full of these synaesthetic properties, immersing the listener in creative ways, nudging you down hidden experiential pathways.
All of the tracks, more precisely ... they were pleasantly engaging, often blooming with charming grooves and provided with a whimsical melody.

As Dense & Pika, Alex Jones and Chris Spero have garnered an enviable reputation for making devastating club ordnance that finds the sweet spot between dark, mysterious house and roaring, brawny techno. With over a decade of material under their belt, Jones and Spero are set to release their first studio length debut album, ‘Colour Burn’ via London major imprint BMG on 4th December, home to the likes of Leftfield, The Prodigy, Holy Ghost and Faithless.

‘Colour Burn’ is a 13-track composition crossing through downtempo house and electronica, built as a conceptual sonic representation of the pair’s live audio and visual set up. The album is a step away from harder and faster material and a move towards a more leftfield sonic trajectory, featuring a handful of impressive heavyweight features of Jones & Spero’s musical heroes who have informed the Dense & Pika output.

Released today, album moment ‘Honey’ features the master of sensual, slow-burn techno, Matthew Dear whose contribution to ‘Honey’ arrives in vocal form – a breathy, brooding ensemble of spoken word that glues perfectly with the duo’s trademark rough and textured sound palette. It helps turn what Alex calls “a headsy, dusty piece of housey tech” into something sensual and otherworldly.

Dark and smouldering, it seems to the suck the air out of the room like a tightly packed subterranean dancefloor deep in the throes of night. Glitched out percussion and fizzling hi-hats feel caustic against the track’s low-end frequencies. The thumping bassline and kick drum combination delivers punch and pressure to the mix in a true Dense & Pika format. Matthew’s sauntering vocal contribution guides the track into a deep and hypnotic groove well equipped for any late-night excursion. “The boys sent over a lengthy jam, but there was that simple loop that stood out and had me hooked. I put it on repeat and let the mind and pen wander. It’s a bit of cosmic abandonment, brazenly sung by a professional of the night.” Matthew Dear

Elsewhere on the LP, standout track ‘Hidden’ features the drums of Sepultura’s legendary metal icon Igor Cavalera resulting in a fabulous frenzy of percussion and driving rhythm. The equally momentous and unforgettable ‘Control’ features the heavily robotic vocoder of Leftfield’s Neil Barnes aiding and abetting in its quest to be a high-octane, twisted rave jam.

The impressive features on ‘Colour Burn’ are an insight into the hugely artistic and visionary A&R skills of Alex and Chris and the start of a new chapter for Dense & Pika kicking off with the long-awaited release of their first studio length album.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

For a band that resists repeating itself, picking up lessons from a decade prior is the strange route Cloud Nothings took to create their most fully-realized album. Their new record, The Shadow I Remember, marks eleven years of touring, a return to early songwriting practices, and revisiting the studio where they first recorded together.

In a way not previously captured, this album expertly combines the group’s pummeling, aggressive approach with singer-songwriter Dylan Baldi’s extraordinary talent for perfect pop. To document this newly realized maturity, the group returned to producer Steve Albini and his Electrical Audio studios in Chicago, where the band famously destroyed its initial reputation as a bedroom solo project with the release of 2012 album Attack on Memory.

Another throwback was Baldi’s return to constant songwriting à la the early solo days, which led to the nearly 30 demos that became the 11 songs on The Shadow I Remember. Instead of sticking to a tried-but-true formula, his songwriting stretched out while digging deeper into his melodic talents. “I felt like I was locked in a character,” Baldi says of becoming a reliable supplier of heavy, hook-filled rock songs. “I felt like I was playing a role and not myself. I really didn’t like that role.” More frequent writing led to the freedom in form heard on The Shadow I Remember. What he can’t do alone is get loud and play noisily, which is exactly what happened when the entire band— bassist TJ Duke, guitarist Chris Brown, and drummer Jayson Gerycz—convened.

The band had more fun in the studio than they’ve had in years, playing in their signature, pulverizing way, while also trying new things. The absurdly catchy “Nothing Without You” includes a first for the band: Macie Stewart of Ohmme contributes guest vocals. Elsewhere, celebrated electronic composer Brett Naucke adds subtle synthesizer parts.

The songs are kept trim, mostly around the three-minute mark, while being gleefully overstuffed. Almost every musical part turns into at least two parts, with guitar and drums opening up and the bass switching gears. “That’s the goal—I want the three-minute song to be an epic,” Baldi says. “That’s the short version of the long-ass jam.”

Lyrically, Baldi delivers an aching exploration of tortured existence, punishing self-doubt, and the familiar pangs of oppressive mystery. “Am I something?” Baldi screams on the song of the same name. “Does anybody living out there really need me?” It’s a heartbreaking admission of existential confusion, delivered hoarsely, with an instantly relatable melody.

“Is this the end/ of the life I've known?” he asks on lead single and album opener “Oslo.” “Am I older now/ or am I just another age?” Despite the questioning lyrics, the band plays with more assurance and joy than ever before. The Shadow I Remember announces Cloud Nothings’ second decade and it sounds like a new beginning.

From the very start of "Drawing Dead" through the memorable lead line in the slower-paced closer "Big Sky Theory," Dozer assembled a work of impeccable songwriting and deep-rooted character. In the arc of their career, every record was another step forward, and just as 2001's Madre de Dios built on the debut and 2003's Call it Conspiracy built on that, so too did Through the Eyes of Heathens pick up from where its predecessor left off. Its sound was still rooted in a heavy rock feel, but Dozer were able to translate that into something more aggressive when they wanted - their sound had bite as well as lumber, and while a cut like "Born a Legend" could be traced back to their desert-minded beginnings in its basic structure, by the time it was finally executed, it was something else entirely. The Obelisk

From the very start of "Drawing Dead" through the memorable lead line in the slower-paced closer "Big Sky Theory," Dozer assembled a work of impeccable songwriting and deep-rooted character. In the arc of their career, every record was another step forward, and just as 2001's Madre de Dios built on the debut and 2003's Call it Conspiracy built on that, so too did Through the Eyes of Heathens pick up from where its predecessor left off. Its sound was still rooted in a heavy rock feel, but Dozer were able to translate that into something more aggressive when they wanted - their sound had bite as well as lumber, and while a cut like "Born a Legend" could be traced back to their desert-minded beginnings in its basic structure, by the time it was finally executed, it was something else entirely. The Obelisk

Children Of Tomorrow will celebrate soon its 10 years anniversary. The label was created by Emmanuel Ternois back in the day and being joined by Arnaud Le Texier in 2011. Since then they focused on Techno producing amazing artists, to name few: Terrence Dixon, Zadig, Tensal, Antigone, Oscar Mulero, Jonas Kopp, Samuli Kemppi etc... Children Of Tomorrow is now presenting the first album from Arnaud Le Texier. After almost 30 years Dj-ing around the world and almost 20 years producing. Signing many releases over the years and always busy delivering dance floor releases, it's been a long wait to finally get an album from ArnaudOn his first album we can feel that he wanted to tell a story and to express something deeper with his production experience. There is a different variety of Techno that stretches from ambient / broken beat / hypnotic / raw Techno along with subtles grooves, wondrous atmospheres & sonic textures. On A side the album opens with Dusk, an ambient atmospheric mid-tempo track with sonic sounds that is a perfect intro.Pattern 2 starts with drones and blip sounds and a broken beat groove follows with a pad that sounds like a voice coming from the space. The track ends with some modular click sounds that make the whole track clever. Followed by the album title Granular Therapy, a deep techno track with modular bass line and melancholic pad. A perfect track to play in after or to warm up a party.The B Side is more dedicated to the dance floor with Black Nympheas that is a proper dark modern techno with a grinding bass line and magic drones. A simple beat makes the track evolve in a nice way. Blade Pass frequency is 4/4 effective Techno with a 909 kick, a syncope acid bass line and a pad that sends you to another dimension. It is a powerful track but with a sense of deepness and sensibility that Arnaud can achieve sometimes. This side closes with Binary Sun Dawn which is an ambient track with melody that has a jazz feeling mixed with dark atmospheres, sonic drones and water drops. The C side opens with Mono Driver, a minimal track with a little synth that stays until the end repetitively until it makes you travel and lose your mind. Deep and dance floor at the same time.

Then Snapper is a more percussive track with some shinning bells and a grinding modular bass line.

The last track Virgo Consortium is a cosmic broken beat with dark atmospheric drone, simple bass and phasing efx. The D Side starts with Midi overdub which is a beauty. A mix between ambient and broken beat. The pad has the deepness that transports you somewhere else with an angel choir on top. The beat is spacial and groovy at the same time with smart high hats. This reminds Arnaud's past ambient production but with a modern approach. Surely a special track of the album.

Hideous Engine is more dance floor with metallic bass line and 4'4 beat going towards a sonic pad that closes the track.The last track Dawn is ambient with drones and blip sounds and an acid bass line modulate. A perfect end of the album.This album is an accomplished journey that makes you dance and travel from dusk till dawn. Arnaud Le Texier shows a coherent vision and illustrates his vast diversity in the techno world. Hopefully we won't have to wait 20 years to get another one.

Slinky and sassy, offbeat and sexy, “My Baby Just Cares For Me”, the new single by Lou Hayter, sneaks in on a cloud of off-kilter synths and airy vocals, just in time for the last few rays of this year’s Indian summer.

Already renowned as a DJ, musician in New Young Pony Club, writer and producer, London based Hayter now harnesses the full extent of her idiosyncratic pop prowess on her hotly anticipated forthcoming debut LP on Skint Records, from which “My Baby Just Cares For Me” is the first, tantalisting taste.

A glorious retro-futurist mélange of 80s Rn’B circa Jam and Lewis and starkly modern underground electronica, “My Baby Just Cares For Me” sounds quite unlike anything else out there, a delicious slice of sparkling electro-soul with a heaped teaspoon of astringent Gallic froideur, whose sweet exterior hides something darker, more melancholic within.

Influenced by a life split between Lima, London, and Twentynine Palms, Peru-born M. Caye Castagnetto’s Leap Second is an intriguingly personal and hard to classify debut album. The album is a thick collage of samples Caye recorded with different artists and musicians, including Beatrice Dillon and the late Aileen Bryant, that spans five years in the making. There is something in Leap Second that tracks the speed of bodies, how they approach and retreat. The ten tracks are speedy and languid, thick ruffles, and dirges. In parts it feels like one’s stumbled upon a forgotten incredible ’70s folk record but that feeling gets broken quickly by clever sleights of hand. Caye’s balladry is angular, time is elastic. Each song is a fresh cape. How dandies really mean it, so masc- that it’s fay, how the only moment is this one and it’s just passed, etcetera.“While it doesn’t really sound like anything else, there are moments that feel like a Latin-flavored Nico, that’s edging its way towards some of the outings of the Sun City Girls. In my opinion it checks all the boxes, by checking none of them.” —Bjorn Copeland, Black Dice “A truly interesting conglomeration of loose inspirations and conjurings. A hard to decipher sound all together which makes it worth every moment...a sprinkling of Catherine Ribeiro, Dr. John, Terje Rypdal and Nico. Far-out sun-soaked odysseys and moon-dappled woodland night creepers...” —John Dwyer

Malian music is arguably deeper, more sophisticated and lyrical than any other form of African music. Those of us deeply entranced by Malian culture, and, in particular, the immense hypnotic beauty of Malian music, have put together a selection of songs from across the country.

Compiled by Vik Sohonie & Dave 'Mr Bongo’ Buttle, the story of this release began in 2015 when Dave happened upon the Soul Bonanza blog. A treasure chest of rare finds from around the world! One mix in particular stood out and totally enthralled Dave - le monde à change: a tribute to mali 1970 - 1991. He already knew of Malian legends such as the Rail Band, Salif Keita, & Les Ambassadeurs du Motel de Bamako, but this mix was something else! Deep & culled from the collections of some of the heaviest African music collectors in the world; legends like Vik Sohonie, Hidehito Morimoto, Philippe Noel, Gregoire Villanova, and Rickard Masip. Dave immediately contacted Vik and a journey of discovery tracking down the rights-holders began. He also turned to the font of Malian music knowledge; Florent Mazzoleni. Florent has written the definitive book about Malian music – 'Musiques modernes et traditionnelles du Mali’. He proposed some incredible tracks to include and provided the back bone of the sleeve notes and photos that are used in the album. No Malian album would be complete without a striking front cover photo, and ours is sourced from the late great Malian photographer Malick Sidibé.

On this album you will find well-known artists sitting next to rarer discoveries. The Rail Band, who are one of the best known of all the big bands in Mali, gave us the stars Mory Kanté and Salif Keita. Les Amabassedeurs du Motel de Bamako were another big act that had Idrissa Soumaoro, Kanté Manfila, and for a while Salif Keita in their ranks. Sometimes Salif would play in both bands in one night, quite a feat considering the bands were fierce rivals. As an albino Salif has had to face considerable prejudice from society, focusing on his musical career to help overcome this.

A major discovery on the album has been Idrissa Soumaoro et L'Eclipse de L’Ija. L'Eclipse de l'Institut des Jeunes Aveugles was a Blind teenagers institute and their record was produced by the German association that took care of blind Malian teenagers in Bamako. It was never properly released commercially and was the first recordings by the legends of Malian music Idrissa Soumaoro, Amadou Bagayoko and Mariam Doumbia. Amadou & Mariam later got married and became household stars, including making an album with Manu Chao.

This album is a concerted global effort to showcase the most vital cornerstone of Malian culture in an attempt to preserve its reputation in the face of its current, grim reality. We hope our highlights of Mali's rich history of musical innovation will serve as a starting point for reclaiming an image tainted by unnecessary conflict. May peace and music return to Mali soon.

An exploratory record that dances across time and genre, guided by fidgety miniatures and jazz inflected collage. Throughout, the band pool together their instrumental chops, moving from fluid and serpentine R&B to meditative, minimalistic piano, evoking a contrast of virtuosity and self-surrender.

While constructed from the inspiration of soul, funk and film music, BÉE mediate those influences having first digested them through the productions of Madlib & the RZA.
A sticker on the sleeve tells us Self Help “combines jazz-funk and mysticism,” a signpost to where its musical and spiritual concerns align. The jazz-funk component translates to arresting hooks in sideways song forms: echoes of Gainsbourg spooled through Azymuth-style Brazilian jazz and punctuated by the whip and snap of Steely Dan. “The Sound Where My Head Was,” the instrumental centrepiece, exemplifies present-wave jazz but also ancient sounds, giving off the mothballed air of a Hiroshi Yoshimura record in a library-music archive.

Self Help’s mysticism emerges in broad and specific ways, denoting not only a search beyond cliché and intellect but also an inquiry into the beat, the spirit, the one will. This isn’t new territory for them: Turnbull—the artist formerly known as Slim Twig, who writes and performs with U.S. Girls and various other Toronto concerns—named the group’s Nature, Man & Woman EP after the Alan Watts book. Building these songs from his drafts over three weekends at Toronto’s Palace Sound studio, the ensemble was free to tap out of the city and into some other place, taking up residence in a collective mind maze. The album produces, in equal measure, familiar surprises and the surprisingly familiar. Intoxicated jazz riffs swerve left at phantom intersections. Rhythms cut loose and tie you in knots. But wired in to each song is a sense of gentle accumulation, making every featherlight flourish weigh a ton. U.S. Girls’ Meg Remy brings serenity to “Sing a Silent Gospel,” and wears its antic melodies lightly. The soul shimmer of “Unity (It’s Up to You)” lets the players pool their R&B chops into something fluid and serpentine while, on guest vocals, the musical performance artist James Baley issues urgent declaratives: “Water must pool, as a rule, before tasted/Or else the water is wasted.” The words throughout the record complement the ensemble music while riffing on the precarious nature of unity itself. Then, closer “Extinct Commune” finds Turnbull deserted at the piano, playing phrases of meditative minimalism taking after the composer Joanna Brouk.

For all the record’s reach, it is these contrasting quiet moments that bring Self Help’s communal spirit into focus. A note on personnel: Badge Époque Ensemble now has a seventh member in Karen Ng, the saxophonist and sometime collaborator of Do Make Say Think, Feist, and others. In BÉE, Ng joins Chris Bezant and Giosuè Rosati, her bandmates in the Andy Shauf live band, as well as U.S. Girls co-conspirators Turnbull and Ed Squires, and other Torontonian cross-pollinators listed below. Guest vocalists across Self Help include Meg Remy, who sings with Dorothea Paas on the opener, James Baley, and Toronto singer-songwriter Jennifer Castle on the remarkable “Just Space for Light.” Words by: Jazz Monroe

THERION have always been a band that have challenged themselves to explore new paths, while remaining true to their musical core values. For their 17th studio album, mastermind Christofer Johnsson and his collaborator Thomas Vikström have created something that has been previously unthinkable to the guitarist and the singer. "We have done the only thing that was left of all the different angles to explore", explains Christofer. "We have decided to give the people what they kept asking for. 'Leviathan' is the first album that we have deliberately packed with THERION hit songs."

True to the Swede's words, the album opens with the catchy and swift tune 'The Leaf Of The Oak Of Far' featuring female and male antiphonal singing as well as a choir that seems to have evolved straight out of THERION's breakthrough full-length "Theli" (1996). This is immediately followed by the obvious highlight 'Tuonela', in which Christofer cleverly underscores this hit-track's Finnish vibe by employing NIGHTWISH’s "metal voice" Marko Hietala. Next up in this parade of future fan-favourites is the title track 'Leviathan' that offers classic THERION material with operatic female vocals and a massive choir.

Christofer Johnsson's passion for classic voices, choirs, and orchestral elements as well as his penchant for epic melodies in combination with rock and metal shines clearly through the following sing-along ballad 'Die Wellen Der Zeit', which indicates another nod to German romantic composer Richard Wagner. "Ever since 'Theli', Wagner has been and will always be at the core of THERION", emphasises Christofer. "When we started to combine metal and opera, it was something new and original. Today, symphonic metal has long been a firmly established genre."

When THERION came into being in 1988 by changing name from the already existing band BLITZKRIEG, which was founded a year earlier, Christofer had rather taken inspiration from SLAYER's "Reign In Blood" among other classic metal albums. At the beginning, the Swedes were firmly rooted in death metal, a genre which they helped to define, as witnessed by their debut album "Of Darkness...." (1991). Yet even back then, there were hints of "something else" lurking beneath the rough surface.

The use of female vocals is another core ingredient of THERION today, which developed gradually. CELTIC FROST had basically introduced the female element to extreme metal on "To Mega Therion" in 1985. THERION began with both a female and male vocalist emulating a church like choir already in their sophomore full-length 'Beyond Sanctorum' (1992). With Symphony "Masses: Ho Drakon Ho Megas" (1993) and "Lepaca Kliffoth" (1995), Christofer continued to developed his trademark sound by gradually drifting towards cleaner vocals and more keyboards. With "Theli", the Swedes had firmly established a reputation of pushing the boundaries of metal in the 90s – among such acts as their compatriots TIAMAT, THE GATHERING, and MOONSPELL that were often referred to as "gothic metal" at the time.
THERION continued to break new ground leaving inspiration for others to follow in their wake: On "A'arab Zaraq - Lucid Dreaming" (1997), Christofer further explored the use of Near Eastern music in metal which he had already begun in 1992, while "Secret Of The Runes" (2001) dared to have Swedish lyrics in some songs. While critics were left confused and fans challenged, THERION were often ahead of their times and vindicated in hindsight. Even the band's 25th anniversary excursion "Les Fleurs Du Mal" has by now overcome the initial shock the album caused and is only beaten in terms of streaming by the classic "Vovin" (1998).
When Christofer faced the question of where to go next after the dramatic "Beloved Antichrist" (2018) had finally fulfilled his musical mission, his answer is "Leviathan" named after a giant sea monster from Judeo-Christian myth that has roots in Babylonic lore: THERION have created a giant hit album – and for the first time in the history of the Swedes, their fans are not asked to explore something new, but simply to lean back and enjoy the best from their band!

“Instead of landscape sketches I wanted to go into more personal areas of my reality,” says Jim Ghedi of his third album In The Furrows Of Common Place. “To hold up certain aspects of society that were laying bare in front of me.”

Whilst Ghedi’s previous idiosyncratic take on folk has often been instrumental, exploring the natural world and his relationship to it through his music as seen on 2018's A Hymn For Ancient Land. His new album In The Furrow Of Common Place is a deeper plunge inside himself to offer up more of his voice to accompany his profoundly unique and moving compositions. “There were things I was seeing around me and being affected by in my daily life,” he says. “Socially and politically I saw defiance but also hopelessness. I wanted to be honest with the frustration and turmoil I was experiencing.”

The decision to include more of Ghedi’s vocals was a conscious one and driven by a need to say something. However, this isn’t a brash raging political polemic. As is now customary with Ghedi’s work, it is rich in nuance, history, poetry and allegory. Musically, the album is equally locked into this ongoing sense of evolution. Ghedi’s intricate yet deft guitar playing still twists and flows its way through the core, weaving in and out of gliding double bass, sweeping violin, gentle percussion and vocals that shift from tender solos to overlapping harmonies.

As with much of Ghedi’s work, there’s a rich connection between the past and the current. Musically, he continues to sit in a singular position of sounding distinctly contemporary yet also with a touch of traditional flair. This expands itself into the lyrical terrain here too. “I've been exploring contemporary issues and in that process discovering sources that correlate with similar issues in the past,” he says. “Which proves that these issues throughout history - environmental destruction, working class poverty etc - are ongoing.”

For all the socio-political and historical backdrop to the record it is not one that feels overwhelmed by it. Much like Ghedi’s work when it was largely instrumental - and some of it still is here - it flows and unfurls thoughtfully, with space still being utilised masterfully, creating room to pause and reflect. It’s another inimitable record from an artist that truly sounds like nobody else right now.

CHAI’s triumphant single ‘NO MORE CAKE’ is released on 7” with B-side ‘Ready Cheeky Pretty’.

Artwork by Chai member Yuki.

“The planet’s most fun band unleash their best single yet: all manic intensity and haunting chants underpinned by elephantine bass and taut funk.” - The Guardian

A message from Chai: “You know how I feel about make-up? I feel like make-up has the ability to allow you to be who you want to be. It’s that
super awesome, sparkling kind of magic! Yes you can paint over with it, even recreate with it but… doesn’t that make it just like decorations? The same as a cake no? Because, I’m the original! There’s no reason to become someone else right? My color is only for me to decide! “what’s attractive to us?”, is something CHAI will MAKE ♡ and of course eat as much CAKE as possible! It’s this type
of song!”

When Lindstrom and Prins Thomas get together, expect the unexpected. The Norwegian production duo's third album III is also their first outing together in eleven years, since II from 2009 and as ever, Lindstrom and Prins Thomas have crafted their own unique sonic world between the two of them. This is expansive, luscious electronic music rich with texture and intricacy, patiently revealing every eccentricity while constantly pulling the listener in. Getting lost never sounded so good. Since the release of II, Lindstrom and Prins Thomas have remained more than busy with their respective solo careers, but work on III was taking place behind the scenes the whole time - slow and steady by sending files back and forth. "There's a different process with every album," Thomas explains. "With the first two albums, we had a door between separate rooms in the studio, so I could open my door and play him something. We also toured together a lot after the first album, and after that experience we realized that we work better together at a distance. We're doing our best work by not worrying too much about what the other one of us is doing." Eventually, the bulk of III came together over the last year, as Lindstrom and Prins Thomas teamed up to craft a lush and lovely work that recalls the hazy atmospherics of Air, the loose-fit jazz of Lonnie Liston Smith, and the genreresistant electronic music that both artists have made their name on over the course of their impressive careers. "Our partnership is very democratic "we never turn down each other's ideas. And if it goes wrong, we blame it on the other guy," Thomas says with a laugh. "The tracks that Lindstrom sent me this time were almost like standard house tracks. I already had an idea of what I wanted to do, so I forced those tracks into new shoes and dresses." Above all else, III is a testament to the adventurousness of Lindstrom and Prins Thomas when it comes to soundcraft. Both artists have established separate careers on bodies of work that feature infinite twists and turns, thrilling their audiences with the suggestion of where they've been and where they're about to go. Together, they've crafted what might be their most beguiling and inviting work yet, a jeweled box of electronic music ornately crafted but never losing the sense of playfulness that so many have come to love from them.

Philipp Otterbach’s psychedelic music never been a sunshine pleasure pill. But yet, the souls of his notes are deeply gentle. With “Everything Else Matters” the Berlin based DJ and producer now introduces his debut album, that follows a long introduction. Already since a while he devotes himself with endurance to music. He was an early resident at Düsseldorf’s shrine for outernational grooves Salon Des Amateurs. Since 2014 he releases music under his given name or as Grand Optimist on labels like Grokenberger Records, Knekelhuis or Themes For Great Cities and leaves marks as a remixer for artists like DJ Normal 4, Brainwaltzera, Wolf Müller and Niklas Wandt on labels like Growing Bin Records or Second Circle. His long DJ nights and already released music prefigures the spirits, that he now bunched on his first album. It’s a record, that does not want to pursue a straight categorization. It rather aims to spellbound with an atmosphere, that is made for moments in the absence of hysteria. Tribalistic, trip-hopping rhythms, menacing sounds, cold cool vocal passages, drone chants, morbid goth-ambient spheres, Indie rock indications: its many facets meld into some kind of black highway sound for thoughtful night prowlers in a dissociative state of mind. In context all particles achieve delicate sculptural effects that operate like the surprising architecture of a dream. A forward- thinking dream, that bundles something otherworldly, something unspeakable, that lives hauntingly between the sounds, rhythms and suggested melodies.

Unbegrenzt is the third in an ongoing series of archival records of the unheard music of Swedish composer Catherine Christer Hennix, co-released by Blank Forms Editions and Empty Editions. It follows Selected Early Keyboard Works and Selections from 100 Models of Hegikan Roku (named the #1 archival release of 2019 by The Wire), in addition to a two-volume collection of Hennix’s writing titled Poësy Matters and Other Matters.

Recorded in February of 1974 and featuring Catherine Christer Hennix (recitation, percussion, and electronics) and Hans Isgren (bowed gong), Hennix’s realization of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s “Unbegrenzt” (German for “unlimited”) from Aus den Sieben Tagen is an elaboration both rigorous and radically different from the canonical 1969 recording issued by Shandar. The collection of 15 text pieces written in Paris during May of 1968, Aus den Sieben Tagen, denies its performers notated direction and instead provides poetic cues that hinge upon Stockhausen’s conception of “intuitive music,” a Eurocentric perspective on improvisation antithetical to the vernacular forms Hennix had engaged with as a young drummer performing in Stockholm jazz clubs with musicians like Bill Barron, Cam Brown, Hans Isgren, Lalle Svenson, Allan Vajda, Bo Wärmell, and many others. While both Hennix and Isgren saw the formal prospect of Aus den Sieben Tagen as a productive development of and beyond La Monte Young’s event scores, she here steadfastly counters his rationalization of intuition with the Principle of Sufficient Reason. (Cf. Brouwer’s Lattice.) Eschewing the busy, conservatory-addled lapses into idiomatic citation of Stockhausen’s 1969 recording, Hennix’s alternative realization of the “Unbegrenzt” score’s instructions to “play a sound with the certainty that you have an infinite amount of time and space” is based on her concept of Infinitary Compositions, the trademark of her ensemble The Deontic Miracle which, at one time, considered adding Stockhausen, La Monte Young and Terry Jennings scores to its repertoire. Taking a mature, minimal iteration of Stockhausen’s compositional method of “moment-forming” to heart, her version’s dark, controlled feedback and amplified bowed gong subtly shift through an immanent sequence of formative moments, step by step. Its bubbling computer noise, percussion, and repeated ominous transient sounds of temple blocks over the bowed gong terminate with the integrated recitation of exotic text fragments from Hevajra Tantra which faithfully take Stockhausen’s score into deeper vistas of the unconscious and a more devastating opening to the unlimited time and space of a dreaming mind.

Audio restoration and mastering by Stephan Mathieu, with an essay by Bill Dietz.

Catherine Christer Hennix (b. 1948) started her creative life playing drums with her older brother Peter, growing up in Sweden where she heard jazz luminaries, such as John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Dexter Gordon, Archie Shepp, and Cecil Taylor perform from 1960 to 1967. Directly after high school, Hennix went to work at Stockholm’s pioneering Elektronmusikstudion (EMS), where she developed early tape music, incorporating computer generated speech done at the Royal Technological University (KTH), where she was an undergraduate student. After traveling to New York In 1968, she met artists Dick Higgins and Alison Knowles who invited her to stay at the Something Else Press Town House where she had the opportunity to meet, among others, composers John Cage, James Tenney, and Phil Corner. During the following years she developed fruitful collaborative relationships with many composers in the burgeoning American avant-garde, including, most significantly, Henry Flynt and La Monte Young. Young introduced Hennix to Hindustani raga master Pandit Pran Nath and she would later study intensively under him as his first European disciple. While Hennix continued to make music performing alongside Arthur Russell, Marc Johnson, Henry Flynt, and Arthur Rhames, she also served as a professor of Mathematics and Computer Science at SUNY New Paltz and as a visiting Professor of Logic (at Marvin Minsky’s invitation) at MIT’s Artificial Intelligence Laboratory. In recent years Hennix has led the just-intonation ensemble the Chora(s)san Time-Court Mirage, which has featured musicians Amelia Cuni, Amirtha Kidambi, Chiyoku Szlavnics, Hilary Jeffrey, Amir El-Saffar, Benjamin Duboc and Rozemarie Heggen. She currently resides in Istanbul, Turkey pursuing studies in classical Arabic and Turkish makam.