quête:space farm

Kevin McCormick's unreleased bedroom studio tape material (1982-1984). Moods similar to Durutti Column, Woo, Crosby’s spacey moments, and Boards Of Canada’s nostalgia.

Following the release of Light Patterns in 1982, Kevin recorded a series of songs onto tape that explored the sonic possibilities of a solitary guitarist. Shedding the acoustic sound of his previous effort, he adopted a swelling electric palette to apply his moods to. These recordings are a shift in direction to a sparse and ambient style, and their hazy, repetitive movements create room for evocative melodies.

Kevin fills a deficiency of guitar-forward music with his minimalistic approach that is somewhere in the space between ambient, rock, jazz, and avant-garde. On Sticklebacks, he casts away the morning elegance of Light Patterns and leans further into the introverted feelings of the small hours. It is a nascent springtime journey that shows just what Kevin is capable of with six strings.

A double shot of Y2K digi thrillers from Sydney via Bromley electro-dub producer Jeff Dread. Part of the city’s burgeoning network of blunted bass and sound system culture, Dread worked in parallel with the likes of Sheriff Lindo, Andy Rantzen and Ali Omar, issuing two dynamite albums on Creative Vibes in 1999 and 2001.

Utilising the Atari 1020 Ste, Dread would frantically live mix up to 9 tracks direct to CD-R, echoing the same rough and ready low tech intuition as Jamaican trailblazers King Tubby, Scientist and Jack Ruby and their UK-based disciples Jah Shaka, Adrian Sherwood and Mad Professor. While unmarked discs of his indulgently durational sessions litter the archives, this plate showcases versions immortalised by two crucial compilation CDs. Wicked stepper ‘Dub The Farmer’s Daughter’ burrows the ear canal with its addictive melodica and tightly coiled acid synth lines, edited for high impact by Sheriff Lindo for his volume of Dub For the Masses (Dread would curate its successor), while ‘Out On A Limb’ hails from Just Is, a double album sequenced by legendary Sydney queer party crew Club Kooky. A bass bin creeper that was extended with horns for his second longplayer Return From Alpha One, it’s this unembellished work in progress that really stings.

With Dread’s allegiance to local sound system heavyweights Firehouse, these totally brained studio jams are tried and tested weapons, finally blasting on the sacred 7” format.

Nyokabi Kari?ki wrote her upcoming EP, peace places: kenyan memories out next year on SA Recordings, while away from home, Kenya, in the United States, during the pandemic. She found that imagining peaceful, gentle, memories from her 18 years of a childhood in Kenya became an antidote to remedy homesickness and emotional fatigue — and almost naturally, these imaginings evoked a very visceral and creative response within her. From Nyokabi’s childhood home in Nairobi, where her piano, gifted to her at age 8, still sits; to her father’s hometown of K?r?nyaga (‘Ngurumo, or Feeding Goats Mangoes’) and her grandmother’s farm in Kiambu (A Walk Through My C?c?’s Farm); from holidays by the Kenyan coast (‘Galu’ and ‘Naila’s Peace Place’) to a few in Laikipia (‘Equator song’); these places find themselves crystallised in each track of the EP, most apparent through the inclusion of field recordings taken in each respective place; but also in the music and lyricism of the pieces. As she worked on this record, she realised that her mind was not only taking solace in imagining ‘home’ as physical spaces, but also in seeing that ‘home’ was in ancestry, in language and words, in family and friends, in the palpability of her instruments, in harmony but also dissonance, and of course, in music. My album artwork was painted by a dear childhood friend, Naila Aroni, and so I decided to give back in a similar way: by creating a track around her own ‘peace place’. She chose Lamu on the Kenyan coast, a place I’d never been, so I used the video to guide me. In it, she walks along the beach with her best friend, having a conversation that — in the track, we first hear as a unrecognisable ‘yells’, which are actually timestretches of the conversation; framed alongside hyperreal flurries on the vibraphone (played by Chris O’Leary). Then, in the final moments of the song, the conversation is revealed: “Naila, how happy are you?” her best friend asks. “It doesn’t even feel real, It’s surreal,” Naila responds. When I’d heard the audio, the emotion of pure joy & euphoria seemed distilled into the sounds of their voices. And so Naila’s Peace Place is an effort to freeze that moment in time, so we can marinate in the sound of that joy for just a little longer. - Nyokabi on Naila’s Peace Place.

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

Effervescent Space Farm Fertilizer

Famed free jazz concert registration of an early New Direction for the Art performance. Recorded in 1971. Old-style Gatefold LP, with rare photographs & extensive liner notes by Alan Cummings.

The performance by Takayanagi Masayuki New Direction for the Art at the Gen’yasai festival on August 14, 1971 was an intense, bruising collision between the radical, anti-establishment politics of the period in Japan and the febrile avant-garde music that had begun to emerge a few years before. The ferocious performance that you can hear here was received with outright hostility by the audience, who responded first with catcalls and later with showers of debris that were hurled at the performers. Takayanagi though described the group’s performance to jazz magazine Swing Journal as a success, “an authentic and realistic depiction of the situation”.

In 1962, Takayanagi, bassist Kanai Hideto and painter Kageyama Isamu went on to form an AACM-style musicians’ collective called the New Century Music Research Institute. Every Friday, members gathered at Gin-Paris, a chanson bar in the fashionable Ginza district of Tokyo, to push the outer limits of jazz creativity.

But the pivotal moment for his music was the creation a new trio version of his New Directions group in August 1969, with the free bassist Yoshizawa Motoharu and a young drummer Toyozumi (Sabu) Yoshisaburō. Experiments eventually led to the creation of two basic frameworks for improvisation that Takayagi referred to as Mass Projection and Gradually Projection.

“La Grima” (tears), the piece that was played at the Gen’yasai festival, is a mass projection and listening to it, you can get a clear sense of what Takayanagi was aiming at. Mass projection involves a dense, speedy and chaotic colouring in of space that destroys the listener’s perception of time, and thus of musical development.

The ferocity of the performance of “La Grima” at the Gen’yasai Festival in Sanrizuka on August 14, 1971 was consciously grounded by Takayanagi in a particular historical moment, ripe with conflict and violence. A month after the festival, on September 16, three policemen would die during struggles at the site. This was the context that the three-day Gen’yasai Festival existed within. The line-up reflected the radical politics of the movement, with leading free jazz musicians like Takayanagi, Abe Kaoru, and Takagi Mototeru appearing alongside radical ur-punkers Zuno Keisatsu, heavy electric blues bands like Blues Creation, and Haino Keiji’s scream-jazz unit Lost Aaraaff.

New Direction for the Arts trio topped the bill on the opening day, playing an aggressive, uncompromising “mass projection” set of polyphonic improvisation. Alongside drummer Hiroshi Yamazaki and saxophonist Kenji Mori, Takayanagi soloed hard and continuously for forty minutes. This was performance as precisely calibrated metaphor: three musicians responding to the demands of the moment with instinctive force and fury, untethered by rules, leaderless yet not rudderless (the direction part of the group’s name was no accident). The piece was entitled La Grima – tears - and the fusion between the palpable anger of the performance and hopeless sadness of its title were also perfectly apt for the situation. This was a fight that the state was always going to win. Yet, by all accounts, the band’s set went down like a fart at a funeral. The band were showered with catcalls and debris throughout, and by chants of “go home” when the music finally came to an end.

However, looking back at the event in the year-end issue of Japan’s leading jazz magazine, Swing Journal, Takayanagi was surprisingly upbeat: New Directions brought a solid political consciousness to our performance and succeeded in an authentic and realistic depiction of the situation. But journalism revealed its superficiality in its inability to penetrate the core of the music. I don’t know much about anyone else, but we at least left behind a competent record.

It’s a fascinating statement in many ways. Perhaps on one-hand it can be read as stubborn, solipsistic and self-justifying, yet in conjunction with his statement in 1971 there are points that guide us towards an understanding of just what Takayanagi intended with his performance at the festival. As Kitazato Yoshiyuki has argued, it becomes an almost religious act, directed at the earth deities of the land. A union of anger, sorrow and malevolence that can be placed nowhere effective, all it can do is find expression and channeling. The forcible land seizures at Narita, the eviction of farmers from land that had been in families for generations, the destruction of communities: none of this can be prevented, not least by an artistic action. All that can be done is an attempt to mark the land itself, to soak it with the combined force of emotions and the volume of the performances, to bury something there that cannot be drowned out, even by the coming roar of jet engines.

As funny as it may sound, Anaïs Mitchell has spent the past 15 years in some kind of hell. OK, not actual hell, but the multi-faceted world of Hadestown, a musical project she began in Vermont in 2006 that has grown into a Tony®- and Grammy®-award-winning Broadway phenomenon with touring editions now delighting audiences as far away as South Korea.

“I experienced so much joy working on Hadestown, but it just kept ramping up and up and requiring more and more attention,” Mitchell admits. “I had to become so single-minded and really put blinders on to my other creative life.” As it did for many artists, the COVID-19 pandemic unexpectedly offered Mitchell a blank slate to reconnect with her own music. The result is a new self-titled album made with close collaborators from Bon Iver, The National and her own band Bonny Light Horseman, Mitchell’s first collection of all-new material under her own name since 2012’s Young Man in America.

“I was nine months pregnant when the pandemic reached New York, so we made an 11th hour decision to leave and have the baby in Vermont,” Mitchell recalls. “We left the city and had the baby a week later, and then like everyone, we were in the midst of this unprecedented stillness. It felt like I could see behind me: oh, there’s New York City. There’s Hadestown. There’s my life with just one kid. A certain kind of stress and expectations. In Vermont, we moved onto my family farm and lived in my grandparents’ old house, with a new baby. I’d look at pictures on my phone from a few months earlier and wonder, whose life was that? This record, and the songs that are on it, came out of that time. I got into a flow again that I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Dubbed by NPR as “one of the greatest songwriters of her generation,” Mitchell is a master of the worlds of narrative folksong, poetry and balladry. Those talents are evident from the first moments of the new album, as Mitchell narrates what she calls “an unbearably romantic” trip over the Brooklyn Bridge colored by Bon Iver member Michael Lewis’ heartstring-tugging saxophone accompaniment. “Having left New York, I was able to write a love letter to it in a way I never could when I was living there,” she says. “It was like, fuck it. This is how I feel. There is nothing more beautiful than riding over one of the New York bridges at night next to someone who inspires you.”

Produced by Mitchell’s Bonny Light Horseman bandmate Josh Kaufman, the album proceeds to chronicle Mitchell’s reconnection with the Vermont roots that have been so formative in her life and music. “Bright Star” finds her making peace with the idea of being at peace in the familiar setting of her grandparents’ house, while “Revenant” was inspired by paging through a box of journals and letters belonging to herself and her grandmother — “a very pandemic activity,” she says. “That house is literally my happy place. I can picture myself as a kid, in this house, laying on the carpet with a sunbeam coming through the sliding glass door. There’s something about it that is really connected in my mind to my childhood and a very free, imaginative, creative time. “Revenant” has a lot to do with that house and reconnecting with my childhood self.”

Mitchell concedes that she tends “to be someone who thinks it has to be hard in order for it to be good or beautiful,” but that feeling has changed, partly thanks to her deep connection with musicians she’s met through the 37d03d collective established by The National’s Aaron and Bryce Dessner and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. During the pandemic, some of those artists participated in a “song a day” writing group — an idea Mitchell says is usually “totally opposite of how I roll. But it really helped me to gain access to some kind of trust and intuition and flow. I began a bunch of these songs while doing that.”

“It unlocked something that allowed me to finish a bunch of songs I’d been sitting on, and feeling a bit paralyzed about how to finish them,” she continues. “Because no one was touring, it’s not like I was playing them for anyone before we were in the studio. In other times, I’ve trotted things out in advance. Here, it was like, here’s all these brand new songs. Let’s discover what they can be. That was really exciting.”

That discovery process took flight at Dreamland Recording Studios outside Woodstock, N.Y., which Mitchell describes as “this weird, janky, beautiful church - it’s my favorite studio in the world.” Kaufman, Lewis and Big Red Machine drummer JT Bates formed a core band around Mitchell, while Aaron Dessner and Thomas Bartlett joined the sessions mid-week on guitar and piano, respectively.

After the appropriate COVID tests came back negative, “it was a pretty extraordinary feeling to hug, kiss and share the same space playing together,” Mitchell says. “We went into that world for a week and didn’t leave the studio for any reason. I felt very safe with all those guys. It was warm and joyful.”

Mitchell says this environment brought out unexpected details in the material, which was recorded almost entirely live together in the room. “Sometimes we tried separating things out, like vocals, but we always ended up back in the room together,” she says. Indeed, after spending the better part of a day recording overdubbed versions of “Little Big Girl” that nobody loved, the musicians gave up and tracked it again live. “We got so frustrated that we went in and I was like, I’m just going to sing this as hard as I fucking can. It felt like that’s what the song wanted to be,” Mitchell says. “It felt like all those songs wanted to be recorded as live as possible.” The exception to the rule was Nico Muhly's arrangements for strings and flute, which were added from New York City afterward.

Mitchell will debut the new material during various headline tours in the U.S. and Europe in 2022, at which she’ll be accompanied by players from the album. On stage, she can’t wait to further hone the sights, sounds and scenes that bring the songs to such vivid life. “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to write in the voice of other characters, especially with Hadestown. It’s fun for me, but these songs are not that,” she says. “Weirdly, they’re all me. The narrator is me. That’s why it felt right to self-title the album. It felt like after so many years of working on telling other stories, now here are some of mine.”

As funny as it may sound, Anaïs Mitchell has spent the past 15 years in some kind of hell. OK, not actual hell, but the multi-faceted world of Hadestown, a musical project she began in Vermont in 2006 that has grown into a Tony®- and Grammy®-award-winning Broadway phenomenon with touring editions now delighting audiences as far away as South Korea.

“I experienced so much joy working on Hadestown, but it just kept ramping up and up and requiring more and more attention,” Mitchell admits. “I had to become so single-minded and really put blinders on to my other creative life.” As it did for many artists, the COVID-19 pandemic unexpectedly offered Mitchell a blank slate to reconnect with her own music. The result is a new self-titled album made with close collaborators from Bon Iver, The National and her own band Bonny Light Horseman, Mitchell’s first collection of all-new material under her own name since 2012’s Young Man in America.

“I was nine months pregnant when the pandemic reached New York, so we made an 11th hour decision to leave and have the baby in Vermont,” Mitchell recalls. “We left the city and had the baby a week later, and then like everyone, we were in the midst of this unprecedented stillness. It felt like I could see behind me: oh, there’s New York City. There’s Hadestown. There’s my life with just one kid. A certain kind of stress and expectations. In Vermont, we moved onto my family farm and lived in my grandparents’ old house, with a new baby. I’d look at pictures on my phone from a few months earlier and wonder, whose life was that? This record, and the songs that are on it, came out of that time. I got into a flow again that I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Dubbed by NPR as “one of the greatest songwriters of her generation,” Mitchell is a master of the worlds of narrative folksong, poetry and balladry. Those talents are evident from the first moments of the new album, as Mitchell narrates what she calls “an unbearably romantic” trip over the Brooklyn Bridge colored by Bon Iver member Michael Lewis’ heartstring-tugging saxophone accompaniment. “Having left New York, I was able to write a love letter to it in a way I never could when I was living there,” she says. “It was like, fuck it. This is how I feel. There is nothing more beautiful than riding over one of the New York bridges at night next to someone who inspires you.”

Produced by Mitchell’s Bonny Light Horseman bandmate Josh Kaufman, the album proceeds to chronicle Mitchell’s reconnection with the Vermont roots that have been so formative in her life and music. “Bright Star” finds her making peace with the idea of being at peace in the familiar setting of her grandparents’ house, while “Revenant” was inspired by paging through a box of journals and letters belonging to herself and her grandmother — “a very pandemic activity,” she says. “That house is literally my happy place. I can picture myself as a kid, in this house, laying on the carpet with a sunbeam coming through the sliding glass door. There’s something about it that is really connected in my mind to my childhood and a very free, imaginative, creative time. “Revenant” has a lot to do with that house and reconnecting with my childhood self.”

Mitchell concedes that she tends “to be someone who thinks it has to be hard in order for it to be good or beautiful,” but that feeling has changed, partly thanks to her deep connection with musicians she’s met through the 37d03d collective established by The National’s Aaron and Bryce Dessner and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. During the pandemic, some of those artists participated in a “song a day” writing group — an idea Mitchell says is usually “totally opposite of how I roll. But it really helped me to gain access to some kind of trust and intuition and flow. I began a bunch of these songs while doing that.”

“It unlocked something that allowed me to finish a bunch of songs I’d been sitting on, and feeling a bit paralyzed about how to finish them,” she continues. “Because no one was touring, it’s not like I was playing them for anyone before we were in the studio. In other times, I’ve trotted things out in advance. Here, it was like, here’s all these brand new songs. Let’s discover what they can be. That was really exciting.”

That discovery process took flight at Dreamland Recording Studios outside Woodstock, N.Y., which Mitchell describes as “this weird, janky, beautiful church - it’s my favorite studio in the world.” Kaufman, Lewis and Big Red Machine drummer JT Bates formed a core band around Mitchell, while Aaron Dessner and Thomas Bartlett joined the sessions mid-week on guitar and piano, respectively.

After the appropriate COVID tests came back negative, “it was a pretty extraordinary feeling to hug, kiss and share the same space playing together,” Mitchell says. “We went into that world for a week and didn’t leave the studio for any reason. I felt very safe with all those guys. It was warm and joyful.”

Mitchell says this environment brought out unexpected details in the material, which was recorded almost entirely live together in the room. “Sometimes we tried separating things out, like vocals, but we always ended up back in the room together,” she says. Indeed, after spending the better part of a day recording overdubbed versions of “Little Big Girl” that nobody loved, the musicians gave up and tracked it again live. “We got so frustrated that we went in and I was like, I’m just going to sing this as hard as I fucking can. It felt like that’s what the song wanted to be,” Mitchell says. “It felt like all those songs wanted to be recorded as live as possible.” The exception to the rule was Nico Muhly's arrangements for strings and flute, which were added from New York City afterward.

Mitchell will debut the new material during various headline tours in the U.S. and Europe in 2022, at which she’ll be accompanied by players from the album. On stage, she can’t wait to further hone the sights, sounds and scenes that bring the songs to such vivid life. “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to write in the voice of other characters, especially with Hadestown. It’s fun for me, but these songs are not that,” she says. “Weirdly, they’re all me. The narrator is me. That’s why it felt right to self-title the album. It felt like after so many years of working on telling other stories, now here are some of mine.”

Los Angeles-based duo SANA SHENAI began in 2009 when their Dublab radio-affiliated ambient quintet Golden Hits went on hiatus. Jimmy Tamborello (Dntel, The Postal Service) and Mitchell Brown (LAFMS, Sun Araw, Sissy Spacek) have since amassed a mountain of material culled from 10 years of home recording. In late 2018 the 5-song digital EP "Forewarm" was released by Leaving Records, which now joins seven other pieces on this physical debut double LP for Les Albums Claus, "WARM FORMER".

Brown reveals: "We initially set out to make oddball minimal techno using 50's-80's musique concrete studio techniques and modular synthesizers. This almost happened, perhaps best exemplified by the cut "Humid Beings", but even by the first session's end we'd given in to the open-endedness of our gear, jamming entirely different stuff." Warm Former's sound palette is vast with plenty of almosts and could be's, hosting shape-shifting polyglot sound-field games to investigate, decipher and redecipher. Tracks "Frozen Host" and "Laqua" might be considered uncanny and reminiscent of memories not quite your own. "No One There to Confirm" is the moody melodic sprawler that heavily features both Serge and Buchla synths. Wonky, splicey 1/4" analog tape loops are hiding all over this album but are definitely the stars on "Wizard A Baby". "Worm Farmer" might be the most accessible tune, falling near the crossroads of motorik 70's krautrock and the sprightlier side of Tamborello's own Dntel catalog.

Pressed on 140 Gram Eco Vinyl

Hypersensitive horrors from outer space are back in John Krasinski’s A QUIET PLACE PART II. Returning from the first picture is Emily Blunt (SICARIO), with Cillian Murphy (28 DAYS LATER) and Djimon Hounsou (GLADIATOR) now along for the ride as the Abbott family look for further survivors in their post-apocalyptic nightmare, only to face a further ordeal as they band together with a survivalist desperate to avoid the gruesome fate that befell his family. Returning to score the second film is Marco Beltrami (SCREAM), who creates a similarly terrifying yet beautiful soundscape for the nightmarish experiences of the Abbotts. Beltrami elects

What or HOO do you get if you mix guitarist Neil Halstead, Farmer Dave of Beechwood Sparks with uncompromising folk angel- Jackie Oates, producer-songwriter and organic gardener with a penchant for wah-wah, Nick Holton? The answer is the widescreen, heartbreaking glory of HOO’s second album WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK. A more song filled leap forward from debut CENTIPEDE WISDOM’s post-rock electro adventures. Holton is a master builder of woozy dynamics, his songs unfurl with a mysterious, hooky logic all their own - this is cinematic and deeply emotive machine music. A glorious hybrid of electro, shoegaze, dubby ‘niceness’ and floating dream pop. The spooked, narcotic throb of opener GHOST IN YOU. The pounding, chewy Kraut/Space rock of CRANIUM. THE MIGHTY’s exquisite slow build towards Can-like lift-off. The snarly, groovy drive of centrepiece & single STILL DREAM. A brief flirt with musique concrète on the metronomic NO ONE CAN SEE THIS. The Halstead co-penned shoegazy, echoey swagger of WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK. The album’s poisoned chalice & peak song moment, POWDER MOON. The synthpop of YOU CHANGED THE WAY YOU SMILE. Closer SEA OF GLASS sounds like Leonard Cohen visiting Kraftwerk’s Klingklang studio. Let that sink in - the idea is perhaps the heart of this venture.The detail and texture is extraordinary. A glorious hybrid of an album that over eight songs builds into something unique. Epic and homegrown. Upbeat and melancholic. Questing and questioning. Haunted by loss but future-facing. It’s a genuine marvel. Holton’s HOO co-conspirators this time are Neil Halstead, Charlie Holton, Ian McCutcheon, Paul Blewett, Chris Monger and Lee Lavender. Guests include acclaimed folk singer Jackie Oates and West Coat Legend Farmer Dave Scher

What or HOO do you get if you mix guitarist Neil Halstead, Farmer Dave of Beechwood Sparks with uncompromising folk angel- Jackie Oates, producer-songwriter and organic gardener with a penchant for wah-wah, Nick Holton? The answer is the widescreen, heartbreaking glory of HOO’s second album WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK. A more song filled leap forward from debut CENTIPEDE WISDOM’s post-rock electro adventures. Holton is a master builder of woozy dynamics, his songs unfurl with a mysterious, hooky logic all their own - this is cinematic and deeply emotive machine music. A glorious hybrid of electro, shoegaze, dubby ‘niceness’ and floating dream pop. The spooked, narcotic throb of opener GHOST IN YOU. The pounding, chewy Kraut/Space rock of CRANIUM. THE MIGHTY’s exquisite slow build towards Can-like lift-off. The snarly, groovy drive of centrepiece & single STILL DREAM. A brief flirt with musique concrète on the metronomic NO ONE CAN SEE THIS. The Halstead co-penned shoegazy, echoey swagger of WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK. The album’s poisoned chalice & peak song moment, POWDER MOON. The synthpop of YOU CHANGED THE WAY YOU SMILE. Closer SEA OF GLASS sounds like Leonard Cohen visiting Kraftwerk’s Klingklang studio. Let that sink in - the idea is perhaps the heart of this venture.The detail and texture is extraordinary. A glorious hybrid of an album that over eight songs builds into something unique. Epic and homegrown. Upbeat and melancholic. Questing and questioning. Haunted by loss but future-facing. It’s a genuine marvel. Holton’s HOO co-conspirators this time are Neil Halstead, Charlie Holton, Ian McCutcheon, Paul Blewett, Chris Monger and Lee Lavender. Guests include acclaimed folk singer Jackie Oates and West Coat Legend Farmer Dave Scher

10 tracks of beautiful Hip Hop music produced by Vienna Producer Mez & French producer 20Syl.

"We made this album after running into each other on tour in Brazil then again in France. We kept talking about needing to do a project together then eventually met up on my homies farm in Southern Oregon in the U.S. and made this record. Being in the same space and recording in the age of sending verses back and forth seemed a bit crazy in a sense but we really wanted to catch a real vibe of 2 mc’s in sync and where a real moment and connection was captured. We spent 7 days eating bomb food, living, laughing, writing, recording, and just vibing.

We asked for beats from a bunch of folks but ended up feeling the overall vibes of Mez, a Vienna based producer who I previously worked with on my solo material and whose beats just hit us and Rita as the perfect instrumentation to the album we wanted to create. The incredibly talented homie 20Syl (Hocus Pocus, C2C, AllttA) who I also had worked with before and who Rita collaborated with on his group's (C2C) album came in with 2 joints to round it out. We also got some amazing features from our folks Destani Wolf, Wes Restless, and the ever dope Georgia Anne Muldrow."

LP Vinyl include two exclusive remixes by Moar & Mossy P

'The Works and Days: The Black Sections' is a sound collage album that emerged out of the production material of the film, The Works and Days (of Tayoko Shiojiri in the Shiotani Basin). The film — winner of the Encounters Golden Bear for Best Film at the 2020 Berlinale — is the second feature of C.W. Winter & Anders Edström. It is an eight-hour fiction shot for a total of twenty-seven weeks, over a period of fourteen months, in a village population forty-seven in the mountains of Kyoto Prefecture, Japan. It is a geographic description of the work and non-work of a farmer. A portrait, over five seasons, of a family, of a terrain, of a sound space, and of a duration. The film was named one of the Ten Best Films of the Year by critics at: Artforum, Cargo, Cinema Scope, Desistfilm, Filo, La Internacional Cinéfila, Mubi, Nobody, Senses of Cinema, and Sight & Sound.

The film is accompanied by this LP, TheWorks and Days: The Black Sections, by C.W. Winter, and the photo book, Shiotani, by Anders Edström. The album features musical excerpts from Tim Berne & Bill Frisell, Tony Conrad, Graham Lambkin, Mary Jane Leach, Alvin Lucier, Phill Niblock, Folke Rabe, Éliane Radigue, and Akio Suzuki. Producing, editing, and recordings by C.W. Winter. Mastered by Stephan Mathieu.

Winter & Edström’s first feature, The Anchorage, won a Golden Leopard at Locarno Film Festival and won the Douglas E. Edwards Independent/Experimental Film/Video Award from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association. It was named one of the Ten Best Films of the Year by critics at Cinema Scope, Film Comment, Senses of Cinema, Variety, and Indie Wire and was named Best First Film of the Year by The New York Times. Their first film, a documentary short called One Plus One 2 was made in collaboration with the late British guitarist, Derek Bailey. Their film/video work has shown at such venues as the Institute of Contemporary Art (Boston), Centre national de la photographie (Paris), Kunstmuseum Wolfsburg, Fotomuseum Winterthur, NRW-Forum (Düsseldorf), the Harvard Film Archive, Anthology Film Archives, the Wexner Center for the Arts (Columbus), Centre de cultura contemporània de Barcelona, the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography, and the National Museum of Modern Art (Kyoto).

C.W. Winter was born in California. In 2020, he completed his DPhil in Art Practice & Theory at The Ruskin School of Art at the University of Oxford. He received his MFA from California Institute of the Arts where he studied closely under Thom Andersen, James Benning, and Allan Sekula. His writing has appeared in Cinema Scope, Moving Image Source, Purple, and Too Much. He lives in the United Kingdom where he is currently a Visiting Professor at the Royal College of Art and a Lecturer at the University of Oxford.

Side A excerpts:
“Thursday, May 5, 1977 & Friday, May 6, 1977: Part 4” Performed by Tony Conrad. Used by arrangement with The Tony Conrad Estate
“Sethwork” Performed by Phill Niblock. Used by arrangement with Phill Niblock
“What?? (Second Version)” Performed by Folke Rabe. Used by arrangement with the Folke Rabe Estate
“Pipe Dreams” Performed by Mary Jane Leach. Used by arrangement with Mary Jane Leach
“What?? (Second Version)” Performed by Folke Rabe. Used by arrangement with the Folke Rabe Estate
“2011” Performed by Tim Berne & Bill Frisell. Written by Tim Berne. Published by Party Time Music BMI. Recording courtesy of Minor Music Records/Screwgun Records

Side B excerpts:
“Ceremoniolose” Recorded by Graham Lambkin. Used by arrangement with Graham Lambkin
“Kugiuchi” Performed by Akio Suzuki. Recorded live for TheWorks and Days Used by arrangement with Akio Suzuki
“Music on a Long Thin Wire (Side A)” Performed by Alvin Lucier. Used by arrangement with Alvin Lucier
“A Third Trombone” Performed by Phill Niblock. Used by arrangement with Phill Niblock
“Triptych: Part 1” Performed by Éliane Radigue. Used by arrangement with Éliane Radigue

Composer, multi-instrumentalist, poet, griot, improviser and community
leader William Parker presents a pair of brand new trio albums which further expound on his limitless vision.
One of the iconic and enduring music leaders to emerge in the world over the
last half century, William Parker continues to raise the bar higher.
‘Mayan Space Station’ is his first electric guitar trio album, and features Parker
on bass, alongside Ava Mendoza (electric guitar), and Gerald Cleaver (drums).
Cosmic multi-hued blues, perfect for space and time travel. The unparalleled
rhythmic firmament created by Parker & Cleaver is matched by Mendoza in full
flight. All of the promise imagined by a trio recording of these musicians with
compositions by Parker is delivered to the fullest.
Mendoza’s prodigious talents have illuminated many projects and recordings
as both leader and collaborator over the past decade. As is certainly clear here,
she is committed to bringing expressivity, energy and a wide sonic range to the
music. Gerald Cleaver is an exceptionally gifted poet of drum sound who can
play in the deepest of pockets and manifest all manner of sound to perfectly fit
contours within the most open of forms.
Cleaver & Parker have worked closely on numerous projects, notably within the
nonpareil full-improvising trio, Farmers By Nature, together with Craig Taborn.
William Parker is in vibrant grandmaster blossom here on double bass - in both
pizzicato & bow-as-prism modes.
William Parker: bass, compositions,
Ava Mendoza: electric guitar,
Gerald Cleaver: drums

Hitting number two in the UK album chart and with over a billion streams, in Dissimulation KSI creates space for both his public persona and the personal: big hit features with the likes of Rick Ross and Lil Baby (Down Like That) and AJ Tracey (Tides) sit alongside more intimate, honest tracks. No stranger to defying expectations, Dissimulation received critical acclaim. Clash labelled it “an excellent body of work”; “he’s absolutely smashed it” proclaimed Metro.

It’s no surprise that KSI has been seen on the cover of The Sunday Times Magazine and Music Week; The Observer Magazine, Viper and Notion. Other labels and artists want a piece of the KSI pie too: just look to the success of his features on S1mba’s Loose and Nathan Dawe’s BRIT nominated Lighter. 



With his second album on the horizon, a 2021 tour which sold out in seconds, the launch of his own label and a single with Craig David (Really Love), Anne-Marie (Don’t Play) and YUNGBLUD (Patience), KSI is proving that music is very much his domain. 



KSI brings with him the unrelenting work ethic and infectious energy which YouTube instilled in him. Despite his debut’s success, he’s certain Dissimulation just scratched the surface: the next record, he’s clear, will showcase his artistry’s further progression again. Given FAULT Magazine described KSI as “one of 2019’s biggest success stories - “an emergent hip-hop star” said The i - all eyes will be on his follow up. KSI’s task - writes The Observer - is “not just to make “YouTube rap” but the real thing”. Their verdict? “Mission accomplished.”

Transmeridian is the first album from Departure Lounge (ex-Bella Union) in 19 years. It features all four original members plus a guest appearance from legendary REM guitarist, Peter Buck, one of many long-standing admirers of a band that embodied a lost age of reflective, experimental pop music coming to the fore at the turn of the Millennium alongside The Beta Band, Tunng, Boards Of Canada and Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

The surprise new album, named after the defunct ‘golden age of aviation’ cargo airline for which singer/guitarist Tim Keegan’s dad was chief pilot, is released on Violette Records (formed by Michael Head (Shack, The Pale Fountains) and Matt Lockett ) on digital and vinyl formats on Fri 26 March 2021.
Originally scooped up by Simon Raymonde’s Bella Union label (labelmates with John Grant’s Czars) following the self-funded release of their debut album Out Of Here (1999), Departure Lounge’s sophomore outing, Too Late To Die Young (2002) was equally acclaimed and was honoured as the first ever Album Of The Week on the emergent BBC 6 Music. The band toured extensively in the UK, Europe and the US, including outings with The Go-Betweens, Morcheeba, Paul Heaton and Robyn Hitchcock, peers whose stylistic contrasts reflect the eclectic nature of Departure Lounge themselves.

Calling a halt in late 2002, citing family and geographical reasons (drummer Lindsay lives in Nashville, where their second album Jetlag Dreams (2001) was recorded), the four members remained firm friends and occasional collaborators, before reuniting in late 2019 for shows at The Green Door Store, Brighton and The Lexington, London, ostensibly to support the digital reissues of their first three cult-classic albums. With no plans other than to make some new music, the next day they set off for Middle Farm Studios, Devon.
Tim Keegan (vocals/guitar), Chris Anderson (lead guitars/keyboards/bass), Lindsay Jamieson(drums/keyboards) and Jake Kyle (bass/guitar/drums) channelled their evident joy at being back together into a complete 13-track album, largely conceived and recorded in just one 24-hour session in the company of studio owner and co-producer, Peter Miles. Ranging from soulful Americana to piano and mellotron-fuelled melancholia via pastoral musings on the nature of post-youth and eerie Spaghetti Western-tinged instrumentals, the next leg on the Departure Lounge journey is a multi-mood expression of pure artistic freedom.
The ‘leak’ of instrumental track Al Aire Libre (remixed by Parisian groovemeister Kid Loco) in October 2020 gave little away as to what fans could expect from a new Departure Lounge record, the track going gracefully everywhere and nowhere on a whistled Latino breeze. First single proper, Mercury In Retrograde, covered in the twinkling lights of a music box Casio CZ101 melody, turned the clock back - this was an old live favourite that never got past the studio door. Unfinished business brought to a happy conclusion, the single returned Keegan’s honest and distinctive lyrical voice back to British music at just the time listeners needed it.
It was an emotional thread, rather than one musical style, which gave the first three Departure Lounge albums their coherence. The songs told the story of the band. Transmeridian has the same sense of deeply connected musical energy. The purring, campfire acoustica of Timber and So Long bear no obvious resemblance to the ethereal, end-of-the-evening, piano-led interlude Paging Marco Polo, whilst the quasi-glam stomp of Mr Friendly would normally have no business sharing space with the strange, spacey Gurnard Pines (named after an abandoned holiday camp on the Isle Of Wight). Yet the journey’s ebb and flow, accelerations and pauses make for compelling, grown-up listening. Australia, showcasing the chiming Rickenbacker 12-string of Athens, GA’s finest guitar slinger, leaves no doubt that Departure Lounge’s pop sensibilities also remain solidly intact.
These four friends from different musical backgrounds came together originally with the stated aim of ‘creating music to soothe the troubled soul’. Citing their love of (and placing on record their debt to) influences including Robert Wyatt, Nick Drake, Talk Talk, Lou Reed, Arvo Pärt and Cocteau Twins, the band’s diversity of taste is reflected in the music they create.
Transmeridian is only the second full-length LP released by Violette Records, formed by Michael Head (Shack, The Pale Fountains) and Matt Lockett as a platform for Head’s work and developing into a respected independent label as well as multi-disciplinary event organiser, drawing in outsiders working in music, literature, art and design. The label continues to host live events whenever possible and recently initiated an ELP (halfway between and EP and an LP) vinyl series, putting out acclaimed releases by The Pistachio Kid and Studio Electrophonique.

Backed by members of the David Nance Group, Rosali (Long Hots, Wandering Shade, Monocot) wades through the emotional mire with infectious, earworm melodies led by her luminous voice. With their rich, raw instrumentation, these rock ballads sound like the resilience discovered in facing one’s darkest moments, the assurance of the calm and clarity that comes after the storm. As she sings on the second track, “Bones,” “Through the darkness of the field / I walk through without yielding / To the rest of the feelings / I’m carrying.” With her confident song craft, Rosali illustrates the ability to push through, moving toward something greater without being destroyed by the weight of trauma.

Engineered by James Shroeder and featuring Kevin Donahue (Simon Joyner), James Shroeder (Simon Joyner, DNG, Connor Oberst), David Nance, Noah Sterba, Colin Duckworth, and Daniel Knapp, the album was recorded in ten days and the raw immediacy of the music is palpable across these ten tracks. Added adornment was contributed by Philadelphia's Robbie Bennett (War on Drugs) on organ and keys, and Matt Barrick (The Walkmen, Jonathan Fire Eater, Muzz) makes a percussion cameo on “Whisper,”which was tracked at Philly’s Silent Partner Studio, where No Medium was mixed by Quentin Stoltzfus (Mazarin, Light Heat). The open creative collaboration elevated the songs, resulting in the exciting, vibrant sound of the album.

Rosali wrote the bulk of these songs in January of 2019 while on a self-imposed two week residency in the hills of South Carolina. Alone in an old farmhouse, she experienced supernatural events and faced her own demons in the deepest darkness. Perhaps as a result, there is a boldness that permeates the album, a daring vulnerability in both the lyrical themes and their musical accompaniment. Rosali says, “I approach guitar playing the same intuitive way I sing, which is profoundly spiritual for me. Where words fail, the guitar becomes the conduit for raw feelings, providing a direct connection to them. I’m constantly working on being fearless in my work, which means showing the rough side, the mistakes along with the triumphs.”

While writing No Medium, Rosali was inspired by harmonographs—swinging pendulums that create beautiful illustrations of the mathematics of music—considering how the mind, too, creates images through song. She imagined herself as the swinging pendulum—“a body suspended from a fixed point” (Encyclopedia Britannica), governed by the forces surrounding her. She thought about the pendulum’s relationship to time, movement, and even its use in divination practices. The album’s title, lifted from Charlotte Brontë’s, Jane Eyre, resonated with this vision: “I know no medium: I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings with positive, hard characters, antagonistic to my own, between absolute submission and determined revolt. I have always faithfully observed the one, up to the very moment of bursting, sometimes with volcanic vehemence, into the other.” With the multiple meanings of “medium”—as middle ground, a term for psychics, and as the material of artistic expression—No Medium felt like the appropriate name, describing how the self is shaped by the patterns of life .

The influences for the sound of No Medium reflect this pairing of assured vulnerability, in the stylistic coherence of Bob Dylan’s Desire, the tender delivery in Iain Matthews’ Journey From Gospel Oak, the strut and swagger of Bowie’s Hunky Dory, the ambition and beauty of Gene Clark’s No Other, and the playful catharsis of Harry Nilsson’s Nilsson Schmilsson. The Richard and Linda Thompson-esque album opener “Mouth,” places Rosali within both a physical and emotional space. “East of the river I was travelling on / watch me lie, undone / rest me in a forest, overgrown / until I am free of all that I’ve known,” she sings. There is movement, both within a cityscape, and in her outlook on love. Speaking of her thought process when writing the song, she says, “I imagine confidently walking away from the past, toward a new approach to love and intimacy to achieve a closer relationship with myself.”

In “Pour Over Ice,” Rosali explores her relationship with alcohol and her former reliance upon it as a social lubricant to quell her social anxiety, an energizer to keep moving, a means to cope and self-medicate, and most addictively, to lure out her wild side as a free flowing, good time girl. While drinking helped her through some shitty times, it eventually got the upper hand and became an insatiable hole within. She says, “The ‘you’ in the song is really me, talking to that component of myself struggling with drinking and self-sabotage, caught up in the cycle, and all the bad choices I made.” She sings, “Maybe I didn’t care enough / or can’t remember / chasing small pleasures / making fire from embers.” Rosali wanted her lead guitar on this track to simultaneously sound like a slow motion car crash propelling her through the day, and the sound of a gnawing hunger for something more.

Rosali’s alliance with the Omaha musicians that orbit David Nance Group (including Nance himself) came about while on a Long Hots / DNG tour in the summer of 2019. Great friendships formed and one night after playing in Detroit, Dave suggested they be her backing band. The pairing was effortless and natural, and in November of the same year, they were recording No Medium in a basement in Omaha.

Tim Gick's already-warped patchwork editing of the entire Crazy Doberman output thus far turns increasingly glitched out across the splattered quiltwork of a nine track LP on Aguirre. Any coherent sense of time departs early on the A-side; kicked off with the familiar sound of the Dobes' synth throb and Love-cry woodwinds on top of completely fried electric guitar squiggling, all suspended in spiritual foam; then battered to bits on the greasy flat top of the record's b-side.

Ringing modular synth sirens evoke alarmingly huge Southern watersnakes swimming on top of Oconee river. Total trip zone across two sides: brownouts in the sequence of events, dubby fadeouts, and bright jump cuts in space. Teases of cartoon barrlehouse tickling on the keys of a farmhouse piano and tape melt psychedelia. The recording session in Athens, Georgia was a total "CHUGFEST" recalls Frank Hurricane, the Appalachian juggalo folkie king, who joined the session with the Lafayette, Indiana crew. The presence of Hurricane's own "Life is Spiritual" mirth bulworks the record with a muddy, barefoot hippy hopefullness, steadying the log flume through the notcturnal psychic murk toward the holy morning dew. (J. Russ)

Based on a short-story by the master of horror and fantasy, author Clive Barker (Hellraiser), Rawhead Rex is set in 1980’s rural Ireland. The Demon, alive for millennia and trapped in the depths of hell, is unleashed on the sleepy local farming community. Remembered faintly through pre-Christian myth, the only one that can stop Rawhead's bloody rampage is the historian, desperately racing against the time.
This is the first ever release for the soundtrack by Colin Towns, one of Europe’s most prolific film, television and theatre composers, but also a pianist, songwriter, arranger, producer and collaborator, known for The Puppet Masters, Space Trackers, Maybe Baby, Foyle’s War, Doc Martin, Pie In The Sky.
"The first film I scored was Full Circle which starred Mia Farrow and is still in the BFI top ten for best score for horrorfilms. I felt that film was more of a dark scary mystery. Rawhead Rex on the other hand was clearly a horror film 100%. I visited the film set in Ireland during the filming to take in the atmosphere and meet the actors after which I decided to record the music at CTS in London with a sixty piece orchestra plus electronics. I have always orchestrated my own work and had a wild time with Rawhead which is what I really love doing". Colin Towns

Videosphere, the debut album by Kompakt’s latest signing, the London-based artist Lake Turner (aka Andrew Halford), swoons into focus with “The Sunbird”, a teasing drift of lilting, ambient tones, riding out a submerged piston-pulse rhythm. Across its brief 109 seconds, it manages to traverse evocative terrain – something mythopoetic, something both humble and grandiose, a glimpse of the other behind the sky’s curtain. “I wanted to conjure up something resembling an ancient ceremony or death procession,” Turner nods. “Like a hymn to the surroundings of a faraway hill.” It’s both sky-bound and earthen, a ritual incantation to call in the music of the spheres.

Turner was introduced to the Kompakt family by his sometime collaborator Yannis Philippakis of Foals. He’d previously made music in post-punk and indie groups Great Eskimo Hoax and Trophy Wife, but Videosphere is the first time he’s fully articulated his own vision of electronic music, aside from one limited lathe-cut 12”, 2018’s Prime Mover EP, on Algebra. The lush ambient-disco-techno dreams of Videosphere were constructed and completed in his London studio and at his parents’ arable and sheep farm in Worcestershire, which might help explain the hazy, unhurried pastoralism of the album.

“There was a slight bittersweetness in finishing the record (in Worcestershire) as my parents were in the middle of selling my childhood home,” he sighs, before quipping, “on the plus, I ended up shearing a lot of sheep over the summer.” A student of archaeology and ancient history, Turner is no doubt carefully attuned to the twisting cogs of history and memory, and it’s no surprise that Videosphere has a nostalgic, melancholic cast; much of its beauty rests in the way it tugs, gently, at the heart strings – see the tear-stained cheeks of the lush, dappled “Honeycomb”, or the sweetly sad electro-roundelay of “No Way Back Forever.”

It’s not all drift-dream hypnosis, though – Videosphere is very much grounded in the now. ““No Way Back Forever” is a nod to the linear nature of time,” Turner explains by way of example, “and the tipping point of the world climate crisis that scientists have now declared.” Jayne Powell’s vocals are sent spinning through the song, wound like candyfloss; she takes centre stage on the techno hymnal title track, too. Throughout, there’s a sense of forward movement, despite the life stasis we find ourselves collectively bound by in mid-2020; there’s also a yearning for the communal, for community, that’s captured in the album title, a nod to an object Turner encountered at London’s Geoffrey Museum, “a television set in the shape of a spaceman’s helmet from the 1970s.”

“The vision I loosely had was to make an electronic record that had a communal warmth and almost ceremonial or ritual feel. I wanted to examine the relationship of our archaic minds in the trappings of the modern world,” Turner concludes. “What the Videosphere also symbolizes for me is the oneness of humanity and community, prevailing.”
Eröffnet wird "Videosphere", das Debütalbum von Kompakts jüngstem Signing, dem in London ansässigen Künstler Lake Turner (alias Andrew Halford), mit "The Sunbird" - einem herausfordernden Strom aus Ambient Sounds, die zu schweben scheinen, um sich dann in einen subtilen, maschinellen Rhythmus zu verwandeln. In gerade mal 109 Sekunden gelingt es dem Stück, ein gewaltiges Terrain abzuschreiten - etwas Mythopoetisches, bescheiden und grandios zugleich, gibt uns eine Ahnung davon, was sich hinter dem Himmel verbirgt. "Ich wollte etwas heraufbeschwören, das einer alten Zeremonie oder Totenprozession ähnelt", sagt Turner, "wie eine Hymne an die Umgebung eines weit entfernten Hügels." Himmlisch und irdisch zugleich, eine rituelle Beschwörung von Sphärenmusik.

Der Kompakt Label-Familie wurde Turner von dessen zeitweiligen Mitarbeiter Yannis Philippakis (Foals) vorgestellt. Zuvor hatte er in den Post Punk- und Indie-Bands Great Eskimo Hoax und Trophy Wife gespielt. Bis auf eine limitierte lathe-cut 12", der "Prime Mover EP" auf Algebra von 2018, artikuliert Turner mit "Videosphere" zum ersten Mal seine eigene Vision von elektronischer Musik.

Die üppigen Ambient-Disco-Techno-Träume von "Videosphere" hat Turner in seinem Londoner Studio und auf der Schaffarm seiner Eltern in Worcestershire produziert, was den nebulösen, gemächlichen und beinahe pastoralen Charakter des Albums erklären könnte.

"Es gab einen bittersüßen Moment als ich mit der Platte (in Worcestershire) fertig geworden war, da meine Eltern gerade dabei waren, das Haus meiner Kindheit zu verkaufen", seufzt er, bevor er witzelt, "das Positive war, dass ich im Laufe des Sommers eine Menge Schafe geschoren habe". Als Student der Archäologie und der Geschichte des Altertums ist Turner zweifellos mit den sich unaufhörlich drehenden Rädern der Geschichte und der daran geknüpften Erinnerungen vertraut, und es ist keine Überraschung, dass "Videosphere" einen nostalgischen, melancholischen Einschlag hat; viel von seiner Schönheit liegt in der Art und Weise, wie es einem sanft ans Herz geht - die Tränen benetzten Wangen von "Honeycomb" oder der ambivalente Elektro-Reigen von "No Way Back Forever".

Trotz allem hypnotischen Driften und Träumen - Videosphere ist sehr stark im Jetzt verankert. "`No Way Back Forever`ist eine Anspielung auf die lineare Natur der Zeit", erklärt Turner beispielhaft, "und auf den Wendepunkt der globalen Klimakrise, den Wissenschaftler gerade ausgerufen haben". Jayne Powells Gesang wirbelt dabei wie Zuckerwatte durch den Song und steht auch im Mittelpunkt des technoid hymnischen Titelstücks. Überall ist ein Gefühl der Vorwärtsbewegung zu spüren, trotz der Stagnation, in der wir uns Mitte 2020 kollektiv befinden; trotzdem existiert eine Sehnsucht nach dem Gemeinsamen, nach Gemeinschaft, die im Albumtitel eingefangen ist - eine Referenz an ein Objekt, dem Turner im Londoner Geoffrey-Museum begegnete, "ein Fernsehgerät in Form eines Raumfahrerhelms aus den 1970er Jahren".

„Die lose Vision, die ich hatte, bestand darin, eine elektronische Platte zu machen, die eine soziale Wärme und eine fast zeremonielle oder rituelle Atmosphäre ausstrahlt. Ich wollte die Beziehung unseres archaischen Geistes in den Fallstricken der modernen Welt untersuchen", so Turner abschließend. "Was `Videosphere` für mich auch symbolisiert, ist die Einheit von Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, die am Ende obsiegt".

GROUNDSWELLS’ is the third chapter in Wren’s seasonal lore exploration, and their first through Gizeh Records. These six melancholy-shrouded sonic ruminations swell between intimate performances devoid of adornment, and evolving soundscapes of auditory ruin. Tracing an elemental arch, 'GROUNDSWELLS' captures Wren delving into earthen awakenings.

Launching into a monochromatic dirge, ‘Chromed’ announces the LPs stylistic intentions, forgoing the trappings of traditional harmony with deliberate pendulums of pitch and tone. Swarms of percussion drag the track to its conclusion in a collage of insidious feedback, with oscillations sculpted by the record’s producer, Scott Evans of Kowloon Walled City.

Elsewhere, swift variance is displayed in Wrens’ deft handling of genre and form, refusing to be solely one of either. The record courses between rigid post-punk, broad waves of dreaded sludge, and austere choral reverberations. Pulsating Krautrock themes present in their previous work are revisited, with a focus on embracing archetypal motorik technique, as the LP stretches compositions to their furthest tensions through profuse repetition, straining the cracks between.

Inviting physical, elemental surrounds into ‘Subterranean Messiah’, Wren allow space for the sudden cloudburst of Middle Farm Studios in the introductory passage via location recording, embracing the interplay between source and locality. Combined with the painterly fretwork and ghostly chants of Fvnerals, the collaboration seeks an emotive new path of melodic vulnerability. In contrast, the closing elegy is layered with disharmonious cycles of agonised cello from Jo Quail. As with other conclusions on the LP, the track's commitment to strained repetition is rewarded with sonic climaxes of blackened psychedelia, led by stalagmitic spirals of atonalism.

Throughout the LP, Wren draws from their long-standing apologue, with a partnership of vocalists showcasing a lyrical and vocal interplay thick with a dense lore new to their compositions. 'GROUNDSWELLS' brings Wren to an equinox in their earthly contemplations. Ruminating on the decaying inanition that engenders renewal, this record is a revelry in the cyclical, repetitious infinity of planetary permanence.

It had taken him almost three years to record, but in 1985 Jake Hottell finally finished his debut solo album, Break The Chains. Inspired by his opposition to fracking, anger at government corruption and a series of profound spiritual experiences, a hundred copies of the album were pressed and given away to radio stations, friends and local business interests in Hottell’s home state of New Mexico.



The album would have remained an obscure footnote in musical history had it not been for the efforts of DJs Danny McLewin and Jeremy Spellacey. Between them, they tracked down Hottell to hear his story, offering the former electronics engineer and Nashville-based music producer the chance to get his music to a whole new audience. Now, some 34 years after the private press edition was produced, Spacetalk is giving Break The Chains a full release for the very first time. Hottell began recording the album in 1982 after reading Your Body’s Many Cries For Water, a best-selling book by Dr Fereydoon Batmanghelidj about the health benefits of clean, purified water. Remembering the poisonous, methane-laden water that came out of his mother’s taps in the 1970s – a by-product of extensive fracking activity in the area around the family farm – Hottell wanted to create a set of tracks that registered his concerns, reflected his recent spiritual experiences (many of which he still finds it difficult to discuss today) and offered a meditative listening experience.



The resultant set is suitably cosmic and emotive, with Hottell cannily fusing gentle drum machine rhythms and dreamy synthesizer motifs – influenced, he says, by a love of the contemporaneous new age output of former jazz label Windham Hill Records – with his own glistening guitar passages, which sit somewhere between the homespun riffs of country music and the classical guitar solos that have long been a sonic staple of Spanish styles such as Flamenco. Many of the tracks have stories attached. “Horizon” features a profound spoken word vocal from local man Darald McCabe – whose homemade purified water helped Hottell recover from serious illness – while “El Rio dos les Delores” was composed after discovering that fracking was taking place on a local Native American reservation. “The Truth Is All I Want”, meanwhile, reflects Hottell’s growing exasperation at the extent of corporate greed and government corruption in the United States.



This new edition of Break The Chains has been painstakingly re-mastered from the original master tapes, while extensive new liner notes shed light on the remarkable musical and personal experiences that inspired Hottell to create an obscure, overlooked classic.

Pete 'Bassman' Bain, one of the founding members of the UK cult psych rock band Spacemen 3, formed Alpha Stone after Spacemen 3 and his other band The Darkside split up in the mid-nineties. In 1996 the band recorded the album 'Stereophonic Pop Art Music' and it was released on Bomp! Records on Compact Disc. The album hasn't had a 'proper' vinyl release until now, 2018, when Hoga Nord Rekords continues their collaboration with Pete Bassman by releasing the album.

You can clearly hear that Pete Bassman was the driving force behind Alpha Stone; fuzz, synthesiser -sweeps, programmed drums and processed vocals are the cornerstones in Alpha Stone's sound. Raga-like mantras, heard in Farmer C, lies track to track with more percussion driven grooves and psychedelic pop oriented songs. The album's sound has obviously survived the 20+ years shelved in obscurity and proves the 'Drugby' sound still vital!

It's always hard to sum up a bands particular sound in a few words, but you could say that if you put guitar and bass, synthesisers, a drum machine, and Julian Copes record collection in the hands of an alien, you've got Alpha Stone!

Following his 2016 debut tape, 'A Revolution in Customer Service', Scottish producer Object Agency returns to Kit with his first LP proper, 'Abaa Cove'.

Where 'ARICS', hovered in a cloud of viola-fuelled static, 'Cove' kicks off with an alarmingly crisp KLANG. This is bell-clear, defiantly positive dance music; the sound of a data farm coolly exploring every corner of itself, laughing, lifting free of its moorings and floating into space. Recommended for fans of YMO, Craig Leon, Beatrice Dillon

Goatherder is the seventh album from underground London producer Kristian Craig Robinson, AKA Capitol K. This ace manipulator of audio and punk warlord of groove has crossed a tapestry of styles and approaches with his own secret compass since 1998.

Along with everything from Chinese pop to the marching band music of the United Arab Emirates in his early musical vocabulary, the influence of rave, new wave, grunge, and noise-core would collide to create a bold new sound. His early studio experiments gave birth to his debut, Sounds of the Empire (Planet Mu, 1999) built upon a heady balance of samples and live sources that placed Capitol K at the forefront of the UK's electronic scene. The follow-up, 2002's Island Row, was released via XL Records, with lead single Pillow becoming a daytime Radio 1 crossover. Nomad Junk (2005) combined Asian field recordings into a vibrant psychedelic collage, while Notes From: Life On The Wire With A Wrecking Ball (2008) paid homage to London's squats and free anarchistic artistic spaces of which K was a part for many years. Andean Dub (2012) was an exploratory South American-influenced album of heavy synth laden cumbia sound system tracks.

The last seven years have seen Capitol K's stature as a producer elevated with his establishment of the renowned Total Refreshment Studio and recording work with musicians such as the Mercury Music prize nominated The Comet Is Coming, global dance act Ibibio Sound Machine (Merge), the pan-Arabic Flamingods (Moshi Moshi), Serafina Steer and her BAS JAN project, and contemporary folk artist Rozi Plain, among many more.

This latest work was developed and recorded in his native Malta, where he built a studio in a cave (a former goat stable). K gathered bamboo instruments collected around the world, including an ancient Quecha reeded pipe (his new-found lead instrument), and various resonating vessels and percussive objects including dry fennel storks collected from Punic troglodyte sites, and atonal flutes built from fresh cut farmland reed. Ritualistic improvisations took place over a series of seasonal visits, awakening genetic memory and plant communication.

Back in London the tracks were interfaced and expanded with post-industrial machine beat and bass guitar lock down. Homage is paid to New Age synthscapes, while a Spirit Jazz overtone arrives from K's recent years as the sonic muscle behind a plethora of luminous albums born in his Total Refreshment Studio. Goatherder follows on from the 2016 collaborative incarnation LOOSE MEAT and sonically abridges 2012's Capitol K album Andean Dub.

Outside of studio production and his solo repertoire as Capitol K, Kristian has toured as guest musician with multiple bands over the last 15 years, including Brazil's Cibelle (Crammed Discs), Archie Bronson Outfit (Domino) (whom he also co-produced), and recently Du Blonde (Mute Records).

His last project, Loose Meat, was a collaborative album of poetic dance music received lots of radio play in the UK and toured across the country for a year, performing a number of festivals.

He established the Faith and Industry record label which handled his subsequent releases and through which now he releases a number of other artists that he develops and produces.