Suche:strange ways

The capstone of Miles Davis’ electric period, Agharta reigns as a funk-rock fireball — a blazing comet streaked energy and elan, a fearless organism feasting on adventure and freedom, a seven-headed Godzilla stomping its way through Osaka, Japan. Recorded on February 1, 1975 at Osaka Festival Hall at the first of a two-show stand, the double album offers an endless abundance of surprises and shifts — as well as a road-proven ensemble whose chemistry and abilities equal that of any of Davis’ celebrated bands. If the true measure of jazz is the capacity to adapt to the moment and challenge perception, Agharta is consummate.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 33RPM 2LP set of this epic live release presents it in audiophile sound on a domestic pressing for the first time. Offering greater degrees of separation, detail, and richness than the compressed CD editions and more clarity, openness, and presence than older vinyl copies, this version of the 1975 release helps bring the concert stage to your home. Just make sure your turntable and speakers are up to the challenge of Davis and Co.’s explosive performances — and producing the decibels they demand.

Teeming with vibrant colors, tones, and pace, Mobile Fidelity’s reissue captures the hear-it-to-believe-it flow, sweep, and moodiness of the music. Though the group honors looseness and freedom with religious verve, the specificity and scale rendered by this remaster allows you to detect methods behind the alleged madness that are often otherwise harder to discern. This insight extends to the understated changes in volume, harmonics, and phrasings. In many ways, you can listen as Davis himself did that early February evening as he helped coordinate the overall direction and decided on whether to blow his wah-wah-wired trumpet or take a turn on the organ.

Tellingly, Agharta would likely never have been made if not for Davis’ ventures overseas and, specifically, to the Land of the Rising Sun. Having for years faced a backlash on his native soil for his choices to experiment and blow past all known borders, Davis was welcomed with open arms in Japan. The concert documented on Agharta — as well as the day’s later show, captured on the equally exciting Pangea — stemmed from a sold-out three-week tour that would ultimately mark Davis’ final public appearances for years, as he soon settled into semi-retirement and nursed the wounds connected to an unprecedented stretch of restless and relentless output.

For all the band-fueled merit of Agharta — and there’s plenty, given the cast of saxophonist Sonny Fortune, bassist Michael Henderson, drummer Al Foster, percussionist James Mtume, and guitarists Reggie Lucas and Pete Cosey seemingly blasts off to outer space and travels distant galaxies by the time this minimally edited record runs its course — Davis’ own playing often remains overlooked. As critics Richard Cook and Brian Morton observed, it is “often fantastically subtle, creating surges and ebbs in a harmonically static line, allowing him to build huge melismatic variations on a single note.” He attacks like a man on a mission, out to prove naysayers wrong and bent on trailblazing another new path forward. Convention and skeptics be damned.

Noisy and furious, dark and discordant, abstract and off-balance, radical and intense, abrasive and atmospheric, strangely beautiful and hypnotically eccentric: Agharta evades simple description, and refuses to be pinned down in any established category — rock, jazz, punk, ambient, prog, avante-garde, or otherwise. Shot through with trench-deep grooves, screaming riffs, scalding solos, and free-improv leads, its cosmic thrust comes on as the equivalent of an animated pointillist painting comprised of millions of textured dots, dashes, and dabs that hold your attention so raptly you want to revisit the ideas again and again.

Always steps ahead of everyone else, Davis knew what he was doing even when Agharta debuted in Japan before later hitting U.S. markets. Though “Maiysha” and “Theme from Jack Johnson” are identified in the track listing, the record contains a number of uncredited references to other Davis works, including a nod to “So What.” This decision to bypass labels only adds to the art of the reveal — the rare black magic in which Agharta expertly deals.

Hercules & Love Affair music has always been about folding past, present and future together – and never more so than in the latest phase, encapsulated by the track that launches things, “Someone Else is Calling.”

If the song-first, ultra-gothic mind-movie of the last H&LA album In Amber was partly motivated by Andy Butler falling out of love with dance culture, this new body of work – an EP titled Someone Else Is Calling – is an unabashed resurgence of the love affair. A co-production with London underground veteran and inspiration to Butler, Quinn Whalley of Paranoid London and Decius, the lead single is a surging, tactile acid track woven around the vocal of Icelandic icon Hips & Lips aka Elín Ey – who hits that new wave disco sweet spot between Grace Jones and Yazoo era Alison Moyet.

Elín’s lyrics work perfectly with the bodily momentum of the sounds, circling around themes of self-possession and the urge to move on to the next experience, the next sensation: hunger for reality. And this taps into Andy’s feelings on escaping New York and moving to Belgium, discovering that dance culture was anything but the hollowed-out, identikit-festival-lineup conveyor belt he’d feared, and still had plenty of outposts where it was still – as he’d first experience it as a teen – about the hot, sweaty reality of diverse people seeking communion, communication and heightened ways of being in the here and now.

The video, filmed by Tatsumi Milori couldn’t be a better expression of exactly this. A love letter to the strange and glorious party scene of Mexico City, it captures people who are both tapping into the eternal verities of those magical dancefloor communions, and thrilling – against all the odds of oppressive forces – at the sense of possibility in the flow of gender and sexuality in the present moment. It’s powered by innocence and experience as intertwined forces, and it amplifies the heartbeat of the song a thousandfold. There will be more, much more, to follow from the partnership of Andy, Elín and Quinn. It digs deeper still into the decades of dance and other underground cultures that feed into this modern moment – but this shining beacon should give you a pretty good hint.

Someone Else Is Calling will arrive on one of Los Angeles’s most exciting new independent labels and creative hubs, StrataSonic, on December 14. The lead single of the same name, along with the music video directed by Tatsumi Milori, is out now. This marks the first collaboration between Hercules & Love Affair and Stratasonic.

No Speakers scores a major coup here by signing a Detroit legend from Underground Resistance's Galaxy 2 Galaxy. This guy's shared stages with figureheads like Jeff Mills, Carl Craig and Goldie so his creds cannot be questioned. His signature fusion of jazz and electronic fire burns bright here with A-side bangers 'Layers to This' and 'Bridgehouse' primed for future classic status as well as peak-time destruction. Flip it for South London's L.A. Synthesis remix. No stranger to dropping their own iconic techno, their take twists and turns into otherworldly soundscapes. Label boss El Prevost closes the EP with a savage twist of 'Bridgehouse' that is dark and twisted in all the right ways.

DJ Feedback

Kai Alce:
"Bridgehouse is just that, a bridge to the future."

Chris Udoh:
"Bridgehouse is an exceptional cut! "

Kosh:
"Nice release."

D'Julz:
"Best EP I heard in a long time. Lovely."

Radio Slave:
"So good to see La Synthesis here !!! and another great EP. from Jon. Full support."

ICYKOF:
"This is really fun. Love the first track."

Barbara Preisinger:
"The original tracks are sounding great to me and will go into the box. Thanks a lot!"

Orlando Voorn:
"Dopeness, all killer no filler."

Okain:
"Classy stuff."

Cristi Cons:
"Very nice, thanks."

Ryan Crosson:
"El Prevost remix is great, also enjoying the la synthesis remix."

Harri:
"Nice, will play and support."

Domenic Cappello:
"Jon is Detroit royalty, love this."

DJ Hutch:
"Love this release. Bridgehouse remix is crazy."

Harvey Sutherland:
"Bridgehouse is hot, thanks!"

Colin Dale:
"Excellent EP. All the cuts rock."

Greg Gow:
"Nice soulful tracks full support."

Laurent Garnier:
"Cool deepness."

Aleqs Notal:
"Jon Dixon, always on fire!!!"

Man Power:
"Layers to this is great."

DJ Bone:
"Smooth and funky release. Very nice."

Slip is Paul Abbott’s response to his 3 day residency at OTO in 2023. It’s a continued exploration of the acoustic-digital hybrid drum setup Abbott has been developing for some time, which involves drum kit and synthetic sounds combined closely—through an entanglement of limbs and cables—in an intimate but strange relationship with each other.

Paul Abbott hasn’t had any formal musical training, but has a long history of making music, having collaborated for years with Seymour Wright, Pat Thomas, Michael Speers, Cara Tolmie, Anne Gillis and many others. Eventually, led by a profound suspicion of what is fixed or limited, Abbott began finding other ways to organise sound - or what he calls ‘material’:

“I wanted a way to 'persuade' or guide the possibility of something happening - my activity or the events of an algorithmic composition - for example, but without certainty or formalism. It felt to me, during playing, that certain ideas had a particular sort of shape, but more than the form of a line. I began to write alongside (before/after) playing the drums, and ‘characters’ began to enter the scene as a more wobbly, and therefore appropriate option to notation. Working with these characters allowed me to simultaneously approach body, imagination, language and music: without dividing things up or separating these aspects from each other. It allowed me to leave things messy and entangled, whilst trying to deal with form and specificity: wanting to have some things feel or respond differently to other things at other times.”

In approaching his residency, Abbott developed a fixed cast of characters - crystal, lleaf, reiy.F, reiy.C, strike, nee, qosel, sphu and aahn. They each communicate using different kinds of movement and drum kit/s, and Abbott choreographed them as ‘dances’ based on different feelings, or outlines of behaviours suggestive of ways of moving (body, drums, sounds). He then arranged these characters into ‘compositions’: one for each performance day, with each composition featuring multi-layered activity - options for behaviours, ways to move around the rooms, play drums, develop synthetic sounds, change the lights or re-distribute the sound in the space.

After the performances, Abbott took home 9 hours of recordings split into up to 28 multitrack channels for each day, and re-organised his cast once more into a performance for 2LP, CD and digital. It’s an enormous amount of work - but Abbott is activated by the process. For him, the pleasure of unstable edges, possibilities, slippages, is the vital attraction. Like all living organisms, Abbott’s characters have malleability and responsivity. They stimulate a bundle of possible behaviours, a tendency to act a certain way, a temperament, a boundary of respective limits or affordances.

It’s an affective way of working, inclusive of Roscoe Mitchell, Sun Ra, Nathaniel Mackey and Milford Graves. In ‘Pulseology’(2022), Milford Graves reminds us, ‘Breath varies, so cardiac rhythm never has that (metronomic) tempo. It’s always changing. All the alignments of the heart are determined based on the needs of the cells, specifically tissues and organs. The heart knows if it needs to speed up.’ In Slip, to slip, in a heartbeat, is to descend not into the grid of the even metre accorded to the heartbeat, but into a play of mutability and modality. To change is the condition of the heart.

2025 Repress

DJ Koze exists both above and beyond club culture as we know it - his albums and remixes flying free from genre and trend - and symbiotically woven into its heart. Yes, he always abstracts and weirds out the principles of house, techno, hip hop, pop, psychedelia, exotica and so forth, but he does that because he understands them. And when it comes to club-demolishing tracks, he understands those principles as well as just about anybody on earth. Thus he could create an enduring club tune like 2015's 'XTC' that is strange, contemplative, even disturbing, bore little relation to anything around at the time, yet still got bodies moving and sweating better than way more obvious techno bangers. And thus the Knock Knock album, which melts a million genres and none into one another, can comfortably include 'Seeing Aliens". 'Seeing Aliens' unquestionably is a banger, its bass riff snaking around your body like a python, its high-drama strings, pianos and outbursts of noise designed for maximum crowd pressure release. But, again, it sounds like nothing else, and its dynamics and twists unfold over eight and a half minutes in ways that will mess with your head every time no matter how many times you hear it. The exclusive b-side track, 'Nein König Nein' ("No King No"!), meanwhile, is slightly gentler on the face of it: it's less about sonic pressure, more about hip-shaking syncopation. But it too tells strange fairytales in its peculiar and brain-tweaking accumulation of detail, and though you'll hear archetypal sounds from the heart of house and disco in it, every last one of them becomes new and otherworldly.

E23 Records is an independent label from Amersfoort that releases music moving between electro, wave, EBM, and acid—sounds that feel familiar, but not quite at ease. Each release is built with care, made to be both an object to collect and a small joke at the universe’s expense. Patterns appear where they want to, chance plays its role, and sometimes the numbers line up in ways that feel more than coincidental. Tune in, and see what reveals itself.

E23 Records launches its catalog with three dark electro transmissions from Amersfoort residents Son of 8-Bits, Mavanov, and Law Of Fives. Opening with Son of 8-Bits’ “Deliverance”, the record sets an ominous tone: heavy bass pressure and sharp machine rhythms push forward with a cold, driving pulse built for late hours. Mavanov’s “Dark Romanticism” drifts into sparse, hypnotic territory, where cold mechanics meet faint traces of emotion. Law of Fives’ “Primer” closes the trip with an urgent workout that turns rhythm into a labyrinth—metallic strikes, pulsing bass, and restless sequences coiling together, building toward moments where chaos threatens to take over but never quite does.

Together, the three cuts form a statement of intent: E001 is moody, uncompromising electro with just enough strangeness to keep the floor on edge. A first chapter that hints at many more signals to come.

Wounds is the band's long-awaited fifth album - their first in six years, their most eclectic and ambitious work to date. As heavy as it is haunting, the record masterfully blends doom, post-punk, and driving krautrock in a dynamic, hypnotic maelstrom - pushing London's most exciting cult band into intoxicating new territory. "Wounds is a series of songs about the different ways people live with and process 'the wounds' of their lives," explains vocalist Maya. "A strange celebration of that formative pain we have all experienced in some way. The loss and joy of survival - the celebration of finding others like us, the gift of knowing life comes after fire." Wounds was recorded by Mike Bew, on location at Foel Studio. The band could be found working deep into the witching hours, experimenting with new sounds and filling the valleys with cantankerous wails of sound, bursting from amps borrowed from My Bloody Valentine. "The Welsh countryside has a mystical quality to it," says guitarist Adam. "We recorded in a deep, dark valley; misty days and shooting stars at night. You could wander through nearby woods and stone circles during breaks. Foel Studios is woven into this setting with a transcendence of its own - its storied history includes sessions by Electric Wizard, Hawkwind and The Fall." Synths on the album are arranged by Berlin-based Bow Church, an influential figure in the dark electronic scene and a longtime collaborator of the band. His work weaves icy and atmospheric textures into the album's tracks. While meticulously crafted, Wounds captures the visceral energy of Cold in Berlin's renowned live shows. The album's arrangements and raucous sound remain true to the unrelenting intensity and atmosphere of their stage performances - every track retains the sweat, urgency, and immediacy of a band performing in the moment.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

PRAED return to Discrepant, after their 2017’s entry Fabrication of Silver Dreams (CREP44)

Known for their signature blend of Egyptian Shaabi, free jazz and improvisation, the Lebanese duo behind PRAED - Raed Yassin and Paed Conca - now assemble a full orchestra for the second time taking the music to a deeper, rooted level.

Following their 2020 release Live in Sharjah, also under the PRAED Orchestra! moniker, the duo now revisit their unique blend of Arabic heritage and free jazz sensibilities with an album that keeps pushing further into strange and unexpected directions.

The Dictionary of Lost Meanings is just that, seven fully composed pieces and large-scale improvisations, performed by an expanded ensemble of musicians from across the globe. The result is dense and playful, unpredictable but familiar, a record where Arabic rhythms and microtonal melodies collide playfully against electronics, warped vocals and orchestral textures.

It’s less about genre than about memory — like tuning into a radio station broadcasting from somewhere between the past and the future.

PRAED continue to blur the line between popular culture and experimental music in ways that feel both grounded and completely their own.

PRAED ORCHESTRA! are
Raed Yassin: Synthesisers, Vocals, Beats
Paed Conca: Clarinet, Electric bass
Alan Bishop: Alto saxophone, Electric bass, Vocals
Andreas Bral: Harmonium, Electronics
Elisabeth Klinck: Violin
Christian Kobi: Soprano and Tenor Saxophones
Hans Koch: Bass Clarinet
Martin Küchen: Alto and Sopranino Saxophones
Maurice Louca: Synthesizer, electronics
Stan Maris: Accordion
Radwan Ghazi Moumneh: Buzuk, Vocals, Modular Synth
Youmna Saba: Electric Oud, Vocals
Sam Shalabi: Oud, Electric Guitar
Els Vandeweyer: Vibraphone
Khaled Yassine: Drums, Percussion
Michael Zerang: Drums, Percussion
Recorded by Jasper Jan Peeters at the Summer Bummer Festival, DE Studio,
Antwerp August 26, 2022
Mixed by Adham Zidan
Mastered by Mark Gergis
Produced by PRAED
Photos by Geert Vandepoele

If you're a serious music fan but not a native Kiwi, your first awareness of New Zealand's fab music scene may have come from the debut of The Chills' mesmerising Kaleidoscope World collection of early singles. Within a few years, a great number of NZ acts saw music released by various UK and US labels . . . generally to great praise and enthusiasm. That this occurred without any of these acts having to move abroad to further their chances was nearly as delightful a feat as the music itself. The exception to this was Dead Famous People, radical in a snap decision after a five-song 12" for Flying Nun, Lost Persons Area, to change hemispheres and make a go for it in London. It started well. Three London recordings were added to three from their Flying Nun EP and put out by Billy Bragg's Utility label - about as perfect a mini-album as there's ever been. Response was positive, more songs recorded, the group did a John Peel session and played out often, but the vaguely impoverished group began to fall apart. Singer and primary writer Dons Savage - determined to make it - had a near-miss at becoming Saint Etienne's singer on an early take of their 'Kiss And Make Up' cover, and there was a fine performance from her on The Chills' 'Heavenly Pop Hit' . . . but dismay had set in. Upon learning of her mum's passing back home, Dons returned to NZ and was quiet for decades. Most of their London recordings were later released later in minuscule quantities by very small labels, but these saw scant press or attention and enjoyed next-to-no sales. Their moment had passed, and the band has suffered the strange fate of being the least-known of the truly brilliant acts associated with Flying Nun. Listening to these `lost' songs, it seems unfathomable that they could have fallen by the wayside. No NZ songwriter comes as close to equalling Martin Phillipps' pop brilliance as Dons. Her superbly sweet vocals, delicious harmonies and sophisticated arrangements aside, the songs dealt perceptively with universal follies of youth and yearning in tandem with a then-unusual twist of lyrics dealing matter-of-factly with her sexuality at a time when `women's music' was seen as exclusionary (segregated into its own bin in shops, if it existed there at all), and the riot grrrl movement was years away, later breaking through due to its radical stance. Dons is a pioneer in myriad ways, the irony of her transcendent brilliance failing to propel a greater career may rest in the fact that she leapt to the head of the class too quickly for people to grasp it; a fate that's befallen so many musical geniuses acknowledged today but less in their time - something rather tragically acknowledged in old pal Martin Phillipps' song with The Chills, 'A Song For Randy Newman, Etc.' None of these thirteen songs fails to deliver something both immediate and unique. And we're proud to debut 'Vampirella"', a magical fantasy song of longing and intrigue - surely one of the most perfect tunes to ever sit around unreleased for decades! Dons is again busy conjuring new songs; in the meantime we're delighted to unveil these obscure gems from the past.

Pickle Darling has always existed just outside of the periphery. In a heightened time of fast music, algorithmic consumption and rapid virality, Lukas Mayo (they/them) has remained focused on the album. Their discography is a reflection of their creative evolution, and they deliberately look for ways to push sonic boundaries from release to release. Since debuting with Bigness in 2019 followed by Cosmonaut in 2021, Mayo has curated a catalog that is deeply personal and strangely tactile, where tiny, unexpected details_an off-kilter loop, a whispered aside, the warmth of an old Casio_become as crucial as melody itself. Their 2023 LP Laundromat was a precise and polished expansion of that world, a record that felt like it had been carefully placed behind glass. Their forthcoming fourth album, Battlebots, by contrast, is unruly and full of static: a collection of songs that feel like they could only ever exist on scratched CD-Rs passed between friends. Self-recorded in their home studio in Christchurch, New Zealand, it finds Mayo taking a scalpel to their own songwriting. Songs were stretched, chopped, reversed. Some ideas started as "unlistenable garbage" before morphing into something unexpectedly beautiful. If a song felt too straightforward, Mayo had to mess it up. That friction of old and new, organic and digital, melody and noise is what drives Battlebots. Drawing inspiration from a strange, scattered lineage: Four Tet's Rounds, The Books, Neneh Cherry's Broken Politics, The Wrens' Three types of reading ambiguity, but also the emotional directness of 2000s pop like Madonna's Ray of Light and Robyn's Body Talk, the result is an album that feels like a glitch in the system, pushing against past constraints while embracing the weird, beautiful mess of making something new.

Santana Bridges the Divide Between Live and Studio Material on Moonflower: 1977 Double Album Features Extraordinary Performances, Soulful Vibes, and Dynamic Mix of Latin, Rock, Funk, and Blues
Sourced from the Original Master Tapes and Strictly Limited to 3,000 Numbered Copies: Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP Set Plays with Audiophile-Quality Detail, Balance, and Imaging
1/4” / 15 IPS original analogue non-Dolby master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe



Though it may seem strange now, Moonflower stood for nearly 15 years as Santana’s first and only live record released in the United States. This despite the fact that roughly half of the double album consists of new studio songs, including a zesty cover of the Zombies classic “She’s Not There” that reached the Top 30 of the singles charts.

However unconventional, the “split” strategy went over like gangbusters. Moonflower reached the Top 10 of the Billboard Top 200 and achieved double-platinum status — feats the group would not again replicate for 22 years. These, and the beautiful quality of the program itself, are among the reasons why the 1977 effort remains viewed by critics and fans alike as must-have Santana.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity’s 180g 33RPM 2LP set of Moonflower presents the record in audiophile sound for the first time on a domestic reissue. Part of the MoFi’s Santana catalog restoration series, this collectible version features quiet surfaces and black backgrounds that expose the critical details, liquid tones, and dynamic interplay central to Santana’s music.

The enhanced sonics extend not only to Carlos Santana’s six-string wizardry, but to the rhythmic, melodic, and vocal elements that course throughout both the studio and live cuts on Moonflower. The grip and depth of the bass lines; the wash of the organ; the scope and carry of the vocals; the extension and weight of the low-end frequencies; the rich textures of the guitars, percussive devices, and keyboards: all appear amid wide, balanced soundstages and image with right-sized dimensionality.

Significantly rooted in the styles and approaches that inform the group’s first three records, Moonflower captures the final appearances of iconic percussionist Jose “Chepito” Areas and go-to keyboardist Tom Coster on a Santana album. As he did during the preceding five-year stretch, Coster inhabits a large role here, sharing songwriting credits on a majority of the new cuts and helping steer the arrangements toward spiritually minded albeit concise directions that encompass vibrant Latin, rock, and blues themes that began to escape the ensemble shortly after his departure.

Close your eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on the R&B-kissed “I’ll Be Waiting,” anchored by Carlos Santana’s gliding fretwork and Greg Walker’s creamy vocals. Enter the cosmic universe of “Zulu,” on which Coster’s nimble phrasing opens the gate to polyrhythmic beats, knotty grooves, and interlocking funk. Grab the album cover and drift off to paradise amid the equally evocative “Flor d’Luna (Moonflower),” a romantic slow dance that Carlos Santana ensures tiptoes en route to its blissful destination. Channeling a different spirit animal, the guitarist later lets loose on the hard-hitting “El Morocco,” on which he seemingly engages in a shootout with himself and wades into the rippling psychedelia that elevated the band’s early material.

Speaking of the past, Moonflower triumphs on that level as well. In more ways than one, the live selections — and the caliber of the performances — chosen for inclusion represent an abbreviated greatest-hits survey of the band up to that point. And, at the very least, a convincing argument about why Santana had progressed into one of the most formidable bands you could hope to see on a stage in the mid ‘70s.

Simultaneously representative and illustrative of the group’s breadth, tracks stem from the collective’s eponymous debut, Abraxas, and Santana III as well as the then-more recent Amigos and Festival. Whether you fall for the sidewinding spell of a spicy rendition of “Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen,” lose your head to the positively epic momentum of “Soul Sacrifice/Head, Hands & Feet,” or keep dropping the needle on the savory grace of the brilliant reading of “Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile),” this pressing of Moonflower puts you — and Santana’s first-chapter legacy — in good hands.

2025 Repress

The Godfather of Hardcore, Marc Acardipane, needs no introduction. His outstanding releases over the past 30 years speak for themselves. He has been instrumental in helping to electronic music history, with countless well-known productions which have been unsurpassed by any other artist of this calibre.

His timeless masterpieces have been and always will be heard at hardcore raves spanning the circumference of the Planet. With 9 Is A Classic, Slaves To The Rave, Pitch-Hiker, Stereo Murder and We Have Arrived, just to name a few, he clearly proves who's the boss. "The Most Famous Unknown" is a well compiled collection of Marc's music, which showcases a mere portion of what he has composed and produced since the early nineties!

The vinyl and digital selection of "The Most Famous Unknown" features remixes by Body Sushi a.k.a. VTSS & Randomer, Dasha Rush, Gabber Eleganza feat. Delirio, Jasss, Kilbourne, Minimum Syndicat, Nina Kraviz, Perc, Solid Blake, Stranger, Umwelt and VTSS, which all deliver excellent interpretations of tracks they have chosen to revamp.

All original tracks have been re-mastered to the highest possible standard of quality.

Wenn drei visionäre Köpfe der elektronischen Musik aufeinandertreffen, entsteht ein Sound, der Grenzen sprengt. Demise Of Love ist das Projekt von Daniel Avery, James Greenwoods Ghost Culture und Working Men’s Club – eine Kollaboration, die aus gegenseitiger Wertschätzung und dem Streben nach neuen Klängen entstanden ist. Demise Of Love verbindet rohe Energie mit klanglicher Präzision. Das Ergebnis ist eine Fusion aus industriellen Klanglandschaften, pulsierendem Acid-House und melancholischen Melodien. Ihre Musik fordert heraus, fesselt und bleibt haften. Die EP, abgemischt von Alan Moulder, bringt das Beste der drei Musiker zusammen: Synthesizer, die den Raum aufbrechen, intensive Refrains und eine Soundästhetik, die sich nicht einordnen lässt. „Strange Little Consequence“ wechselt spielerisch zwischen Acid-Groove und monumental anmutendem Rock-Refrain. „Carry The Blame“ fängt die Weite des Detroit-Techno ein, „Be A Man“ verbindet Industrial-Punk mit düsterer Melancholie, und „Like I Loved You“ hebt mit hymnischem Gesang in elektronische Höhen ab. Auch inhaltlich geht die EP tief: Texte über Entfremdung, Kontrollverlust und die Suche nach Verbindung verleihen der Musik zusätzliche Schwere. Zeilen wie „Dead peasants excite you / Rewards of the plight fall / Into your hands“ aus „Strange Little

Consequence“ oder „Your ways are antiquated / And I’m bored now“ aus „Be A Man“ spiegeln das Unbehagen unserer Zeit wider. „Demise Of Love“ ist keine bloße Zusammenarbeit, sondern eine Verschmelzung dreier einzigartiger Klangwelten zu etwas völlig Eigenem. Hier trifft Innovation auf Emotion – kompromisslos, intensiv und von zeitloser Eleganz.

Foxwarren, the Canadian indie collective fronted by Andy Shauf, returns with their sophomore album "2." Joined by his fellow Canadian childhood friends and close collaborators Dallas Bryson (guitar), Darryl Kissick (bass), Avery Kissick (drums), and Colin Nealis (multi-instrumentalist), the eclectic sound of "2" - weaving genres ranging from folk to psych rock to downtempo - coincides with Shauf"s curiosity and desire to incorporate a Native Instruments Maschine MSK3 sampler into his process. There is something uncanny about the feeling of these songs, the way bits recorded in different rooms amplify your attention, listening for how these layers lock. But their true connective tissue is the generous and gentle ways Shauf and the rest of Foxwarren move with melody.

High Roller Records präsentieren zum 10. Jahrestag von Frank Blackfires erstem Soloalbum "Back on Fire" eine remasterte Neuauflage mit neuem Artwork und zum ersten Mal auch eine Vinyl-Edition. Frank Blackfire als lebende Legende zu bezeichnen ist keine Übertreibung. Sein bahnbrechendes Gitarrenspiel bei den frühen Sodom und Kreator war für die Entwicklung des deutschen Thrash-Metal-Sounds maßgeblich. Während er nach der Jahrtausende in Brasilien lebte, gründete er die Band Mystic und nahm mit ihr zwei Demos auf, die den Grundstein für ein vollständiges Album legten, das allerdings lange auf sich warten ließ. "Es war eine Menge harter Arbeit, bis wir es veröffentlichten", sagt Blackfire rückblickend, während er tatsächlich an einem zweiten Soloalbum arbeitet. Die zehn Tracks von "Back on Fire" - darunter eine thrashige Interpretation von Henry Mancinis ‚Peter Gunn'-Titelmelodie als Intro und ein Gastauftritt von Sodom-Frontmann Tom Angelripper - zeichnen sich durch Franks charakteristische Gitarre und raue Stimme aus. Mit seinen etlichen Killer-Riffs in herausragenden Stücken wie ‚Victims of Society', ‚Warmonger' und ‚Valley of Suiciders' bleibt die Platte ein ein zeitloses, aber vergessenes Thrash-Juwel, das es wert ist, (wieder-)entdeckt zu werden.

High Roller Records präsentieren zum 10. Jahrestag von Frank Blackfires erstem Soloalbum "Back on Fire" eine remasterte Neuauflage mit neuem Artwork und zum ersten Mal auch eine Vinyl-Edition. Frank Blackfire als lebende Legende zu bezeichnen ist keine Übertreibung. Sein bahnbrechendes Gitarrenspiel bei den frühen Sodom und Kreator war für die Entwicklung des deutschen Thrash-Metal-Sounds maßgeblich. Während er nach der Jahrtausende in Brasilien lebte, gründete er die Band Mystic und nahm mit ihr zwei Demos auf, die den Grundstein für ein vollständiges Album legten, das allerdings lange auf sich warten ließ. "Es war eine Menge harter Arbeit, bis wir es veröffentlichten", sagt Blackfire rückblickend, während er tatsächlich an einem zweiten Soloalbum arbeitet. Die zehn Tracks von "Back on Fire" - darunter eine thrashige Interpretation von Henry Mancinis ‚Peter Gunn'-Titelmelodie als Intro und ein Gastauftritt von Sodom-Frontmann Tom Angelripper - zeichnen sich durch Franks charakteristische Gitarre und raue Stimme aus. Mit seinen etlichen Killer-Riffs in herausragenden Stücken wie ‚Victims of Society', ‚Warmonger' und ‚Valley of Suiciders' bleibt die Platte ein ein zeitloses, aber vergessenes Thrash-Juwel, das es wert ist, (wieder-)entdeckt zu werden.

Oi Va Voi verbinden Dance-Grooves, Singer/Songwriter-Sensibilitäten und kosmopolitische Rhythmen aus Osteuropa und Nahost. Trotz (oder gerade wegen) der zerrissenen Zeiten strahlt ihr neues Album "The Water's Edge" Optimismus aus und weckt Erinnerungen an ihr bahnbrechendes Debüt "Laughter Through Tears" (BBC World Music Award, NYT Top 10 Alben 2003). Oi Va Voi sind bekannt für prominente Kollaborationen wie mit KT Tunstall, Bridgette Amofah (Rudimental) oder der Violinistin Anna Phoebe. "The Water's Edge" wurde zum Teil von Mike Spencer (Rudimental, Tom Walker, Ellie Goulding) produziert und erscheint auf dem eigenen Label Parallel Skies. Es ignoriert Kategorisierungen zugunsten dauerhafter musikalischer und sozialer Werte und ist ein Ausdruck der Notwendigkeit, Spaltungen hinter sich zu lassen und eine gemeinsame Menschlichkeit zu finden.

Oi Va Voi fuse dance grooves, singer-songwriter sensitivity and a rock’n’roll sensibility with the group’s Jewish cultural heritage and a cosmopolitan rhythmic inspiration drawn from Eastern Europe, the Middle East and beyond. Despite the fractured times we are living in, a theme of optimism through pain is there throughout Oi Va Voi’s new album ‘The Waters Edge’.

We’re reminded of the title of the breakthrough first album, Laughter Through Tears. The Bacon & Quarmby-produced debut won a BBC World Music Award, was listed as a New York Times Top Ten Album Of The Year, and launched the career of a young KT Tunstall. The tradition of world-class musicianship continued with Bridgette Amofah (Rudimental) as the featured vocalist on Travelling the Face of The Globe, and noted violinist Anna Phoebe, who recorded and performed with the band for over a decade.

Every member evolves the Oi Va Voi sound; but through each change, the core themes and vision have remained constant. 2018’s album, Memory Drop, introduced the unique voice of Zohara Niddam, and it’s Zohara who returns here on The Water’s Edge, featuring on ‘Shine A Light’, ‘Lay Your Head’ and ‘Wave’. Also featuring across the new album is composer, violinist and singer Sarah Anderson, who co-wrote seven tracks on the album, with her emotionally poignant lyrics, evocative layered vocals and uplifting violin parts. Guitarist John Matts and Trumpeter David Orchant also return, with Orchant bringing deep colour and expression to the stirring waltz ‘Oceans’.

The album opener ‘Sad Dance’ was written after the devastating earthquake that struck Turkey and Syria in early 2023 impacting many of the band’s friends, fans and colleagues. Finding themselves in the studio the day after the tragedy, the band searched for ways to respond. Sarah’’s mournful, pulsating violins create an ever evolving soundscape on top of which her own vocal, and Steve’s earthy clarinet express sorrow and hope. Says Sarah - “It’s about human connection - a metaphorical hand held through trauma, and the preservation of ‘old worlds’ through relics, reminding us of where we came from”.

‘Shine a Light’ was also a chance to welcome back producer Mike Spencer (Rudimental, Tom Walker, Ellie Goulding), who produced their second album. Here his Pop experience can be felt in the hooky dance loop, which you can hear becoming one of Oi Va Voi’s trademark live encores. Along with the melodic pop sheen of ‘Lay Your Head’, this song shows the band in an uplifting mood, pointing at the years of high-energy tours which have become their signature. These tracks, and the poignant ‘Josephine’, offer a release - a more escapist mood and a sign of the hope underneath everything.

Oi Va Voi have never been easy to categorise, and they’ve made a point of ignoring genre in favour of more enduring musical and social values. The Water’s Edge is the first album to be released on the band’s own Parallel Skies label, which will sign artists from a diversity of cultures, nations and musics in the coming years. The album title refers to an old custom from the Jewish New Year of going down to the waterside - casting off the baggage of the past, and letting it wash away on the tide. As the first release on this label it’s an expression of the need to put divisions behind us, and find a shared humanity.

Glasgow-based producer Conna Haraway returns to Theory Therapy with his first vinyl release, Spatial Fix. Inspired in part by his 2024 tour of Japan and Korea, the album explores new dimensions of his evolving sound.

Since Lusidiq – his debut on Theory Therapy – the co:clear owner has honed his ability to balance introspective atmospheres with crisp, meticulously crafted rhythms, imbuing his music with a physicality that’s as tactile as it is hypnotic.

Spatial Fix expands on this approach in every respect. The record oscillates between ambient abstraction and rhythmic intensity, seamlessly weaving the two together. Tracks like “Freon” and “1702” are anchored by a propulsive low end, woven through with Haraway’s crackling textures and field recordings – including those captured across Asia last year. Even in these deeply immersive moments, there’s always something luminous lurking beneath the surface – snaps, clicks, and micro-shudders ripple throughout in strange and surprising ways. The result is an album that pulls you into a writhing, disorienting space, a psychedelic sonic world where beauty and unease pulse in equal measure.

Spatial Fix is available as a limited edition run of 200 12-inch vinyl records.


Written & Produced by Conna Haraway
Mastered by Ike Zwanikken
Lacquer cut by Henry Rudkins
Artwork & Design by Conna Haraway & Gary Hunter

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Purple Tree Fog Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

As Jess Sylvester finished his Hardly Art debut as Marinero in the fall of 2020, he realized it was time for a change. Sylvester grew up in Marin County, on the doorstep of San Francisco. It was a nurturing community for a high-school punk with a pompadour and, later, for a sober songwriter with a proclivity for moody psychedelia. But he wanted to be challenged and inspired by a new setting and scenario around strangers who prompted him to approach his music in unexpected ways. So in September 2020, as the world continued to reel in lockdown, Sylvester headed several hours south to Los Angeles, a city that, despite the relative proximity, the film buff knew largely from classic and cult films situated there. When he arrived, he kept digging into that cinematic past-Robert Altman's The Long Goodbye, with John Williams' classic theme, or classic 90s movies about East LA, many featuring Edward James Olmos. They shaped his understanding of his new town just as it began to open. This is one pillar of the multivalent and endlessly lush La La La, Marinero's new album about sobriety, identity, and fantasy that is playfully named both for the city that helped shape it and the sophisticated pop it contains. Sylvester wrote about characters outside of himself, whether considering the heroine reckoning with her own version of keeping clean or the screenwriters whose work was deemed communist simply as a political convenience. He linked those songs with motivational anthems about self-acceptance and playful numbers about flirting through food, shaping a 12-song set rich with humor, empathy, and encouragement. Sure, La La La is a continuation of the slippery genre play Sylvester started with 2021's Hella Love, 2019's Trópico de Cáncer, or even before that. But it also feels like a fresh beginning for Marinero, as Sylvester realizes how boundless this project can be. He began to think about the music of his childhood, how his mother is from San Francisco with Mexican roots, and how he'd heard so much salsa growing up as an impetuous teenager. So he wrote "Taquero," a red-hot salsa tune that uses tacos and their trappings as a source of endless metaphors for come-ons. And then there was the Ray Barreto or Santana-inspired "Pocha Pachanga," with organ gliding and percussion pulsing beneath his yearning vocals, warped as if by desert winds. In Los Angeles, he found a wealth of players who spoke this music like language itself (including Chicano Batman's Eduardo Arenas), all ready to play with and push these familiar forms. Sylvester has also been sober for 21 years, since a cross-country sojourn to attend college in Boston ended in a chemical haze. Today, he sees friends facing the same decisions he made two decades ago, and he brings bits of that experience to bear in songs that feel like self-help anthems. Recorded with a musical hero (and labelmate) of his, Chris Cohen, "Sea Changes" feels like sunshine breaking through dark clouds, as Sylvester acknowledges the newfound confidence and clarity in a friend who has stepped away from destructive habits. In the past, Sylvester has been intractably linked to his identity as a Mexican-American, born to parents from Mexico and Irish- American descent who settled in San Francisco. That can be limiting, of course, tying him to notions of sound and style that aren't always correct. On La La La, he simultaneously steps into and out of those preconceptions, singing tracks above salsa in joyous Spanish or pondering the dynamics of the Hollywood Ten and blacklists above mysterious lap steel and teasing trumpet. His identity, then, should now be clear: He is a Californian, making music shaped by the diversity of encounters and experiences that are a central part of that state's fabric. Never before has he presented himself so fully and unabashedly on tape as with La La La, an album Sylvester built with new inspirations to deliver new charms.

One Million Eyes, previously known as Templehof, return with a new album of balearic ambient, previously heard on two excellent releases for A Strangely Isolated Place.

This time appearing on legendary cassette label Constellation Tatsu as part of their fall combo, anyone familiar with their previous work will know what to expect. Dreamy, sun hazed analog synth lines mix with deep fourth world soundscapes that wouldn’t sound out of place on 90s labels such as Pete Namlook’s Fax or Instinct Ambient. The first half of Signal begins slowly, eyes wide shut, with 'Nickel', a slow pulsating jam of chilled out psychedelia. 'Marea' blends organic instrumentation with distant, processed voices. ‘Koala’, the deepest cut on the album, leads to a mood shift in 'Opalescent' that will sound eerily familiar to any Gaussian Curve fans. 'Polaris', 'Solstice' and highlight 'Landscape' close out the album in style.

For fans of anyone from Music From Memory, Jonathan Fitoussi & Ishq, there are few better ways to relive your memories of later summer.

Over 19 tracks, Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music mines gold from dollar bin country-rock detritus to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's wild west - Americana's vast private press substructure. As progenitor and contemptuous poster boy for the music that came to be Cosmic American, Gram Parsons found himself mired in a recording career spent mostly in scouting the perimeters of chart success. "He hated country-rock," Parsons collaborator Emmylou Harris would later reflect. "He thought that bands like the Eagles were pretty much missing the point." Parsons had been orbiting the idea of Cosmic American Music for some time. In 1968 he'd parted ways with the Byrds and was looking to take air with a new project. "It's basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar" he told Melody Maker, on the subject of The Flying Burrito Brothers. So it was that when A&M's Burrito Brothers debut The Gilded Palace of Sin made it to shelves in February of 1969, early adherents to the Cosmic American gospel were already echoing its message from areas flanking Gram Parsons' Southern California hills and canyons. There was F.J. McMahon in coastal Santa Barbara, Mistress Mary further inland in Hacienda Heights, and Plain Jane of Albuquerque, New Mexico, each responding by committing their own private readings to tape before day one of the 1970s. Parsons himself might've disdained them, had he even been aware of such minor ripples, shimmering at the edges of his desert oasis. But these were true believers all the same, given over fully to his roots music concept, each filling vinyl grooves with non-rock instrumentation like fiddle, banjo, and pedal steel guitar, the last undoubtedly Cosmic American Music's most distinguishing stringed signifier. Only too predictably, big labels did the grunt work of confining and defining the movement, as ABC, United Artists, RCA, and more played catch-up with Asylum's raptor rock juggernaut, via backwoods crossover also-rans with names like Gladstone, American Flyer, and Silverado. Twang reigned, the shitkickers kicked shit, and the vaguely western-sounding guitar records piled up. Country-rock became "the dominant American rock style of the 1970s," as Peter Doggett's comprehensive Are You Ready for the Country put it much later. Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music picks up and dusts off golden ingots from the dollar-bin detritus of that domination, to reconstruct events as seen from the genre's real Wild West-America's one-off private press label substructure.

A few years ago, Angel Olsen quietly formed somethingscosmic, a new imprint and a home for Olsen to have “the flexibility to release when and how I want to with the help from my longtime partners at Jagjaguwar.” Somethingscosmic’s second release, ‘Cosmic Waves Volume 1’ is a compilation reimagined as a dialogue; side A features artists chosen by Olsen, with each artist choosing their own song for the collection. Side B is a collection of songs from the same artists, but chosen by Olsen and recorded by her. Each song, unsurprisingly, illuminates a new artist Olsen finds spectacular. Hearing Olsen refract the artists’ songs back to them reveals the depth of Olsen’s imagination, while spotlighting multiple exciting artists at work.

“As someone that emerged into the music scene through a small tape label,” says Olsen, “I’ve wanted to continue the spirit of discovery and of my debut release, ‘Strange Cacti’, while supporting and collaborating with artists and friends whose music I have been moved by. I feel there is something unique and special about covering another artist's song,” she continues. “We all make it our own, or we try to, but I personally always learn something new about the process when I’m engaging someone else’s words and melodies in such a close way. Time and again I find that putting myself into various different styles of songs can lead to new ways of thinking and creating.”

The artists on “Cosmic Waves Volume 1” draw from a sprawling, myriad sounds, eras and inspirations. Poppy Jean Crawford’s magnetic growl and guitar-god heaviness; Coffin Prick’s reckless, psychedelic fuzz; Sarah Grace White’s hypnotic voice and melody; Maxim Ludwig’s expert minimalism; and Camp Saint Helene’s beautiful, big sky folk. “Thank you for listening and supporting this experiment,” Olsen says. “If you like what you hear, please support these artists by buying some of their music, merch, a ticket to their show, or telling your friends about them. It goes a long way. Love, Angel”

Indian born, UK artist Michael Diamond, co-founder of Vasuki Sound label and club night, announces new EP Placid Wakefulness, featuring single ‘Reverse Entropy’. available on all platforms 5th December via Vasuki Sound.

A uniquely multifaceted talent, Michael Diamond’s unforgettable ‘jazzed electronic’ sound is informed by a spectrum of influences, not least by intersection of the scientific and practical worlds of electronic music. From the music scholarship he won to read Medicine at Oxford where he quickly discovered new ways in which the two worlds can co-exist, his days were spent immersed in academic studies of music perception and cognition, while his nights were spent alongside the likes of Ben UFO, Batu & Ross From Friends, playing at one of UK’s most long-established nights ‘Simple’. A chance encounter there also led him to connect with musical collaborator Alex Wilson – the BBC Young Jazz Musician of the Year semi-finalist and then musical director of Oxford’s Jazz Orchestra – who appears frequently across Diamond’s compositions and on Placid Wakefulness.

No stranger to a concept piece, Diamond’s previous project, the highly personal and critically acclaimed exploration of culture and identity, Third Culture (album of the month/year acknowledgments from Stamp The Wax, Juno and Phonica Records, also earning him a DJ Mag ‘One To Watch’, a Youth Music Awards ‘Rising Star’ nomination and a Gilles Peterson’s ‘Future Bubbler’ accolade) explored the experience of being a ‘third culture kid’ born in Kerala, India and growing up in the UK with a sense of fractured identity.

On Placid Wakefulness, Diamond honours his academic research working alongside world-renowned musicologist Professor Eric Clarke. Specifically how music may affect our sleepfulness and wakefulness, how instinctively we are soothed by some sounds and energised by others - ‘what it is about dance music that makes people go hard all night long?’ and ‘what is it about ambient music that makes people feel the opposite way - to lull them into this sense of calmness or rest?’, mindful of the unconscious ways his findings were already manifesting in his work as an artist. And while his research provides a framework for some of the ideas within the piece, Placid Wakefulness can be viewed as more of an unintentional byproduct, or case-in-point of his findings, rather than a piece consciously constructed in their image.

Across Placid Wakefulness’s four tracks we find the artist unpacking a range of sonic ideas on this theme, from ambient calm to club-adjacent rhythms. The EP opens with hypnotic lullaby of ‘A Way of Listening’ complete with transcendent flutes provided by Alex Wilson, cello by George Lloyd-Own and a mellow groove. On the more energised ‘Reverse Entropy’, rhythmic ambiguity moves to rhythmic disambiguation with a four-to-the-floor beat as the track progresses, releasing tension and inviting an urge to dance as a jazz sax moment transmutes into glorious techno percussiveness.

On ‘Turning and Turning’ the bpm shifts down a gear, a sonic dreamstate where tough textural rhythms create a kind of liminal state tension. Closing out the EP we return to a sense of restfulness with the EP’s title track, where a gorgeous picked guitar loop interplays with vibrating ambient pads and a slow and steady beat. The Placid Wakefulness EP is a captivating testament to Diamond’s singular artistic talent and the fascinating interplay of neuroscience and how we experience and enjoy music.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Who is Isabelle Lewis, anyway?

What kind of music does she make? Is she an opera singer? Does she write pop songs? Does she compose ethereal ambient soundscapes? Does she play chamber music on the violin? Is she producing dark, electronic beats?

Well… yes. But Isabelle Lewis is not so much a person as a project. Isabelle’s debut album, Greetings, credits a trio of composer–performers at its heart: producer Valgeir Sigurðsson, vocalist Benjamin Abel Meirhaeghe, and violinist Elisabeth Klinck. The sound of the elusive Isabelle Lewis is heard most clearly in the push and pull between them, the three-way tension that gives the album its musical and emotional drive.

Each of the three brings more to the collaboration than those epithets might imply. Elisabeth’s solo performance practice incorporates composition, improvisation, live electronics, and a close command of bowing and fingering techniques that make her fiddle sing, whisper or whistle as required. Benjamin is a self-taught countertenor - keening, crooning, and swelling to a voluptuous sensuality—but also an interdisciplinary stage director and performer. Well known for his work as a producer and studio collaborator, and as a composer of scores for film and stage, Valgeir’s solo discography interweaves meticulously crafted electronics, drones, noise, and other digital elements with acoustic instruments and vocals recorded with naked, unflinching clarity.

But the extravagant theatricality Benjamin brings to the aptly titled “Drama”—also featuring a heroic violin solo from Elisabeth—grapples against the thudding bass of the implacable digital backdrop. On “Mother, Shelter Me” Valgeir’s austere and detailed production throws the hushed violin and vocals into stark relief. The result is an exquisitely uncanny juxtaposition of past and present, human and mechanical, like a Rococo treasure viewed under cold fluorescent lights, or an 18th-century automaton slowly opening its clockwork eyes.

Even the lyrics seem somehow out of time. On “O Solitude,” Benjamin goes so far as to quote an entire song by the first great English opera composer, Henry Purcell, verbatim. No stranger to Purcell’s music, which has made its way into Benjamin’s theatrical productions as well, here Isabelle Lewis removes Purcell’s melodies and harmonies and sets the text, Katherine Phillips’s 17th century translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant, to new music whose heightened, archaic character nevertheless seems haunted by Baroque ghosts.

Throughout the album, the outsized emotions and timeless archetypes of Benjamin’s lyrics feel like relics from some half-forgotten past—from the neatly rhymed couplets of “Fisherman,” a seemingly straightforward (but still somewhat askew) character study, to the abstraction of “Moonshell,” whose words seem like the fragments of some ancient, lost lament. It is just another of many ways in which Isabelle Lewis carefully distorts the listener’s notions of time. On a more micro level, time can stop for a moment of weightless, drifting ambience, and then plunge forward as the cloud of harmonies suddenly lock into tempo with the drop of the bass or the change of a chord. Or else that weightless moment is allowed to be, as in the aptly named prologue and epilogue to these Greetings (“Voicemail”/“…and farewell”), or in the interstitial tracks that bind the album together, connecting its dramatic peaks with expanses of meditative stasis.

The album as a whole is elegantly shaped, swelling from an intimate, interpersonal statement into something deeper and more spacious. The first half of the album leans slightly towards self-contained pop songcraft and ticking beats, while side B jumps off from “O Solitude” into the almost symphonic grandeur of songs like “Moonshell” or the instrumental “Not the water, air, or the dirt.”

But as it progresses, the contrasts only grow more sublime: antique and postmodern, human and machinelike. The ominous weight of the droning sub-bass and trombone (guest player Helgi Hrafn Jónsson) only makes the interplay between vocals and violins (guest player Daniel Pioro joining Elisabeth) seem more delicate and vulnerable. The ethereal string tremolos of “Moonshell” seem to pull against the heavy, shuddering electronics and layers of crooning vocals.

And that, in short, is where you will find Isabelle Lewis. Like an ancient stone archway, or a delicate house of cards, the architecture of Greetings is held together by the tension between opposing forces. Not just in Elisabeth’s playing, Benjamin’s singing, or Valgeir’s arrangements and production but in the conflict and contrast that generates the synergy between them.

Oh—Isabelle says hi, by the way. She’s looking forward to meeting you.

Even as the obstacles to meaningful connection mount into an Everest-ian hurdle, artists nevertheless find ways to bend the technologies of our days to foster visceral human connection, rather than bereft isolation. Comprised of a West Coast bassist (Kristian Dunn of El Ten Eleven) and an Appalachia-adjacent drummer (Damon Che of Don Caballero), Yesness forges a friendship mediated through the language of collaboration, all formed through emailed song sketches and text exchanges of Van Halen demos. The odd couple of Kristian Dunn (El Ten Eleven) and Damon Che (Don Caballero) was the result of some clever musical matchmaking by Karl Hofstetter, founder and curator of Joyful Noise Recordings. Karl introduced Dunn and Che via email in April 2023 after Dunn's prolific output outgrew the resources and abilities of his instrumental duo El Ten Eleven. Less than a year later, after countless text messages and song sketches were exchanged, and one fateful meeting at a recording studio was organized, their nascent project's debut record, See You at the Solipsist Convention, was complete. "We were ships in the night of the musical variety until Karl found a way to merge our paths," Che said of his introduction to Dunn. "There are very few comparisons in the aesthetic approach to how we created the music. We worked remotely for eight months before physically meeting for the first time at the recording studio." Neck-deep in their own ambitions, Che and Dunn swapped musical ideas and quirky song titles throughout the summer, working at a breakneck pace. Star Wars references were intertwined with walloping bass lines ('If You Say So'); non-sequiturs were punctuated by Che's signature frenetic percussive jabs ('Horror Snuggle'). Scaffolded around eight-string bass, knotty percussion, and intricate syncopation, See You at the Solipsist Convention is a carnival of delights for fans of the post-everything persuasion—uncategorizable yet reverent to the altar of instrumental rock. Tearing through the record's evocative instrumentals is a delightful bolt of strangeness, felt as much as heard in the spontaneous chemistry between Che and Dunn. "Occasional Grape?" dances like a waltz played with a sledgehammer—delicate moments shattered by bursts of aggression, while still embedding a rhythmic earworm deep into your heart. 'Nice Walrus,' a string-studded panorama featuring Kishi Bashi, volleys between nervy hyperactivity and heartfelt grandeur. The album's closing track, "Non-incredible Visitor," contrasts Che's meticulous precision with Dunn's imaginative instrumentation, bonding bass and percussion like nesting dolls. Just as the track seems to settle, it drives off an uncharted auditory cliff—abruptly, without ceremony, leaving the listener grasping for meaning in the murk. Beyond all measure, Yesness stands as a testament to the powerful dividends of friendship and collaboration. We are nothing without each other – our partners, our local record store clerks, our neighbors. Music, too, thrives on our entanglements. With twelve tracks, an upcoming tour, and an unexpected friendship stemming from one email, Yesness underscores the brilliant machinery of human connection.

Speckled Dragon Egg Color Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Speckled Dragon Egg Color Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

It’s abundantly clear from the first bars of their 5th studio album Through Other Reflection, that this is, and could only ever be, The Soundcarriers. From the enchanting vocal duets of folk-bidden Chanteuses Leonore Wheatley and Dorian Conway; to the precise bass lines of Paul Isherwood and the limber, jazz-cool, Hal Blaine-esque drums of his his co-songwriter Adam Cann; from the fairy-like flutes, 60s-garage guitars and organ sounds pilfered from the archives of exotica - listening to the Soundcarriers resembles a rediscovery of all the most prized, esoteric corners of the 1960s, all bundled up, warped and refracted through the quartet’s astutely modern cultural lens. Channelling Tropicalia, Middle Eastern psychedelic Jazz/Funk, The French Library sounds of Nino Nardini, and a whole host of lavish obscurites beside, Through Other Reflection delivers another sonic adventure from one of the most unique and distinctive voices of British Psychedelia. After an 8 year wait for their album 4 - 2022’s Wilds - it thankfully didn’t take so long for the follow-up this time round. In many ways, this feels like a companion to Wilds; recording again at their Nottingham warehouse studio, Through Other Reflection retains that same organic glow, all the passions and imperfections of a tightly clipped unit jamming out these living, breathing pop-art nuggets as if straight onto the acetate.”We wanted to keep an air of spontaneity with this album and not get too bogged with the recording process”, explains Cann, “It was more a case of getting the songs as tightly written and arranged as possible first so we could get them down quickly in the studio. It always takes longer than you think” Less packed with strident pop hooks as its predecessor however, the music of Through… has been given extra licence to breathe, stretch out, and wander more uncharted terrains. While gleaming psych-pop of tracks like ‘The City Was’, or ‘Already Over’ confidently carry on from where they left off, from the album’s 2nd track ‘Always’, the trip becomes a little less predictable. Starting out as a smoky Procol Harum-meets-French-Psych organ ballad, the music drifts, as if of its own accord into an eerie, garage trance that lingers, cycles, and hypnotises, growing ever stranger, reaching ever-further away from its point of conception. And almost every track on Through Other Reflections holds that outer-body moment, where the band fix themselves on a limber, lysergic groove, lose all grip on time and reality, and melt themselves away into a liquid state of blind euphoria. There are sequences on this record that feel more like rituals than songs, built upon a single hypnotic rhythm which, like the centre of a vortex, pulling everything under its beatific command. Take the finale to ‘What We Found’ for instance, sounding like a ghostly march across the psychedelic moors, or ‘Feel The Way’, where a single athletic drum-loop rises and rises, growing ever more urgent and suspenseful underneath its frantic harpsichords and rasping flutes. Full of such rich stylisms as these, The Soundcarriers showcase themselves as abstract storytellers par excellence by virtue of their textures and arrangements alone. Resembling Romantic composer Maurice Ravel, but if he had just a four-piece rock band at his disposal, Through Other Reflects is rich with detail; there’s shakers, rattles, clarinets, booming drums; there’s synthesiser swarms, chiming xylophones, vintage organs and experimental Cluster & Eno-esque ambiences. Within all this nuance the music flows like some undisclosed narrative swathed in a magnetic secrecy. “It almost comes across like a story in some ways”, says Cann of the album, “the music is quite sectional with elements of exotica and cinematic type layers, it's a good balance of grooves, tunes and weirdness”. No more is this “epic cinematic feel” heard more proudly than on short instrumental ‘Sonya’s Lament” - its innate, hauntological atmospheres befitting a Peter Strickland soundtrack, or the classics of Lex Baxter, the so-called ‘Founder of Exotica’ himself. On the other hand, providing a greasier undercurrent to all these bucolic sounds is a leaning towards a more “direct” lyricism referencing more “external concerns. Laying down the first tracks for the album in the wintry gloom of pre-lockdown 2020, and drawing inspiration from time spent in Berlin, Through Other Reflections returns to some of the post-apocalyptic futurism explored in 2014’s Entropicalia - a loose concept album inspired by J.G Ballard’s The Drowned World. “The songs explore a disillusionment with the way things are going particularly after 40 years of neoliberalism”, says Cann, “They follow that folk-song tradition of wanting to escape to an imagined time, but here it’s more urban than pastoral. The first couple of ideas I came up with when doing some music in Berlin and had some time to wander aimlessly. And think the atmosphere seeped in, particularly on The City Was and Already Over. He continues, “One aspect of the title, ‘Through Other Reflections’ is about synthesis and layers of influence. How things can be filtered through other things and change the perspective. This is something you get in cities as well.” Though, as with everything The Soundcarriers make, “It can mean anything. It also just sounds kind of cool.”

Originally released in 1996 as a limited fan-club pressing for Rockathon, Guided By Voices’ Tonics And Twisted Chasers has always existed as an anomaly in Robert Pollard’s vast discography. In many ways, the album serves as the tail of a creative comet that in just two years included the “classic line-up” trilogy of Bee Thousand, Alien Lanes, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and countless singles that crammed endless hooks in their grooves. In the intervening space, Tonics And Twisted Chasers has taken on a mythic status. It’s arguably Pollard’s strangest, gnarliest, most enlightened record and also the fans first chance to see the stitches that bind his galaxy of songs. It’s like peering at the caliber inside a watch, responsible for making the whole enterprise tick. This nineteen-song collaboration with guitarist Tobin Sprout could be interpreted as spontaneous sketches, late-night improvisations, ideas that blossomed later in the timeline (“Knock ’Em Flyin’” and “Key Losers”), but as with anything in Pollard’s orbit, its intention is clear when heard as a cohesive whole. The Pollard tenet that “less is more” is on full display here. The songs rarely creep past ninety seconds and coalesce much like Pollard’s collage-styled visual art. Arena anthems in miniature (“158 Years Of Beautiful Sex”) bash up against eerie piano laments (“Universal Nurse Finger”) without any time to breathe, acoustic lullabies that sound like a Midwestern summer’s twilight (“Look It’s Baseball”) segue into monochromatic post-rock (“Maxwell Jump”). The euphoric joy and obtuse melancholy in Pollard’s voice is so palpable on the album’s standout, “Dayton, Ohio 19 Something & 5” (which has since become a live staple), that it’s impossible to find a more autobiographical yarn in his catalog. The album’s closest analog is 1993’s Vampire On Titus, as it contains that album’s prickly, dark and shimmering obfuscation that only reveals its beauty after repeated listens. Tonics And Twisted Chasers maintains the lore because the melodies are so strong. Using a primitive drum machine, Radio Shack effects, minimal instrumentation and the DIY spirit that guided them in the first place, Pollard and Sprout constructed a masterpiece of pop that could only come from a basement in north Dayton, Ohio. Anyone in that hallowed era who happened upon it, kept it as a secret.