quête:sponge

Winston Surfshirt's album Sponge Cake is a critically acclaimed and highly anticipated body of work that showcases the Australian singer-songwriter's unique blend of soul, funk, and hip-hop. The album, which was released in 2017, has been widely praised for its catchy hooks, intricate production, and thought-provoking lyrics. Now, fans of Winston Surfshirt and vinyl enthusiasts alike can purchase a physical copy of Sponge Cake on vinyl. Whether you're a longtime fan or discovering Winston Surfshirt for the first time, Sponge Cake on vinyl is an album you won't want to miss.

Irradiated is the second LP on Appendix.files from Berlin-based sound artist and producer Kurt Reinartz Salgado. Across eight tracks, Reinartz explores the space between dub-techno lineage and ambient experimentation — what he describes as “ADHD-ambient.” Drawing from ’90s German techno and Chain Reaction-era dub, the album blends elastic 4/4 rhythms, fractured breaks, submerged bass pressure, and patient, detail-driven atmospheres.

The record moves from deep dub openings through porous rhythmic studies and warm melodic ruptures, before closing with hydrophone and geophone recordings from Berlin’s Kaulsdorfer See — grounding the LP in physical space and material listening.

Introducing our latest release by Barcelona based corsican DJ and producer Groenogen, a captivating exploration of the duality between light and darkness.

This EP features four distinct tracks, each representing a unique identity within a syncretic soundscape. Dive into complex chopping and interrogative feelings, as he constructs an emotional journey inspired by the 90s progressive house. Expect electro patterns and dreamy outcomes reminiscent of iconic Italian and German Electro House tracks, all infused with tight grooves and unexpected drops that harken back to the golden era of 2000s Tech House.

Get ready for schntzl 2.0

On their 3rd album Casper Van De Velde and Hendrik Lasure, the two SpongeBobs of Belgian jazz, enter Cortizona and take you on board of their newly discovered musical spectrum: Rollercoastin' between extreme emotions Casper and Hendrik slide through 90's Euro-optimism on synths, frantic drum rolls, lost piano sounds and sample wizardry: blending Spanish guitars, voices of singing ladies, slow mo clarinets and the patterns of a percussion robot.

'Holiday' is the result of a residency in Ravenna, Italy, in October 2021, where musique concrète, replica sounds and frenetic hyperpop textures sneaked into the musical world of schntzl. Sculpting a world of friction, hypodermic joyful changes, sad euphoria and good old plain fun.

RIYL: Matmos in a jazz mood, free vibin PC Music, Enya on XTC, improvising Valentina Magaletti, moody SOPHIE, BadBadNotGood going GoodGoodNotBad and other excellent music.

Old-time and traditional music stay exciting for their contrasts. Exacting instrumentation honed through mentorships and late-night jams at fiddler's conventions tangles with a community-sourced inventiveness that influences variants and new sounds. Joseph Decosimo is a master of this genre for this very reason, blending deep technique with an openness and curiosity that keep his music crackling with life. A "marvelous fiddler" (No Depression) and banjo player who braids "exultation and veneration" (INDY Week) into his music, on his third solo album Fiery Gizzard Decosimo gathers a close-knit ensemble of friends from his musical career to infuse his interpretations of fiddle and banjo pieces with a contagious communal joy. As an artist working with traditional music from the South and Appalachia, Decosimo chooses songs based not only on historical significance and lineage but also his own sensory approach. For Fiery Gizzard, his ear was tuned to otherworldly tones and mystery, sourcing from field recordings such as Virginia fiddler Luther Davis' hypnotic version of "Shady Grove" while amping up the music's psychedelic potential. On the middle Tennessee banjo composition "Flowery Girls," a VHS of bluesman Abner Jay inspired Decosimo to rig up a pickup inside a fretless banjo and play it thr ough a tube amp to capture some of Jay's edge and funkiness. But to round out the sound and keep it kinetic meant galvanizing a genre-eschewing crew to jam out - and not in a "spaced-out drooly" kind of way, he laughs, but as a sort of "responsive conversation." Decosimo has always been a community-minded artist. He began playing as a seventh graderin Tennessee, fostering relationships with older players at jams and in homes, a learning mode natural to his inquisitive nature and desire for musical connection. A folklorist by intuition, he later became one by profession, studying with old-time legend Clyde Davenport, teaching in East Tennessee State University's renowned bluegrass program, and receiving his PhD at the University of North Carolina with a dissertation titled "Catching the `Wild Note': Listening, Learning, and Connoisseurship in Old-Time Music." In North Carolina, Decosimo kicked about in the verdant environment of Durham and Chapel Hill's folk and indie scenes, collaborating with artists including Alice Gerrard, Hiss Golden Messenger, and Jake Xerxes Fussell. This community has influenced his own music, including his "sublime and strangely heartening" (Bandcamp Daily) 2022 release While You Were Slumbering and Beehive Cathedral, Decosimo's 2024 "Appalachian mountain music treasury" (New Commute) trio album with Luke Richardson and Cleek Schrey for Dear Life Records. Continuing on this path, Fiery Gizzard is home base for a loose outfit of mostly Tarheel-based musicians from within and beyond traditional music. Inspired by a tour with fiddler Stephanie Coleman (Nora Brown), guitarist Jay Hammond, and synth builder and multi-instrumentalist Matthew O'Connell, Decosimo assembled studiomates based on close friendships and comfort. Coleman, O'Connell, and Hammond contribute to Fiery Gizzard, along with bassist and producer Andy Stack (Helado Negro, Wye Oak), horn player Kelly Pratt (Beirut, David Byrne), Mipso and Fust's Libby Rodenbough, Joseph O'Connell (Elephant Micah), and trad/experimental artist Cleek Schrey. Decosimo's fiddle and banjo work is virtuosic, intricate and simple simultaneously, a testament to his many years of study. On some tracks, his playing or lovely, plain-hearted singing is the centerpiece, such as on his interpretations of Texan street preacher Washington Phillips' 1929 recording "I Had a Good Father and Mother" or the Eastern Kentucky fiddle barn-burner "Glory in the Meetinghouse," famously played by Luther Strong for Alan Lomax. But there's also a trusting open-door policy, like where Southern Appalachian tune "Ida Red" relaxes into Coleman's sweet, confident fiddling and Hammond's loping guitar. As a bandleader, Decosimo's confidence and enthusiasm for the music reveal the heart of traditional music and how it can come to life through community. Fiery Gizzard is Joseph Decosimo as a powerful champion of traditional music - a sponge who soaks up as much as he squeezes out, a responsive artist who makes his genre accessible, and a magnet who can bring musicians of all sorts into his orbit with his same passion.

Emile Sornin has a robot in his life. It's not love, but it's not friendship either, and Forever Pavot is releasing an album documenting the affair on Born Bad. After a bunch of bold pop studio albums and a small stack of soundtracks, Emile needed a break. To put an end to it, he embarked with handyman extraordinaire Jonas Euvremer on the manufacture of an automaton destined to make his musician’s life easier. Melchior, who gave his name to the record, has the face of a ventriloquist's dummy, two plastic left hands, preppy clothes and a primitive logic circuit. This goodie two-shoes cousin of Bender’s is supposed to be doing the interviews and deal with socials for Emile. The plan worked admirably : Melchior is a perfect cover-boy, and his very existence has put our man back to work.



They set a path for phat electronic ventures (and by the way, mostly english-speaking). Sub- continental bass & massive drums, heavy-footed and unabashed : as much appreciated as unexpected. The half-android shares songwriting credits and vocal parts vocoded to perfection. Not a jealous lad, Melchior makes way for a guest of choice on “UFO” and “Waiting for the sign” : Lispector. Julie Margat sings and collaborated on the lyrics for these two bangers that provide a lot of context (robot angst is real). Kumisolo, our favorite Japanese « it » girl in Paris, also sent her “Postcard”, more vapour than song, unreal musical cotton candy of arrangements.


Domotic, who mixes and co-produces, gives a nice spin to “Count to 10”, a hip-hop/kraut crossover with a BEAK> flavour. The Forever Pavot, once a big-band, will be touring as a bass/ drums/keys & vocals trio, with Melchior as guest.



Record after record, Emile Sornin has become an increasingly literate musical illiterate. When needed, his music can still become a thicket of ancient and modern finds. « Le robot gentilhomme », a skillful pastiche of baroque composer Jean-Baptiste Lully, would stand a few rounds against Wendy Carlos. His love for oldies also shines through “Skyway”, a nod to the late Pierre Arvay, France’s Colonel Sanders of library music nuggets.



Forever Pavot may have gone wild, but remains indebted vis-à-vis the golden age of film music. Forebears deluxe Ennio Morricone & François de Roubaix make Hitchcock-style cameos: discreet appearances that you’ll watch out for (those syncopated cascades of syllables at the end of « UFO », and I guess we can indulge with some clavichord/ondioline Victoria sponge). His new flirt is all but a toxic relationship. « Melchior, Vol. 1 »: the robo-bromance is not over yet.

Celebrate the SpongeBob SquarePants Movie with the iconic movie soundtrack. Dive into the Bikini Bottom with tracks like "Goofy Goober Rock" and "Ocean Man," and songs from Wilco, Ween, and Avril Lavigne transporting you to the whimsical world under the sea. This soundtrack is a must-have addition to any music collection. On Yellow Vinyl

Bret McKenzie ist ein Grammy- und Oscar-prämierter Künstler, der vor allem durch seine Band Flight of the Conchords und die gleichnamige Fernsehshow bekannt wurde. "Freak Out City" ist sein zweites Album mit geistreichen, anspruchsvollen Solosongs und baut auf den Stärken seines Debüts "Songs Without Jokes" auf (das vom FarOut Magazine als "musikalische Version eines Kurt Vonnegut-Romans" beschrieben wurde) und wird sicherlich Fans von nachdenklichen Singer-Songwritern wie Harry Nilsson, Elvis Costello, Father John Misty und klassischem Pop-Rock der 70er Jahre Freude bereiten. McKenzie ist international bekannt dafür, witzige, seltsame und einzigartige Songs zu singen und zu schreiben, vor allem für Film und Fernsehproduktionen. Bret McKenzies Lieder wurden bereits von Kermit dem Frosch, Celine Dion, Lizzo, Benedict Cumberbatch, Brittany Howard, Homer und Lisa Simpson, Fred Armisan, Miss Piggy, Amy Adams, Jason Segal, Ricky Gervais, Benee, Isabela Merced, Spongebob Schwammkopf, Tony Bennett, Mickey Rooney und vielen anderen gesungen. Das selbstbetitelte Debütalbum von Flight of the Conchords wurde 2025 mit Gold ausgezeichnet und ging prompt in einer limitierten Gold-Vinyl-Variante über den Ladentisch.

Old-time and traditional music stay exciting for their contrasts. Exacting instrumentation honed through mentorships and late-night jams at fiddler's conventions tangles with a community-sourced inventiveness that influences variants and new sounds. Joseph Decosimo is a master of this genre for this very reason, blending deep technique with an openness and curiosity that keep his music crackling with life. A "marvelous fiddler" (No Depression) and banjo player who braids "exultation and veneration" (INDY Week) into his music, on his third solo album Fiery Gizzard Decosimo gathers a close-knit ensemble of friends from his musical career to infuse his interpretations of fiddle and banjo pieces with a contagious communal joy. As an artist working with traditional music from the South and Appalachia, Decosimo chooses songs based not only on historical significance and lineage but also his own sensory approach. For Fiery Gizzard, his ear was tuned to otherworldly tones and mystery, sourcing from field recordings such as Virginia fiddler Luther Davis' hypnotic version of "Shady Grove" while amping up the music's psychedelic potential. On the middle Tennessee banjo composition "Flowery Girls," a VHS of bluesman Abner Jay inspired Decosimo to rig up a pickup inside a fretless banjo and play it thr ough a tube amp to capture some of Jay's edge and funkiness. But to round out the sound and keep it kinetic meant galvanizing a genre-eschewing crew to jam out - and not in a "spaced-out drooly" kind of way, he laughs, but as a sort of "responsive conversation." Decosimo has always been a community-minded artist. He began playing as a seventh graderin Tennessee, fostering relationships with older players at jams and in homes, a learning mode natural to his inquisitive nature and desire for musical connection. A folklorist by intuition, he later became one by profession, studying with old-time legend Clyde Davenport, teaching in East Tennessee State University's renowned bluegrass program, and receiving his PhD at the University of North Carolina with a dissertation titled "Catching the `Wild Note': Listening, Learning, and Connoisseurship in Old-Time Music." In North Carolina, Decosimo kicked about in the verdant environment of Durham and Chapel Hill's folk and indie scenes, collaborating with artists including Alice Gerrard, Hiss Golden Messenger, and Jake Xerxes Fussell. This community has influenced his own music, including his "sublime and strangely heartening" (Bandcamp Daily) 2022 release While You Were Slumbering and Beehive Cathedral, Decosimo's 2024 "Appalachian mountain music treasury" (New Commute) trio album with Luke Richardson and Cleek Schrey for Dear Life Records. Continuing on this path, Fiery Gizzard is home base for a loose outfit of mostly Tarheel-based musicians from within and beyond traditional music. Inspired by a tour with fiddler Stephanie Coleman (Nora Brown), guitarist Jay Hammond, and synth builder and multi-instrumentalist Matthew O'Connell, Decosimo assembled studiomates based on close friendships and comfort. Coleman, O'Connell, and Hammond contribute to Fiery Gizzard, along with bassist and producer Andy Stack (Helado Negro, Wye Oak), horn player Kelly Pratt (Beirut, David Byrne), Mipso and Fust's Libby Rodenbough, Joseph O'Connell (Elephant Micah), andtrad/experimental artist Cleek Schrey. Decosimo's fiddle and banjo work is virtuosic, intricate and simple simultaneously, a testament to his many years of study. On some tracks, his playing or lovely, plain-hearted singing is the centerpiece, such as on his interpretations of Texan street preacher Washington Phillips' 1929 recording "I Had a Good Father and Mother" or the Eastern Kentucky fiddle barn-burner "Glory in the Meetinghouse," famously played by Luther Strong for Alan Lomax. But there's also a trusting open-door policy, like where Southern Appalachian tune "Ida Red" relaxes into Coleman's sweet, confident fiddling and Hammond's loping guitar. As a bandleader, Decosimo's confidence and enthusiasm for the music reveal the heart of traditional music and how it can come to life through community. Fiery Gizzard is Joseph Decosimo as a powerful champion of traditional music - a sponge who soaks up as much as he squeezes out, a responsive artist who makes his genre accessible, and a magnet who can bring musicians of all sorts into his orbit with his same passion.

Bulbous Monocle focuses its lens further into the legacy and archives of the Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. These Things Remain Unassigned—a phrase coined by Brian Hageman, one of the band’s musical snake appendages emanating from its Medusa crown—is presented as a double LP (gatefold jacket with a twelve page libretto). It gathers together the band’s singles, compilation tracks, outtakes and never before released gems encompassing the arc of TFUL’s musical corpus. Every track has been surgically remastered by Mark Gergis (Porest / Sublime Frequencies / Mono Pause) with his signature craftsman approach. This collection is an auditory and visual feast. The extensive booklet included features band ephemera, concert flyers, photographs, and commentary about each track from Mark Davies. Beyond the rare singles and unreleased tracks from the TFUL archives, are cover versions from such disparate artists and composers as Ennio Morricone, Krzysztof Komeda, The Residents, The Shaggs, Caroliner Rainbow and Pérez Prado. “…In addition to these compilation one-offs, there were also a few studio recordings that were never quite completed or released. Throw in an alternate mix or two and the handful of singles that came out on various labels over the years, and you end up with what I feel works well as its own body of work, a bunch of adopted oddballs that somehow fit together as a family. I hope youʼll agree with me that these things are now no longer unassigned, but part of a somewhat cohesive whole, stitched together into something mysterious and glistening.” —Mark Davies (2023)

LP 1 is Original Reissue, LP 2 is the Instrumentals. This album, originally released in 2019, was highly lauded with esteemed praise, topping many Album Of The Year lists inlcuding NPR, Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, Time Magazine. This vinyl has been out of print and in high demand, repress is restricted to limited quantities and will be out of print again in under a year. Now includes a 2nd LP featuring the never before available Hiding Places instrumentals from Kenny Segal. Fully produced by Kenny Segal, (Project Blowed, Kenstrumentals beat tape Series, Happy Little Trees). LP has unique gatefold artwork by Myra Musgrove and features custom “oakwood” coloured vinyls. Hiding Places is a collaborative album from Brooklyn-based rapper billy woods and Los Angeles beat scene veteran Kenny Segal. As a label, we at Backwoodz take a lot of pride in our physical products; in creating original artwork that will stand the test of time, and in issuing limited-pressings that stay limited. We had always resisted repressing a piece of vinyl and even when the demand for Hiding Places built to a fever pitch during 2019, we stuck to our guns. Still, by the end of the year, as the AOTY nominations kept rolling in, we knew that we needed to do something. But we also were determined not to sacrifice the uniqueness of that first pressing. So we decided to commission all-new artwork, and press up the instrumentals as well and put it all together as a GATEFOLD 2XLP. So, on top of the best album of 2019, you get Kenny’s incredible instrumentals, available on wax for the first time! On its face, it seemed an unlikely pairing; woods who moonlights as ½ of dissonant rap duo Armand Hammer is a chaotic force, the warped relic of an NY indie-rap wave that never happened. Meanwhile, Segal has been in L.A. for twenty years; from paying dues with Project Blowed to pushing the culture forward with Busdriver and Milo. All the while, his soulful, dreamlike production precariously tethered to earth by the right drums or rumbling bass. But look closer and it makes more sense. After all, Segal lent his production to a couple of songs on Paraffin, Armand Hammer’s critically-acclaimed opus, and the two artists have more than a few shared collaborators: Open Mike Eagle, ELUCID, and Hemlock Ernst amongst them. Hiding Places finds both artists deep in the labyrinth. Segal’s lush soundscapes have a new edge, woods’ writing is, paradoxically, at its most direct. Hiding Places is a child’s game: funny and cruel, as brutal as a fairy tale. The album features familiar names from both artists’ well of collaborators with ELUCID, Self-Jupiter, Blockhead and MOTHERMARY making contributions.

Shadow Child & DJ Haus Present RHYTHM FORCE VOL.1 - a deep dive into the aquatic vaults of orgasmic synth pads being sponged by rusty breakz & saturated sub bass

In the words of Hamlin Garland....I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets. It has given me blessed release from care and worry and the troubled thinking of our modern day. It has been a return to the primitive and the peaceful. Whenever the pressure of our complex city life thins my blood and benumbs my brain, I seek relief in the trail; and when I hear the Coyote wailing to the yellow dawn, my cares fall from me - I am happy. Coyote wail away all your troubles. Their dub sensibilities to the fore and supported by ambient textures and chunky bounding percussive rhythms.Another unique listening experience from the IIB overlords

~~~From Mississippi and Olvido Records~~~~~~ Steel-string guitar and vocals by the great Giorgos Katsaros, a mythic figure of Greek rembetiko. Our obsession with underground Greek music continues with 10 ultra-rare recordings of heartbreak and vice from rembetiko legend Giorgos Katsaros. Katsaros, who by some accounts lived to be over 100 years old, carried the old songs of Greece to the Diaspora in the United States, bridging centuries of music in one storied lifetime. Born in 1901 on the Greek island of Amorgos, Katsaros' was enchanted with the songs he picked up as a kid in the streets of Piraeus and Athens. Encouraged by his grandfather, an amateur singer, Katsaros developed a style that mirrored his upbringing - centuries-old Asia Minor songs, island rhythms of his homeland, well-known Athenian songs of the time, and anonymous `rebetiko' songs. Katsaros' songbook was vast, but he was most drawn to the street life and music of the manges of early 20th-century Greece: outcasts who dealt with the indignities of an unstable economy and an inauspicious future with the old standbys: wine, hash, and dancing. These ten tracks are remastered from Katsaros's 64 surviving early recordings, many rarely heard since their original release. Hypnotic melodies plucked over repeating thumbed basslines back his deep, mournful voice. Katsaros brought this nostalgic late-night music to smoke-filled rooms of Greek exiles in Chicago, Philly, and New York, where he emigrated in 1917. He continued to travel the country and play until his music was supplanted by more modern styles in the 1950s. He retired to the town of Tarpon Springs, FL, famous for its Greek sponge fishers, til a late-in-life revival brought him back to Greece for a few massive concerts and national accolades in the 1990s. Like many great artists, Katsaros carefully curated his own mythic backstory over the decades. He sometimes claimed he was born in 1888, making him 109 on his passing, and conflicting accounts of his birth and travels circulate to this day. Greek researchers Stavros Kourousis and Konstantinos Kopanitsanos, who also compiled these tracks, contribute groundbreaking new historical research on Katsaros' life. Lyrics, poetically translated by Tony Klein, further fill in the picture. Clean and rare 78s were remastered by Stereophonic. Katsaros has never sounded better than on this LP, pressed on heavy black vinyl, with extensive notes and lyrics.

~~~From Mississippi and Olvido Records~~~~~~ Steel-string guitar and vocals by the great Giorgos Katsaros, a mythic figure of Greek rembetiko. Our obsession with underground Greek music continues with 10 ultra-rare recordings of heartbreak and vice from rembetiko legend Giorgos Katsaros. Katsaros, who by some accounts lived to be over 100 years old, carried the old songs of Greece to the Diaspora in the United States, bridging centuries of music in one storied lifetime. Born in 1901 on the Greek island of Amorgos, Katsaros' was enchanted with the songs he picked up as a kid in the streets of Piraeus and Athens. Encouraged by his grandfather, an amateur singer, Katsaros developed a style that mirrored his upbringing - centuries-old Asia Minor songs, island rhythms of his homeland, well-known Athenian songs of the time, and anonymous `rebetiko' songs. Katsaros' songbook was vast, but he was most drawn to the street life and music of the manges of early 20th-century Greece: outcasts who dealt with the indignities of an unstable economy and an inauspicious future with the old standbys: wine, hash, and dancing. These ten tracks are remastered from Katsaros's 64 surviving early recordings, many rarely heard since their original release. Hypnotic melodies plucked over repeating thumbed basslines back his deep, mournful voice. Katsaros brought this nostalgic late-night music to smoke-filled rooms of Greek exiles in Chicago, Philly, and New York, where he emigrated in 1917. He continued to travel the country and play until his music was supplanted by more modern styles in the 1950s. He retired to the town of Tarpon Springs, FL, famous for its Greek sponge fishers, til a late-in-life revival brought him back to Greece for a few massive concerts and national accolades in the 1990s. Like many great artists, Katsaros carefully curated his own mythic backstory over the decades. He sometimes claimed he was born in 1888, making him 109 on his passing, and conflicting accounts of his birth and travels circulate to this day. Greek researchers Stavros Kourousis and Konstantinos Kopanitsanos, who also compiled these tracks, contribute groundbreaking new historical research on Katsaros' life. Lyrics, poetically translated by Tony Klein, further fill in the picture. Clean and rare 78s were remastered by Stereophonic. Katsaros has never sounded better than on this LP, pressed on red vinyl, with extensive notes and lyrics.

A twelve-track collection of “cassette-ified” lo-fi psych-pop, ‘Wobble’ is the eleventh studio album from Black Market Karma and their first on Fuzz Club. Hailing from London and now residing on the South Coast, BMK’s prolific output is fuelled by bandleader and
multiinstrumentalist Stanley Belton who writes, performs, records, produces and up until now self-released everything from his own live-in ‘Cocoon’ studio.

Pooling influences from 60s pop and psychedelia, crunchy hiphop break-beats and lo-fi electronica, ‘Wobble’ is the first of a
two-part album series and is due for release July 26th 2024. INDIE
ONLY! Bone coloured vinyl.

Enjoy The Ride Records and Enjoy The Toons Records in conjunction with Nickelodeon are proud to
present Ren & Stimpy - You Eediot!, available for the first time on vinyl. Performed by legendary voice
actor Billy West (Futurama, Looney Tunes, Doug) and Bob Camp (ThunderCats, Tiny Toon
Adventures, SpongeBob SquarePants), this limited edition vinyl reissue of the 90s Ren & Stimpy
album features iconic songs "Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy", "Log Blues / Log Theme", show opening &
closing themes, along with over 15 additional tracks. Housed in a 400gsm jacket with a 4-page
songbook featuring updated artwork by Steven Wild, this is a must have for Nickelodeon fans!

As mui zyu, Hong Kong British artist Eva Liu searches for a portal, wandering between nothing and everything in her pursuit of peace. On her second full-length album nothing or something to die for she looks outward, embracing the chaos with each tentative step. mui zyu's debut album Rotten Bun for an Eggless Century saw her explore her heritage, as she dived inward to find acceptance and healing. Now, instead of searching for answers from the inside, Liu raises her head to look at the world around her. As she attempts to understand the complexities and significance of human existence, she observes apathy alongside overwhelming chaos; the technological advancements of connection with the lack of meaningful bonds and the frustrations of upholding standards set by others. nothing or something to die for tries to decipher these juxtaposing truths, holding both the weight of those trying to destroy the world with the utter futility of it all. Working with co-producer and fellow Dama Scout band member Luciano Rossi, the sonic world of nothing or something to die for encapsulates both the fleeting tranquility of serenity and the dissonance in chasing it. After all, our reality can change in an instant. Like the psychedelic tones of Ryuichi Sakamoto's Thousand Knives, the urgent techno-pop of Miharu Koshis Parallelisme or the eerie wanderings of Angelo Badalamenti's work for Twin Peaks, nothing or something to die for expertly toes the line between disorder and clarity

Nachdem er zig Millionen Alben verkauft, Milliarden von Streams generiert, die Charts gestürmt und Arenen und Amphitheater auf der ganzen Welt gefüllt hat, kehrt Sebastian Bach auf seinem lang erwarteten sechsten Album Child Within the Man mit neuer Musik zurück. Sebastians Rückkehr ist, gelinde gesagt, längst überfällig. Sein letztes Soloalbum, Give 'Em Hell, erschien 2014. "'Child Within the Man' klingt wie ein Album aus den 70ern in einem Video aus den 80ern im Internet im Jahr 2024", lässt er verlauten. "Es wurde von echten Musikern und einem echten Produzenten gemacht und mit echter Dynamik gemastert. Es soll groß klingen".

Mit seiner unnachahmlichen Präsenz, die so laut ist wie seine unverkennbare Stimme, hat Sebastian Bach in Musik, Theater, Film, Fernsehen und Kultur einen Abdruck in der Größenordnung der San-Andreas-Verwerfung hinterlassen. Er hat, unter anderem als Sänger von Skid Row, einige der kultigsten Hymnen der Rockgeschichte geschrieben und eingesungen mit Hits wie "18 and Life", "I Remember You", "Youth Gone Wild" und "Monkey Business". Mit seiner inzwischen legendären Rolle in Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical und seinen Hauptrollen in The Rocky Horror Picture Show und Jesus
Christ Superstar hat er Geschichte geschrieben als "der erste Heavy-Metal-Sänger am Broadway". Er hat in Dutzenden von Fernsehserien und Filmen mitgewirkt, von Trailer Park Boys und Robot Chicken bis hin zu Spongebob Schwammkopf, The Masked Singer und Hell's Kitchen. Was seine Vielseitigkeit betrifft, so ist er die seltene Naturgewalt, die mit Axl Rose im Duett singen kann und eine wiederkehrende Rolle in Gilmore Girls übernehmen kann.

Nachdem er zig Millionen Alben verkauft, Milliarden von Streams generiert, die Charts gestürmt und Arenen und Amphitheater auf der ganzen Welt gefüllt hat, kehrt Sebastian Bach auf seinem lang erwarteten sechsten Album Child Within the Man mit neuer Musik zurück. Sebastians Rückkehr ist, gelinde gesagt, längst überfällig. Sein letztes Soloalbum, Give 'Em Hell, erschien 2014. "'Child Within the Man' klingt wie ein Album aus den 70ern in einem Video aus den 80ern im Internet im Jahr 2024", lässt er verlauten. "Es wurde von echten Musikern und einem echten Produzenten gemacht und mit echter Dynamik gemastert. Es soll groß klingen".

Mit seiner unnachahmlichen Präsenz, die so laut ist wie seine unverkennbare Stimme, hat Sebastian Bach in Musik, Theater, Film, Fernsehen und Kultur einen Abdruck in der Größenordnung der San-Andreas-Verwerfung hinterlassen. Er hat, unter anderem als Sänger von Skid Row, einige der kultigsten Hymnen der Rockgeschichte geschrieben und eingesungen mit Hits wie "18 and Life", "I Remember You", "Youth Gone Wild" und "Monkey Business". Mit seiner inzwischen legendären Rolle in Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical und seinen Hauptrollen in The Rocky Horror Picture Show und Jesus
Christ Superstar hat er Geschichte geschrieben als "der erste Heavy-Metal-Sänger am Broadway". Er hat in Dutzenden von Fernsehserien und Filmen mitgewirkt, von Trailer Park Boys und Robot Chicken bis hin zu Spongebob Schwammkopf, The Masked Singer und Hell's Kitchen. Was seine Vielseitigkeit betrifft, so ist er die seltene Naturgewalt, die mit Axl Rose im Duett singen kann und eine wiederkehrende Rolle in Gilmore Girls übernehmen kann.

Nachdem er zig Millionen Alben verkauft, Milliarden von Streams generiert, die Charts gestürmt und Arenen und Amphitheater auf der ganzen Welt gefüllt hat, kehrt Sebastian Bach auf seinem lang erwarteten sechsten Album Child Within the Man mit neuer Musik zurück. Sebastians Rückkehr ist, gelinde gesagt, längst überfällig. Sein letztes Soloalbum, Give 'Em Hell, erschien 2014. "'Child Within the Man' klingt wie ein Album aus den 70ern in einem Video aus den 80ern im Internet im Jahr 2024", lässt er verlauten. "Es wurde von echten Musikern und einem echten Produzenten gemacht und mit echter Dynamik gemastert. Es soll groß klingen".

Mit seiner unnachahmlichen Präsenz, die so laut ist wie seine unverkennbare Stimme, hat Sebastian Bach in Musik, Theater, Film, Fernsehen und Kultur einen Abdruck in der Größenordnung der San-Andreas-Verwerfung hinterlassen. Er hat, unter anderem als Sänger von Skid Row, einige der kultigsten Hymnen der Rockgeschichte geschrieben und eingesungen mit Hits wie "18 and Life", "I Remember You", "Youth Gone Wild" und "Monkey Business". Mit seiner inzwischen legendären Rolle in Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical und seinen Hauptrollen in The Rocky Horror Picture Show und Jesus
Christ Superstar hat er Geschichte geschrieben als "der erste Heavy-Metal-Sänger am Broadway". Er hat in Dutzenden von Fernsehserien und Filmen mitgewirkt, von Trailer Park Boys und Robot Chicken bis hin zu Spongebob Schwammkopf, The Masked Singer und Hell's Kitchen. Was seine Vielseitigkeit betrifft, so ist er die seltene Naturgewalt, die mit Axl Rose im Duett singen kann und eine wiederkehrende Rolle in Gilmore Girls übernehmen kann.

Zurich bass guitarist and composer Martina Berther is known for her delicious basslines in experimental rock outfits Ester Poly and AUL. On this solo debut, she conjures something utterly unique from her instrument.

'Bass Works' showcases Berther's talent and ingenuity across 12 startlingly varied one-take compositions. Taking root in improvisation, the collection unfolds like a playbook of strange and beautiful techniques.

Voided melodies, harmonics and surfaces that prickle and collapse in solitude and wonder; Berther's bass is a Geiger counter, etching the contours of abandoned landscapes and forgotten languages.

Recommended if you like the alien transmissions of Éliane Radigue, Mica Levi, Olivier Messiaen.

Like the best of them, Daniel Chavez got his start immersing himself in the nightclubs, dingy basements, and record stores of Chicago. Cycling around the South Side with records and a small PA system strapped to his back, he found himself at Smartbar and eventually began slinging records at Gramaphone alongside some of the deepest heads of his generation. Before long, Daniel made the jump to Brooklyn and landed at A-1 Records, while diving further into the global deep house community and soaking up knowledge like a sponge. After sowing seeds in obscurity for many years, Daniel saw the fruits of his labor in 2023 with a debut 12” on Halo’s Muted Noise imprint.

These tracks were designed and refined over the course of a year to meet the strict specifications of the Jewel soundsystem and dancefloor. “Writing on Water” is a submersive, simmering tune that heaves and moans for eight minutes, but could probably go on for an hour. “Terras” strips away the layers to reveal a spacious, floating world supported by a fat, rolling bassline. On the flip, “Spiraling” echoes a feeling of early My Love Is Underground and the New York deep house golden era before it: a time of revolution. Finally, “67th Session” combines space and depth with a simple vibraphone riff that can go off day or night.

Superheaven and Run For Cover Records have teamed up to commemorate the ten year anniversary of the band's breakthrough debut album JAR. After first hitting stores in Spring of 2013, this latest update to the legacy of one of Run For Cover's most important titles comes out April 28, 2023. The eastern-Pennsylvania four piece had been building anticipation for their first full-length for years, releasing multiple EPs and playing shows with local contemporaries like Tigers Jaw and Balance and Composure. Working with producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight) at Studio 4 in Conshohocken, PA, these songs showcase a talent for writing both jarringly heavy and delicately emotional songs, mixed with the size and clarity of major label grunge breakthrough records like Nirvana's Nevermind or Failure's Fantastic Planet. The revamped anniversary edition features new, updated packaging as well as two bonus tracks - "Siblings," a Jar-era one-off single and "Lucky," a vinyl-exclusive b-side from the LP sessions.

Sign Libra's third album Hidden Beauty is an intimate voyage through feminine nature, guided by the arts of subtext, musical collage, and mysterious allusions. Elegantly arranged, enigmatic, and mischievous, Hidden Beauty seeks to "release the invisible and bring fragility to the surface." From the rainforests of Closer to the Equator (Sounds of the Dawn, 2016 / Antinote, 2018) to the surreal lunar landscape of Sea to Sea (RVNG Intl., 2020), Agata Melnikova, the Latvian musician behind the Sign Libra symbol, has developed a signature blend of evocative composition with lyricless, ethereal vocalizing. Hidden Beauty attends to a closer space than her first two albums, a playfully layered pastiche of refined references, drawing musical inspiration from the assortment of Erik Satie, the early work of Mylène Farmer and Laurent Boutonnat, and 90s R&B. The first inklings of Hidden Beauty arrived in 2019, with the basic contours of the album sculpted in 2020 and early 2021. Like Sea to Sea, Hidden Beauty was invented as a solitary creative effort, but this time under uniquely hermetic impositions. Tethered to the world only by screen, the artist sought inspiration from an unlikely array of activities: new, unorthodox approaches at composing, learning French, a virtual pedagogical practice, and plenty of jubilant dancing in her flat, sunglasses on, to 90s dance music. Hidden Beauty moves inward from the distant spaciousness of Sea to Sea in favor of a "chamber-like" sound, reflecting the intimate environs of its creation. Balancing the New Age balletic resonance of Closer to the Equator and the cosmic-dancerly tracks of Sea to Sea, Hidden Beauty combines deft, postmodern arrangements with popular, contemporary suggestions. The reverb drenching her previous recordings is sponged up in the songs of Hidden Beauty, giving the exercises contained within a feeling of presence, and closeness. And always Agata's crystalline vocal furnishings, less a lead vocal than a first instrument, the ever-returning counterpoint in a beatific swirl. The other hidden elements of this work are plenty, and perhaps best left concealed for the listener's enjoyment. Or perhaps they are hidden in plain sight and sound, depending on what the puzzle pieces reveal to your imagination. Sign Libra's Hidden Beauty will be released in vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on November 3, 2023. A portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit Coral Guardian, a non-governmental organization working internationally and with local communities to protect coral ecosystems.

Toy Tonics going New Wave Disco with Baby’s Berserk’s self-titled debut album (to be released on 29 September).

There are many shades of funk in dance music. Berlin’s Toy Tonics label brings up artists that reflect many of these different aspects in dance music. Now the label comes up with a band! A band that is inspired by 1980ies New Wave as well as the Y2K Indie dance scene. Two guys and 2 girls from Amsterdam and Montreal called Baby’s Berserk.

Baby’s Berserk is about taking the freedom to be who you want to be, about being comfortable. Having played in all-girl punk bands since the age of 14, the bands singer Lieselot is an expert on female empowerment. “Dress like a girl and act like a boy,” is a catchphrase she lives up to every day and it clearly is a message that resonates with the band’s wild fans.

In the great tradition of Roxy Music, Throbbing Gristle and Malcolm McLaren, Baby’s Berserk is not just about the edgy music, but also about a very strong own visual style. They readily blend their sounds with underground fashion. What you see is what you get and seeing Baby’s Berserk is feeling right at home. Lieselot is a visionary when it comes to stage presence. Have you always wanted to see an electronic band with a punk attitude perform wearing a mix of haute couture and Flintstone-style rags? Look no further, it’s Baby’s Berserk.

Following on the critically acclaimed singles ‘What I Mean’ (2020) and ‘Toxic Kisses’ (2022), Baby Berserk’s highly anticipated self-titled full-length is now finally about to see the light on Berlin’s Toy Tonics records. Sonically designed for gritty rock venues as well as up-to-date edgy dance clubs, Mano’s lush compositions smoothly intertwine with the highly associative lyrics written by Puggy and Lieselot. Poets and literary addicts may think they’ve just discovered the rock & roll equivalents of Sylvia Plath, Kurt Vonnegut and Allen Ginsberg. To tell you the truth: their wild guess is pretty accurate as the works by these greats lie scattered around the Baby’s Berserk studio for inspiration.
The band was born in a laboratory back in 2019. Tired of being in bands with unruly and unpredictable humans, Mano Hollestelle set out to create a group of high precision robots to create the post-punk sound he had in mind. His outdated technology of floppy disks and cassette tapes worked well to program the androids, until one day a 90s rave mixtape was mistakenly entered into his computer. House music is a feeling and the punk bots instantly got hooked on it upon hearing it for the first time. They could never be reset to factory settings again. Mano worked tirelessly with his androids, currently known by their humanoid names of Lieselot Elzinga, Puggy Beales and Eva Wijnbergen, to fulfil his evil plan to make the rockers dance and the dancers rock. Baby’s Berserk is the fiendish extension of this plot. Beware, the band’s bass driven grooves and computerized beats have been known to cast a spell upon all within earshot.

So what do the songs on ‘Baby’s Berserk’ tell you? That it’s totally fine to have lots of fun in life! To have a boyfriend as an accessory (‘Accessories’), to get inspired by Sponge Bob (‘Dancing with the Fish’) and to blend your spirits with mixers whenever the hell you feel like it (‘Rum ‘n’ Kola’).

Baby’s Berserk member Puggy Beales on ‘Limousine’: “Decant the wine from my tip jar to yours. Soon we'll be on easy street, chauffeured home from the rat race each evening. Is it everything you'd hoped it would be?”

Check not only the debut album but also the forthcoming Remix EP with remixes by Each Other, Niklas Wandt, Sam Ruffillo, Kris Baha and Nicolini.

Superheaven and Run For Cover Records

have teamed up to commemorate the ten year anniversary of the band’s breakthrough debut album JAR. After first hitting stores in Spring of 2013, this latest update to the legacy of one of Run For Cover’s most important titles comes out April 28, 2023

The Flaming Lips veröffentlichten 2002 "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots", welches das meistverkaufte Album der Band ist und in den USA mit über 700.000 verkauften Alben mit Gold ausgezeichnet wurde.
Das Album enthält einen der kultigsten Songs der Band - "Do You Realize?" - sowie die Singles Fight Test, Ego Tripping at the Gates
of Hell und den Titeltrack. Die 20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition 5 LP Vinyl Box Set enthält das Originalalbum, B-Seiten, Demos und Radiosessions sowie weitere Raritäten. Die Vinyl-Box enthält 56 Tracks, von denen über 30 bisher unveröffentlicht sind, und 40, die zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl erhältlich sein werden.

As a self-described “sponge for club music”, London-based Bristol transplant Ian DPM has cut a singular figure in both the West Country and the capital in just a handful of years. Already situated as the tastemaker behind music curation platform Definite Party Material, co-owner of Scuffed Recordings, and Noods Radio and Rinse FM resident, Ian DPM’s emergence as a producer has marked him as an expansively curious, bass-forward figure at the bleeding edge of genre boundaries.

After retreating to his hometown of Portsmouth during lockdown to absorb the blueprints of ‘90s techno, Ian emerged with a new phase of experimentation: techno-inspired and indebted, yet eschewing loops and grids for a loose-limbed, open minded engagement of the form.

Taking inspiration from the iconic carnival rides that are inseparable from their high-octane happy hardcore soundtrack, “One For The Waltzers” begins with a distant rumble of muffled breakbeats that inch ever closer. But rather than dizzying lights and in-the-red maximalism, “One For The Waltzers” gradually reveals its knowingly deep shimmy and groove. It is a drum-heavy and rhythmic production, masterfully using negative space to showcase every contour of its slowed-down rave horns and acid house synth lines.

“KE01” inhabits the flipside of the same sonic world “One For The Waltzers”. Here, feverish percussive energy contrasts against pensive melodic synth chords. It’s a heady warehouse affair, familiar and complex, referential yet contemporary, and only adds to the momentum that Ian DPM is gathering.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

=

Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

=

Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

=

Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

=

"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

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Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.

 Lucrecia Dalt’s debut film score to ‘The Seed’, a sci-fi horror
film directed by Sam Walker on Shudder.
 Pressed on black vinyl and housed in a deluxe spined sleeve
with printed insert with digital download card included.
 “The score is heavily based on pulses that I made from tape
loops from my Copicat tape delay, using various pieces of
metal to create the sound of the horror parts by bowing them
alongside digital synths and the Korg Monologue.” - Lucrecia
Dalt
 “I wanted to play with the feeling of multiple paces in it, a
voice pulse that keeps us grounded in the subjectivities of
the women who are losing their sanity, a synth line that
places us in the sci-fi side of the film,” she explains.
 ‘The Seed’’s release follows the Colombian artist’s
collaboration with Aaron Dilloway, Lucy & Aaron, her
acclaimed 2020 album ‘No era sólida’ (RVNG Intl), a site
specific performance for the Mies van der Rohe Pavilion in
Barcelona, plus sound installations for CTM Festival and
Medellín’s Museum of Modern Art. Often seeking inspiration
in the worlds of fiction, poetry, geology and desire,
excavating nuanced references to untangle and respond to
in her music, Dalt’s debut score is incredible stand-alone
piece of work.
 In ‘The Seed’, lifelong friends Deidre (Lucy Martin / Vikings),
Heather (Sophie Vavasseur / Resident Evil: Apocalypse) and
Charlotte (Chelsea Edge / I Hate Suzie) travel to the Mojave
Desert for some time away, with the upcoming meteor
shower as the perfect social media backdrop. But what starts
out as a girls’ getaway descends into a battle for survival with
the arrival of an invasive alien force whose air of mystery
soon proves to be alluring and irresistible to them.

The Covid Pandemic hit Germany in March 2020 and by the 15th of March all of the public life was shut down. It was the same day where my son Rio was born.
For me, this early stage of the pandemic had something very intimate and private, since I was forced to stay at home with my young family for weeks. In Mai 2020 I started to leave the house, for other occasions then just going to the shop or taking a walk and that was the time I started working on “Hotel Solaris”. It was an intense creative rush: in 8 weeks the album was written, performed and produced in one flow. I had two days every week, where I could go to the studio for 4 hours and that time the album was done. It had a corpus in a sense that I
knew I wanted a faster or a slower track at points, but the whole hotel idea came when I saw photos of the old Hotel Arkada on the Croatian island Hvar, that my extremely talented friend Marcella Zanki shot on her holidays.
They show a well preserved socialist-brutalist hotel architecture in the middle of the beautiful Adriatic and for me it was like looking at pictures from a timeless place, without knowing where and when it exactly was, totally surreal.
I liked that idea of a hote that stands as an escape symbol from the real world, which was something everyone needed when the pandemic was building stronger and stronger. I decided to call it Hotel Solaris, inspired by the novel from Stanislav Lem, where Solaris is a planet covered by an ocean which triggers our subconscious mind to
become reality. It all fit at the end and “Hotel Solaris” was done.

This, one of the greatest radio shows ever made onto a record as it combines a Radio interview with Roky Erickson in full gloom while he is presenting the demos of tracks that may ended up on the great great The Evil One LP Earlier versions of mine mine mind, two headed dog, and click your fingers applauding the play previously released on vinyl by France's Sponge Records in 1976.. The bonuses (interviews, demos, rarities) are dandy, but the album is treasure enough. Its retro-metal chops have more kaboom than the irony-diluted pap of current poseurs, and its bent lyrics mop the floor with wannabe-kooks like Jad Fair. Some savvy touches- such as Roky's progressive pre-PC designation that the swamp monsters are 'alligator-persons'- hint that Roky was more lucid than he let on.