Cerca:the bad kind

In Guadeloupe, many people think that jazz and ka music are like a ring and a finger. To some extent, the same could be said about so called Latin music and the music played in the French West Indies.

Both aesthetics were born in the Caribbean and bear so many connections that they can easily be considered cousins. In constant dialogue, there are lots of examples of their fruitful alliance and have been for a while. The English country dance that used to be practiced in European lounges came to be called kadrille in Martinique and contradanza in Cuba. They both featured additional percussion instruments inherited from the transatlantic deportation. Drawing from shared feelings about the same traumatized identity – later to be creolized – it would be hard not to assume that they were meant to inspire each other. The golden age of the orchestras that graced the Pigalle nights during the interwar period further proves the point. As soon as the 1930s, Havana-born Don Barreto naturally mixed danzón and biguine music in a combo based at Melody's Bar. In the following decade, Félix Valvert, a conductor who was born and raised in Basse-Terre in Guadelupe, also worked wonders in Montparnasse with La Coupole, which was an orchestra made up of eclectic musicians. Afro- Caribbean performers of various origins were often hired on rhythm and brass sections in jazz bands, which used to enliven the typical French balls of the capital. In the 1930s and onwards, Rico’s Creole Band was one of them.



Martinican violinist-clarinettist Ernest Léardée, who would become the king of biguine music as well as the main figure of French Uncle Ben's TV commercials (a dark stigma of post-colonial stereotypes), had musicians from the whole Caribbean sphere play at his Bal Blomet – and they all enchanted "ces Zazous-là" (according the words of Léardée's biguine-calypso piece). In les Antilles (French for French West Indies), music history started to speed up in the 1950s, when trade expanded and radio stations grew bigger. The Guadelupean and Martiniquais youth tuned in their old galena radio sets to South American and Caribbean music. As for the women traders, les pacotilleuses, they bought and sold goods across different islands (the "passing of items through various hands" was thought to be most pleasurable) and brought back countless sounds in their luggage. Such was the case of Madame Balthazar, who once returned from Puerto Rico with the first 45rpm and 33rpm to ever enter Martinique.

Out of this adventure was created the famous Martinican label La Maison des Merengues, a music business she opened and undertook with her husband and which proved to be a major landmark. At the end of the 1950s, in Puerto Rico, Marius Cultier competed in the Piano International Contest playing a version of Monk's Round 'Midnight. He won the first prize and this distinction foreshadowed everything that was to come. Cultier, the heretic Monk of jazz, was quickly praised for writing superb melodies, always tinged with a twist that conferred a unique sound to his music. It didn't take long for the gifted self-taught musician to get to play with Los Cubanos, making a name for himself thanks to his impressive maestria on merengues.

The rest is history. Besides, in the late 1950s, Frantz Charles-Denis, born into the upper middle class in Saint-Pierre and better known by his first name Francisco, went back home after working at La Cabane Cubaine – a club located rue Fontaine where he had caught the Latin fever. Francisco's music was therefore heavily marked by his Cuban cousins' influence, which gave the combos he led a specific style and also led to renewal. Things were swinging hard in La Savane, located in the main square in Fort-de-France. He set up the Shango club close by and tested out the biguine lélé there, a new music formula spiced up with Latin rhythms. Soon afterwards, fate had him fly to Puerto Rico and Venezuela.

As for percussionist Henri Guédon (percussions were only a part of his many talents), he was born in Fort-de-France in May 22nd 1944, the day marking the celebration of the abolition of slavery. As an old man, he could remember that in " his father's Teppaz, a lot of hectic 6/8 music was constantly playing...". In the opening lines of his Lettre à Dizzy, a small illustrated collection of writings published by Del Arco, he highlighted the huge impact that cubop had on him as a teenage boy, around 1960. He eventually turned out to be the lider maximo in La Contesta, a big band steeped in Latin jazz. He was also the one who originated the word zouk to describe music which brought the sound of the New York barrio to Paris. It was the culmination of a journey that started in Sainte-Marie: "a mythical place for bélé, the equivalent of Cuban guaguancó". In the early 1960s, the tertiary economy developed to the detriment of agriculture. Yet rural life was where roots music emerged in Martinique and in Guadeloupe.

Record companies played a major part in the process of Latin versions sweeping across the islands – before reaching everywhere else. Producer Célini, boss of the great Aux Ondes label, and Marcel Mavounzy, both the head of Émeraude records - a firm which was founded in 1953 - as well as the brother of famous saxophonist Robert Mavounzy, were big names to bear in mind. Although there were many of them - all of whom are featured on this record - Henri Debs was definitely the major figure in the recording adventure. He proved to be so influential that he even got compared to Berry Gordy. In the mid 1950s, when he acquired his first Teppaz, he worked on his first compositions: a bolero and a chachacha. Then, he became the one man who made people discover Caribbean music, from calypso to merengue. He was among the first ones to rush out to San Juan, Puerto Rico, to buy records and distribute them through a store run by one of his brothers in Fort-de-France. He had members of the Fania All Star come and perform there, which he was madly proud about. He was also the first one to pay attention to Haitian music, such as compas direct and various other rhythms which would soon flood the market. As a result, many of the combos hitting his legendary studio would end up boosted by widespread "Afro-Latin" rhythms. However, he never denied his identity: gwo ka drums were given a major role, although they were instruments which had long been banned from the "official" music spheres. The present selection bears witness to such a creative swarming. Here are fourteen tracks of untimely yet unprecedented cross-fertilization: all types of music rooted in the Creole archipelago have found their way, whatsoever, to the tracklisting. Whether originating from the city or being more rural, they all go back to what Edouard Glissant, in an interview about the place of West Indian music in the Afro-American scope, called "the trace of singing, the one which got erased by slavery." "It is so in jazz, but also in reggae, calypso, biguine, salsa... This trace also manifests through the drums, whether Guadelupean, Dominican, Jamaican or Cuban... None of them being quite the same. They all point to the idea of a trace, seeking it out and connecting to each other through it. This is the hallmark of the African diaspora: its ability to create something new, in relation to itself, out of a trace. It may be the memory of a rhythm, the crafting of a drum, a means of expression which doesn't resort to an old language but to the modalities of it." The opening track features one of the emblematic orchestras of this aesthetic identity, criscrossing many music types from the archipelago. The 1974 Ray Barretto guajira – Ray Barretto was a major New York drummer influenced by Charlie Parker and Chano Pozzo – is magnificently performed by Malavoi, a legendary Fayolais group (i.e from Fort-de-France). Additionally, the compilation ends on a piece by Los Martiniqueños de Francisco. It symbolically closes the circle as it is a genuine potomitan of Martinique culture which also functions as a tireless campaigner for Afro-Caribbean music. Practicing the danmyé rounds (a kind of capoeiria) to the rhythm of the bèlè drum, it delivers a terrific Caterete, a kind of champeta of Afro- Colombian obedience which was originally composed by Colombian Fabián Ramón Veloz Fernández for the group Wgenda Kenya. The icing on the cake is Brazilian Marku Ribas, who found refuge in Martinique in the early 1970s, bringing his singing to the last trance-inducing track. These two "versions" convey the whole tone of a selection composed of rarities and classics of the tropicalized genre, swarming with tonic accents and convoluted rhythms. It is the sort of cocktail that the West Indians never failed to spice up with their own ingredients. For instance, the Los Caraïbes cover of Dónde, a famous Cuban theme composed by producer Ernesto Duarte Brito, has a typical violin and features renowned Martinique singer Joby Valente and his piquant voice.



The track used to be – or so we think – their only existing 45rpm. The meaningful Amor en chachachá by L'Ensemble Tropicana, a band which included Haitian musicians among whom was composer and leader Michel Desgrotte, also recalls how Latin music was pervasive in the tropics in the mid-1960s. They were the ones keeping people dancing at Le Cocoteraie in Guadelupe and La Bananeraie in Martinique. Around the same time, another "foreign" band, Congolese Freddy Mars N'Kounkou's Ryco Jazz, achieved some success on both islands by covering Latin jazz classics – such as their adaptation of Wachi Wara, a "soul sauce" by Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo whose interweaving of strings and percussions can have anyone hit the dancefloor. How can you resist Dap Pinian indeed, a powerful guaguancó by Eugene Balthazar, performed by the Tropicana Orchestra and published by the Martinique-founded La Maison des Merengues? It also acts as a symbol of the maelstrom at work. Going by the name Paco et L'orchestre Cachunga, Roger Jaffory used to play guaguancó too: his Fania-inspired Oye mi consejo is one example of his style. Baila!!!!! Dancing was also one of the Kings' focus points. Oriza is a Puerto Rican bomba and a "classic" originally composed by Nuevayorquino trumpeter Ernie Agosto, which reserves major space for brasses, giving it a special sheen.

Emerging from the New York barrios crucible was also La Perfecta, a Martinique group originating from Trinidad, whose name directly references the totemic Eddie Palmieri figure as well as his own band, also called La Perfecta. Here they borrow Toumbadora from Colombian producer and composer Efraín Lancheros and interpret it by emphasizing percussions, which set fire to the track even more than the wind instruments. The same goes for Martinique's Super Jaguars, who use Tatalibaba – a composition by Cuban guitarist Florencio "Picolo" Santana which was made famous by Celia Cruz & La Sonora Matencera – as a pretext for sending their cadences into a frenzy. In a more typically salsa vein, the Super Combo, a famous Guadelupean orchestra from Pointe-Noire that was formed around the Desplan family and had Roger Plonquitte and Elie Bianay on board, adapt Serana, a theme by Roberto Angleró Pepín, a Puerto Rican composer, singer and musician also known for his song Soy Boricua. Here again, their vision comes close to surpassing the original. In the 1970s, L'Ensemble Abricot provided a handful of tracks of different syles, hence reaching the pinnacle of the art of achieving variety and giving pleasure. They played boleros, biguines, compas direct, guaguancó and even a good old boogaloo - the type they wanted to keep close to their hearts for ever, "pour toujours", as they sang along together in one of their songs. Léon Bertide's Martinican ensemble excelled at the boogaloo which had been composed by Puerto Rican saxophonist Hector Santos for the legendary El Gran Combo.



Three years later, in 1972, Henri Guédon, with the help of Paul Rosine on the vibraphone, tackled the Bilongo made famous by Eddie Palmieri. Such a classic!!!!! And so were the Aiglons, the band from Guadelupe: choosing to execute Pensando en tí, a composition by Dominican Aniceto Batista, on a cooler tempo than the original, they noticeably used a wonderfully (un)tuned keyboard in place of the accordion. On the high-value collectible single – the first one released by Les Aiglons under the Duli Disc label – there is a sticker classifying the track under the generic name "Afro". Now that is what we call a symbol. Jacques Denis

Brian Auger, Julie Driscoll and The Trinity are today best known for their hit recording of Dylan’s then-unreleased This Wheel’s On Fire which is included here, together with covers of songs by the Staple Sisters, Nina Simone, Donovan, Mose Allison and David Ackles. Add in some band-written originals and you have twelve cool tracks mixing jazz, r’n’b, psyche and pop. All songs were specially recorded for the BBC, sound quality is excellent throughout.
Comes with full sleevenotes.




d A4 | Why Am I Treated So Bad




d A4 | Why Am I Treated So Bad




d A4 | Why Am I Treated So Bad




[d] A4 | Why [Am I Treated So Bad]




[d] A4 | Why [Am I Treated So Bad]




[d] A4 | Why [Am I Treated So Bad]




[d] A4 | Why [Am I Treated So Bad]

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

late night drive home have never known a world without Wifi - without access to the endless stream of joy, sorrow, heartbreak, and hope that we all tune in and tune out to on the daily. In many ways, the guys can"t really extricate themselves from that reality - even their band name comes from a random Wikipedia page - but they"re trying to at least grapple with it. "Most of us grew up on the internet with unsupervised access at a very young age," says singer Andre Portillo. "As we started foreseeing all the outcomes - both good and bad - of this kind of access and advancement, we started writing... forming a sound and message that would become our next record." The culmination of that, then, is the buoyant yet ominous as I watch my life online, the band"s debut album. late night drive home was born in El Paso, Texas, and Chaparral, New Mexico, hardworking communities where folks built their houses by hand and collars were mostly blue. Comprising guitarist Juan "Ockz" Vargas, singer Andre Portillo, drummer Brian Dolan, and bassist Freddy Baca, the entirely self-taught quartet released their first digital EP as a full band, 2021"s Am I sinking or Am I swimming?, and blew up with the single "Stress Relief," a blast of early-Aughts indie that racked in tens of millions of streams. After they signed with Epitaph Records in 2023 - and releasing 2024"s grunge-inspired 3 song EP i"ll remember you for the same feeling you gave me as i slept - they found themselves playing stages their indie idols previously shredded: Coachella, Shaky Knees, Austin City Limits, and Kilby Block Party. Since the end of the pandemic, though, the band had been dreaming up as i watch my life online. "I started thinking about the time after the pandemic and how much things were changing," says Vargas. "So the whole album is a critique of social media and the way we use the internet to distance ourselves from each other." The resulting suite of tracks is a series of online vignettes that hammers home the band"s message: the photos on your phone shouldn"t be your identity; your posts aren"t your inner monologue. A bigger life is lived where there"s no service - in your hometown on a late night road with your friends, and on stage, where the band finally found their destination after that long drive.

Japanese acid pop outfit Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin channel the globe-trotting spirit of Haruomi Hosono’s 1970s tropical boogie on their debut album, Tradition.

Named after one of the basic rhythms of Cuban folk music and drawing on influences from across the globe, Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin are quite simply a world unto itself.

Comprised of three childhood friends, Daido, Yuta and So, who reconnected during the coronavirus pandemic, Cho Co Pa initially emerged as a playful way for the three 23-year-olds to pass the time. Tapping into their youthful connection, they created a sound that exudes confidence and curiosity, a homage to the masterful world of YMO’s and Happy End’s Haruomi Hosono, rooted in the trio’s own idiosyncratic experience of the present.

Recorded at home and promoted on hugely popular DIY TikTok videos, their debut album Tradition is a technicolour exercise in armchair travelling – a kind of lockdown exotica for the housebound whose nostalgic flights of fancy are laced with a sense of whimsical melancholy for the lost freedoms of youth.

Referencing everything from Afro-Cuban percussion to lo-fi beats, Buddhist spirituality to trap, each member of the band brings different musical inspirations to the table. Latin American and Middle Eastern styles sit adjacent to a fascination for the electronic music of Aphex Twin, Dorian Concept, Underworld and Daft Punk. At times, the music verges on acid pop bliss, at others, it grooves with the instrumental funk sensibility of BADBADNOTGOOD.

“In the first place, when I create a song, my goal is to transport the listener to a mysterious place,” vocalist Daido explained in a recent magazine interview. Using lyrics as another sonic texture in the composition of ideas, Cho Co Pa paint beguiling sonic postcards of far-flung moods across 12 highly original tracks.

Marrying the organic and the electronic on rhythmically sophisticated compositions like ‘Chichibu’ and ‘Watatsumi’, it is on the album’s standout track ‘Gandhara’ that the experimental sound of Cho Co Pa comes to the fore. Referencing the ancient city of Gandhara through which Buddhism made its way from India to China, the track is a vocoder-trap-inspired, Udu drum-driven pop jam that lilts with unmistakable Balearic flair. If that’s difficult to imagine, then know simply that ‘Gandhara’ sounds like nothing else on this side of Saturn. Even Daido seemed surprised by the outcome: “I feel like we were able to create something that exceeded our abilities. That was huge!”

Hugely popular in Japan, with festival appearances lined up alongside BADBADNOTGOOD at Asagiri Jam in October, it's safe to say the success of Tradition has taken Cho Co Pa by surprise. You won’t have heard anything like it."

Magic Mountain is the fourth studio album by American rock band Black Stone Cherry.

The album debuted at No. 22 on the Billboard 200 chart, selling 13,000 copies in the U.S. in its first week of release. It debuted in the United Kingdom at No. 5.

Produced, engineered, and mixed by Joe Barresi (Melvins, Queens of the Stone Age), this 15-song set unabashedly reflects the band’s biggest influences -- Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zeppelin, Cream, and Whitesnake
-- but places them in a 21st century post-grunge, hard rock context.

Magic Mountain assembles all of BSC’s strengths cohesively.

From swaggering blues-metal of opener “Holding on... to Letting Go” to closing track “Revolutionize”. Magic Mountain comes close to the kind of excitement Black Stone Cherry generate live, and showcases their most refined songwriting skills.

Magic Mountain is available on vinyl for the first time ever as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on gold & purple marbled vinyl. It contains no less than 2 bonustracks & has revised artwork.

Mexican enfant extraordinaire Iñigo Vontier is rolling in with his debut EP for Feines Tier and it’s a match made in heaven. Just judging on the name alone, as he seems to be from some kind of royal Tier family descent. But enough with the mind-numbingly bad puns and on to some brain-meltingly good music.
Rolling. Everything’s rolling. Zongato is rolling. We don’t know who or what a Zongato is (a Google search just led to a Twitch streamer with that name and 0 followers), but they are definitely rolling. It’s got this special combination of straight and uncompromising beat and bass paired with psychedelic synth sirens floating around your head that somehow only the Mexicans really know how to nail.
Astrolo is rolling. Like a well-oiled machine. Well, maybe like a not so well-oiled machine, one that’s shrieking and creaking, but has been running since forever and reliably will do so until we’re all gone from this Earth.
If you ask Google Translate, Mucha Onda means „very cool“ in English, „molto bello“ in Italian or „valde frigidus“ in Latin and there is nothing more to add to that.
The psychedelics are back (were they ever gone?) and kick in in full swing on Hedonist Lizard. A dangerous cocktail of high-proof alcoholic drum and bass patterns paired with some sugary spicy herbals of unknown origin, better not down it in one go. You were warned.
On The Sounds Are Good, the sounds are good indeed! And rolling.

Khadim is a stunning reconfiguration of the Ndagga Rhythm Force sound. The instrumentation is radically pared down. The guitar is gone; the concatenation of sabars; the drum-kit. Each of the four tracks hones in on just one or two drummers; otherwise the sole recorded element is the singing; everything else is programmed. Synths are dialogically locked into the drumming. Tellingly, Ernestus has reached for his beloved Prophet-5, a signature go-to since Basic Channel days, thirty years ago. Texturally, the sound is more dubwise; prickling with effects. There is a new spaciousness, announced at the start by the ambient sounds of Dakar street-life. At the microphone, Mbene Diatta Seck revels in this new openness: mbalax diva, she feelingly turns each of the four songs into a discrete dramatic episode, using different sets of rhetorical techniques. The music throughout is taut, grooving, complex, like before; but more volatile, intuitive and reaching, with turbulent emotional and spiritual expressivity.

Not that Khadim represents any kind of break. Its transformativeness is rooted in the hundreds upon hundreds of hours the Rhythm Force has played together. Nearly a decade has passed since Yermande, the unit's previous album. Every year throughout that period — barring lockdowns — the group has toured extensively, in Europe, the US, and Japan. With improvisation at the core of its music-making, each performance has been evolutionary, as it turns out heading towards Khadim. “I didn’t want to simply continue with the same formula," says Ernestus. “I preferred to wait for a new approach. Playing live so many times, I wanted to capture some of the energy and freedom of those performances.” Though several members of the touring ensemble sit out this recording — sabar drummers, kit-drummer, synth-player — their presence abides in the structure and swing of the music here.

Lamp Fall is a homage to Cheikh Ibra Fall, founder of the Baye Fall spiritual community. The mosque in the city of Touba is known as Lamp Fall, because the main tower resembles a lantern. Soy duggu Touba, moom guey séen / When you enter Touba, he is the one who greets you. After a swift, incantatory start Mbene sings with reflective seriousness. Her voice swirls with reverb, over a tight, funky, propulsive interplay between synth and drums, threaded with one-two jabs of bass. Cheikh Ibra Fall mi may way, mo diayndiou ré, la mu jëndé ko taalibe... Cheikh Ibra Fall amo morome, aboridial / Cheikh Ibra Fall shows the way forward, he gives us strength, he gathers his disciples... Overflowing with grace, Cheikh Ibra Fall has no equal.

Interwoven with Wolof proverbs, Dieuw Bakhul is a recriminatory song about treachery, lies, and back-biting. Over moody, roiling synths and ominous, lean bass, Mbene throws out fluttering scraps of vocal, as if re-running old conversations in her head. The music shadows her despair to the verge of breakdown, at one moment seemingly so lost in thought and memories, that it threatens to disintegrate. Bayilene di wor seen xarit ak seen an da ndo... Dieuw bakhul, dieuw ñaw na / Stop judging your friends and companions... A lie is no good, a lie is ugly.

Khadim is a show-stopper; currently the centrepiece of Ndagga Rhythm Force live performances. The song is dedicated to Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba, aka Khadim, founder of the Mouride Sufi order. Serigne Bamba mi may wayeu / Serigne Bamba is the one who makes me sing. The verses name-check revered members of his family and brotherhood, like Sokhna Diarra, Mame Thierno, and Serigne Bara. Though Islam has been practised in Senegal for a millennium, it wasn’t until the start of the twentieth century that it began to thoroughly permeate ordinary Senegalese society, hand-in-hand with anti-colonialism. The verses here recall Bamba’s banishment by the French to Gabon, and later to Mauritania, in those foundational times. During exile, his captors once introduced a lion to his cell: gaïnde gua waf, dieba lu ci Cheikhoul Khadim / the lion doesn’t budge, it gives itself over to Cheikh Khadim. Deep, surging bass, steady kick-drum, and simple, reverbed chords on the off-beat lend the feel and impetus of steppers reggae. A reed plays snatches of a traditional Baye Fall melody; the dazzling polyrhythmic drumming is by Serigne Mamoune Seck. Mbene compellingly blends percussive vocalese, narrative suspense, exultant praise, introspection, and grievance.

Nimzat is a devotional tribute to Cheikh Sadbou, a contemporary of Bamba, buried in a mausoleum in Nizmat, in southern Mauritania. Way nala, kagne nala... souma danana fata dale / I call upon you and wonder about you... If I am overwhelmed, come to my aid. The town holds special significance for Khadr Sufism. An annual pilgrimage there is conducted to this day. The rhythm is buoyantly funky; the mood is sombre, reined-in, foreboding. Punctuated by peals of thunder, Mbene sings with restrained, intense reverence; huskily confidential, steadfast. Nanu dem ba Nimzat, dé ba sali khina / Let us go to Nimzat, to seal our devotion.

Mbene Diatta Seck: vocals.
Bada Seck: bougarabou, thiol, mbeung mbeung bal, tungune.
Serigne Mamoune Seck: bougarabou, khine, mbeung mbeung, tungune.
Text by Mark Ainley (Honest Jons).
Mastered by Rashad Becker.
Everything else by Mark Ernestus.

In ,What's The Matter, M. Ross?", dem dritten Album des eigenwilligen Autors M. Ross Perkins, befindet sich unser Junge auf einer Reise nach innen, auf der er das Transzendente und und Existenzielles mit seinem lyrisch bisher bekenntnishaftesten Album verbindet. Multiinstrumentalist Perkins muss man dem Singer/Songwriter-Zeitgeist zurechnen, der für MJ Lenderman und Waxahatchee schwärmt und gleichzeitig Optimismus vermittelt. "What's the Matter, M Ross?" wurde komplett von Perkins komponiert, gespielt und in seinem Studio in Dayton, OH aufgenommen. Die Kopfhörer-Symphonien bewegen sich mit einer bedächtigen, komponierten Raffinesse, während die Texte neues Terrain erkunden. Die Eckpfeiler des Psych-Pop bleiben: die Schnörkel von Nilsson sind noch da, aber auch Gram Parsons und Jonathan Richman. Wenn man "What's the Matter, M. Ross?" geografisch einordnen will, dann ist das Album zu gleichen Teilen Laurel Canyon und Big Pink, mehr Woodstock die Stadt als das Festival. Perkins ist ein in sich geschlossener Teenage Fanclub (aus der Spätphase) mit George Harrisons spirituellem Sinn für inneres Fernweh.

In ,What's The Matter, M. Ross?", dem dritten Album des eigenwilligen Autors M. Ross Perkins, befindet sich unser Junge auf einer Reise nach innen, auf der er das Transzendente und und Existenzielles mit seinem lyrisch bisher bekenntnishaftesten Album verbindet. Multiinstrumentalist Perkins muss man dem Singer/Songwriter-Zeitgeist zurechnen, der für MJ Lenderman und Waxahatchee schwärmt und gleichzeitig Optimismus vermittelt. "What's the Matter, M Ross?" wurde komplett von Perkins komponiert, gespielt und in seinem Studio in Dayton, OH aufgenommen. Die Kopfhörer-Symphonien bewegen sich mit einer bedächtigen, komponierten Raffinesse, während die Texte neues Terrain erkunden. Die Eckpfeiler des Psych-Pop bleiben: die Schnörkel von Nilsson sind noch da, aber auch Gram Parsons und Jonathan Richman. Wenn man "What's the Matter, M. Ross?" geografisch einordnen will, dann ist das Album zu gleichen Teilen Laurel Canyon und Big Pink, mehr Woodstock die Stadt als das Festival. Perkins ist ein in sich geschlossener Teenage Fanclub (aus der Spätphase) mit George Harrisons spirituellem Sinn für inneres Fernweh.

Madlib Invazion reissues Madlib’s collaboration with legendary Brazilian drummer Ivan “Mamao” Conti, propellant for lauded jazz fusion archetypes Azymuth. 5000 pressed for worldwide. Debuts on Black Friday. First released in 2008 on CD by the US based Mochilla imprint with vinyl being issued only in Europe on the Kindered Sprits label. Both formats are out of print with vinyl unavailble since its initial run. Alternate cover artwork, photography by B+. When Madlib went to Brazil in 2002 with Mochilla to participate in the production of Brasilintime his one mission was to meet Ivan “Mamao” Conti the drummer of the legendary trio Azymuth. Madlib had made an Azymuth tribute record he wanted to play for him. On a rainy night in Rio Mamao and Madlib went in the studio. Several hours later the rhythm tracks that make up Sujinho were laid and the process began. Featuring the music of Madlib, Mamao, Edu Lobo, Chico Buarque de Hollanda, Luiz Eca, Baden Powell, Vinicius De Moraes, Marcos Valle, Joao Donato, Dom Um Romao, Airto Moreira and even George Duke… and with guest vocals by Thalma De Freitas — Jackson Conti is a unique and classic record. Filled with the angularity and edge of a Madlib production and underwritten by the polyrhythmics of Mamao — Sujinho takes Brazilian music into places it has never been, bringing oft forgotten classics like Upa Neguinho to 21st century ears.

WOW. Daniel O'Sullivan's transcendent new album, Eros, is one of the greatest things we've ever heard. A simply stunning song cycle of hypnotic, experimental contemporary chamber music composed for a 14-piece ensemble. Combining minimalism, complex syncopation, detailed acoustic textures, weird intervals and samurai precision, this record will elegantly blow your mind. When Daniel first sent us this, he pitched it as “Liquid Swords meets Michael Nyman”. Trust us, he wasn't wrong. A "unique hybrid orchestral music", it presents a confluence of Daniel's longstanding fixations; indeed, there's elements of Nyman, Antonio Carlos Jobim, Magma, Aaron Copland and RZA. But this is wholly O'Sullivan's. Originally commissioned for the Sonoton Music Library in Munich, Eros now receives a deluxe vinyl release courtesy of Be With Records, bringing this meticulously crafted work to a wider audience. Limited to just 500 copies for the world, these are gonna fly.

An English composer and multi-instrumentalist, Daniel O'Sullivan’s career has been marked by versatility and innovation. In addition to his work with Sonoton, he has composed extensively for the legendary KPM music library, contributing to its storied legacy of production music. As a deep virtuoso and collaborator, O'Sullivan has also played in a number of influential projects, including Ulver, Sunn O))), This Is Not This Heat, Grumbling Fur and Miracle (with Steve Moore), leaving an indelible mark on the contemporary experimental music landscape.

O’Sullivan’s first foray into classically informed chamber music, Eros is a culmination of his long-standing fixations and expansive musical influences. The album features arrangements that are as detailed as they are emotionally resonant, showcasing his unparalleled ear for intervals and mastery of counterpoint. The music brims with complex rhythmic syncopation and a sensitivity to texture and space, resulting in a soundscape that is both intoxicating and dauntingly precise.

Recorded June 2023 and February 2024, in Brussels, London and Carmarthenshire, Wales, Eros features members of Echo Collective (Neil Leiter and Margaret Hermant), Thighpaulsandra (from seminal post-industrial band Coil), and jazz pioneer Oren Marshall. Daniel's sonic weapons of choice, in his own inimitable words, were "Big Bad Drum, Pee Anne Oh, Low End Brass, Willowy Winds & Samurai Strings." You get the picture. As a cyclical suite, this is a record that really needs to be heard in its entitreity, from start to finish, to truly appreciate the genius at work here.

A jaw-dropping statement of intent, the minimalist "Golden Verses" sets the tone with its complex cue which has your neck snapping right when it feels like it needs to. Listen and you'll understand. A syncopated tangle of sharp strings, crunchy bass, drums percussion and bright piano and mallets vie for position with French horn and woodwind melody in the most compelling and unexpected ways. Quite simply, it's one of the finest album openers I've ever heard. It's followed by the atmospheric rippling minimalism of "Lyre Lyre", a gorgeous gem with shimmering chimes, bright melody, human percussion and syncopated pizzicato strings. It kinda comes on like a less-abstract Boards Of Canada, bursting with typical wonderment. The piano and string-drenched "Dolorous Stroke" effortlessly builds its warm, pastoral orchestration with flowing piano arpeggio, steadfast drums, expressive string quartet, rich low brass, woodwind and lyrical flute. Just sublime.

The insistent frenetic propulsion of "Plain Paper" is utterly beguiling, featuring a determined string motif, urgent drums and percussion, driving low brass and breathless, energetic flute. The haunting, interweaving string arpeggios that propel "Grapes Draped" presents a claustrophobic minimalism for chaos and darkness, with growling low woodwind and brass, spiky harpsichord, skittering flutes and tight drums. Up next, "Xanix Annum" is a stately minimalist waltz with expressive lyrical string quartet and delicate woodwind, anchored by drums and percussion. "Painting Rose" is a bouncy stop-start track with angular syncopated strings and a piano pulse underneath bright harpsichord and flutes. "Rotunda Garden" presents ethereal textural minimalism for landscapes and reflection with flowing string arpeggios, warm, low woodwind drones, floating choir and cymbal swells. Closing out this extraordinary side of music, the glowing, flowing minimalism of "Flowry Orb" features urgent organ, piano and woodwind arpeggios, half-time drums with shimmering cymbals, a soaring, beautiful violin solo and hypnotic vocal chant.

Side 2 opens with "Theia Mania" a determinedly off-kilter, angular track featuring low wind, brass and drum stomp in dialogue with lively string trio, woodwind and solo horn. The light, airy minimalism of "Painting Percy" is built around an interplay of rhythmic motifs for piano, low brass, bassoon, fluttering flutes, urgent strings, drums and percussion whilst "For Archetypes" is a delicate, gently syncopated chamber cue for nostalgia, nature, reflection and moments of calm, with steady piano motif, intimate woodwind and French horn, and warm, graceful strings. The urgent Ars Memoriae is a propulsive march for progress, processes and industry, underpinned by driving tuba, with determined strings, resolute drums, and vivid, expressive flute, clarinet and French horn.

The syncopated energetic minimalism of "Mirrored Seven" presents layers of melodic and cyclical piano, drums, low brass, harp, flute and strings. "Pure Ornament" follows, a slowly evolving chamber cue with flowing clarinet, string and harp arpeggio, plodding tuba and percussion, fluttering flute and graceful, lyrical solos. Stunning! Up next, "Brave Boy" moves from its tender, warm, lullaby-like intro with lyrical flute, clarinet and strings before opening into a playful backend driven by a bouncy tuba riff and syncopated piano, woodwind, string trio, and drums and percussion. Rounding out this astonishing piece, "Waxen Waned" is a warm, pastoral chamber cue with light lyrical woodwind, tender French horn and subtly pulsing string trio.

The album's title is a reference to Plato’s conception of Eros, which is more than romantic or physical desire. It is a dynamic and creative force that drives individuals to seek perfection whether in art, relationships, philosophy or the pursuit of truth. Wholly appropriate, here, we think. When asked what his influences were in making this astounding record, he answered thusly: "Non-musical: Householding, Pythagoras, Goethe, Grail romances, Hermeticism, Doctrine of Signatures (Parcelsus, Bohme, Pliny), Eric Rohmer, John Stezaker, Yasujiro Ozu. Musical: Duke Ellington (late suites), Smile-era Brian, early RZA, Wagner (Parsifal Overture), Magma, Mancini, Axelrod, YMO, Hildegard, Nyman, Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Jobim (Stone Flower), Alessandro Alessandroni, Tavener, Moondog, Orthodox Music, Secular Music." That's some pretty deep shit. Makes you want to dive in, no?

Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis, and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. Truly, Eros is a work of extraordinary depth and sophistication. It invites listeners to immerse themselves in its intricate layers, to lose themselves in its hypnotic rhythms, and to marvel at the precision of its execution. With this release, O’Sullivan reaffirms his position as one of the most inventive and uncompromising voices in contemporary music. Do. Not. Sleep.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Dua Lipa veröffentlicht zum bevorstehenden 5-jährigen Jubiläum ihres mit einem GRAMMY Award ausgezeichneten und mit Platin zertifizierten zweiten Studioalbum Future Nostalgia eine 3LP Special-Edition.
Gepresst auf einer gelben Splatter-Vinyl und zwei schwarzen Vinyl, enthält das 3-LP-Set die 11 OriginalTracks des Albums sowie die Deluxe Moonlight Edition und das Remix-Album Club Future Nostalgia.

Bells Are Ringing is the debut EP by Melbourne Funk 10 piece outfit Mondo Freaks, released following on from the single of the same name and a thrilling Dub Version by Harvey Sutherland.

Mondo Freaks formed originally as a concept band, equipped with an ever-evolving setlist of late '70s and early '80s Funk classics, their journey has seen them invited to be the backing band for the Australian tours of such luminaries as Leroy Burgess (the producer and artist behind Boogie and Disco favourites Black Ivory, Logg, Aleem, Inner Life, and Universal Robot Band) and the iconic Evelyn "Champagne" King. Having performed at the iconic local Meredith Music, Golden Plains and Panama festivals and at numerous residencies Mondo Freaks have carved their mark, returning now to ring in a new era of groove-soaked original music.

The band revolves around the rhythm section of in demand session bassist Luke Hodgson and drummer Graeme Pogson (GL, The Bamboos). Gathering some of the finest musicians from Melbourne's legendary Soul scene, they're accompanied by five incredible vocalists including Jade McRae, Susie Goble, Francisco Tavares, Aaron Mendoza and Jason Heerah.

New tracks on the EP include "Find A Way", which hits straight away with a percussion and synth hook, blending Jade McCrae's vocal delivery with an uplifting message about finding hope in trying times.

Also included is the Harvey Sutherland Vocal Mix of "Bells Are Ringing", which keeps much of the spaced out Larry Levan, Shep Pettibone re-edit approach that was on his much lauded Dub Version.

It's easy to see why his remix skills have been in demand and utilised by Disclosure, Khruangbin, BadBadNotGood, Tycho, Boston Bun, Lucius, Jungle Giants, Genesis Owusu and Franc Moody. On his own releases Sutherland has collaborated with the likes of DāM FunK and Nubya Garcia.Tightening its hold on the dancefloor, the beefed-up rhythm section rolls deep into the nocturnal hours, as mesmerising reverb loops elevate the track skywards.

Luke and Graeme got to know Harvey Sutherland when they played together backing Leroy Burgesson his Australian tour in 2018. After that Luke and Graeme played in Harvey's live band across the world and then contributed his 'BOY' album. "We were thrilled when he turned in his Dub of "Bells"", Luke said. "A kind of 'what would Shep Pettibone or Larry Levan do?' moment. It's like being transported to Compass Point Studios in '81!"

Mondo Freaks make Funk inspired by late '70s / early '80s era as it gently moved beyond Disco. That era has continued to inspire many artists, but what sets Mondo Freaks apart is their live instrumentation plus a focus on vocals and great songwriting, creating something beyond simply instrumental grooves.In the studio and in their full live lineup Mondo Freaks are a formidable ensemble who take their sound beyond mere homage, without a hint of irony or any knowing winks. Mondo Freaks simply breathe life into a timeless sound and make it feel more relevant than ever.

Some record crates deserve a sub-category called 'play it again, Sam'. tracks that spin on the turntables without a push. Funk Kraut, Zombie Zombie's second LP on Born Bad, is of this kind. This well-proportioned classic is a fine example of the style the trio has been embodying: instrumental for synths and drums music played live. This time it was a quick affair, recorded by Laurent Deboisgisson in the studio of Cheveu's singer. A pretty straightforward job, and a far cry from their previous concept album. Let us praise Krikor Kouchian's mix: drums have been resampled with some restraint, and that Linn Drum kick lightens up the overall mix. It marks a notable evolution in the band's sound, and adds some dynamic. The album kicks off with 'No cruise control', a big bad sedan that effortlessly eats up the distance at 120 BPM. Kraut as can be, with a twist. And as far as funk goes, it's not Bootsy Collins, but there's a whiff. Space is structured by synth patterns, for optimized drumming : forward, straight and fluid, top-notch suspension (Cosmic Neman / Dr Scho?nberg take care of business on drums). They treat themselves to a diversion via Darmstadt to take some musique concrete on board : mechanical birds chirp, the odd atonal piano here and there. Nerds will appreciate liner notes detailing the equipment used : about twenty synths and they still describe it as minimal. With 'Densite?', we've just passed a polyphonic milestone: outright chords ! Long, suspended pads, pierced only by fat claps. Clapping hands are not far off. The band shows it has mastered concise pop formats. That same vibe can be found in 'Jungle the Jungle', paradoxical tune, catchy and moody at once. You'll get some brass riffs in 'Helix', which takes off on a synth moving from one speaker to another to herald the crash of syncopated drums to come.Zombie Zombie sounds ready to write themes for niche TV series.'Aurillac Accident' documents a haphazard soundcheck which, once in the studio, became a bitter ballad, breaking apart into dubby gravy. Live with two drummers performing, this aspect showcases in 'Snare Attack' and 'Double Z', with its jogging hi-hats and creepy little toy piano motifs. Cardio levels are high on 'Dodorian', perfect track for depraved spinning classes, with its moving filter, disco arpeggios and flashes of synthetic brass. 'Magnavox Odyssey', a nostalgic but bouncy synth lasagna, brings this album to a majestic close. The cover by Dddixie sets the tone with its 'Motorik Vibes & Stereo Grooves' sticker. Motorik, absolutely, it's autobahn time for 45 minutes. And when it comes to stereo grooving, the acoustic image is as wide as the canyons of Mars. DO NOT MISS THIS ALBUM (or the previous Vae Vobis)!

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Wellen.Brecher is an electronic band with punk attitude, which has been transcending and subverting electronic music genre boundaries for the past 6 years. After the release of Tierisch Verboten, which can confidently be described as the "soundtrack to inclusion", and a strong second release on our label Killekill, LIEBESERKLARUNG is the band's first full length album. Including a series of first-class remixes.
Refreshingly, the entire release is not based on the corny bad trance traditions loved by contemporary Buffalo shoe wearers. Instead - intentionally or not - it follows a series of almost historical musical quotations from over the last 40 years with each track on the album feeling like a new adventure.
The album opens with TUROFFNER, which has a kind of an Afrika Bambaataa intro, before turning into a wonderfully tresoresque/Detroit techno beast, always commented on or counteracted by the vocals - just like (almost) all the tracks on the album: a new round, a new crazy ride - bumper car lyrics on a powerful stomping reduction of a 90s track.
From here we leap backwards in time into grey West Berlin of the 80s with ROBOT GIRL which shifts and drifts like a bug in buttermilk somewhere between Grauzone and Alan Vega. Next track KAPUTT kicks in with a bang and smashes everything in the best EBM tradition - this could have been played in a techno club in Frankfurt, both in terms of lyrics and sound. Line up for Elektropogo please!
After all the stomping Wellen.Brecher bring in something completely different with VOICE OF A GENERATION: dramatic vocals over delicate breaks which gradually dissolve into arpeggios on a high-quality trance carpet. Challenge complete!
JULIA takes us back to the late eighties in the dark but fun Belgian-Detroit early trance with new beat appeal. TUNNEL TRANCE would have been a good fit for dancing around the Berlin Siegessaule in, let's say, 1998. Relentless 4/4 beats with a hook-line on speed surrounded by acidophilic bows and, on top, the vocal commentary arriving as if from the man behind the glass of the Ferris wheel. In
your mind's eye, you can see fur-shoed gym ravers in bright neon jumping through the Tiergarten like rubber balls. The cover version of the classic TECHNO DJ is an hommage to good old punk - torn apart and reassembled in true Wellen.Brecher style. The closer TIERISCH VERBOTEN brings all the emotion rushing back: fat beats beckon slowly from afar, before the curtain comes up for an epic synth finale.
The harsh, albeit true words really drive you in. It's not necessary, but perhaps it's good to point it out: Inclusion can easily be experienced with music like this. Fuck AfD!

Wellen.Brecher is an electronic band with punk attitude, which has been transcending and subverting electronic music genre boundaries for the past 6 years. After the release of Tierisch Verboten, which can confidently be described as the "soundtrack to inclusion", and a strong second release on our label Killekill, LIEBESERKLARUNG is the band's first full length album. Including a series of first-class remixes.
Refreshingly, the entire release is not based on the corny bad trance traditions loved by contemporary Buffalo shoe wearers. Instead - intentionally or not - it follows a series of almost historical musical quotations from over the last 40 years with each track on the album feeling like a new adventure.
The album opens with TUROFFNER, which has a kind of an Afrika Bambaataa intro, before turning into a wonderfully tresoresque/Detroit techno beast, always commented on or counteracted by the vocals - just like (almost) all the tracks on the album: a new round, a new crazy ride - bumper car lyrics on a powerful stomping reduction of a 90s track.
From here we leap backwards in time into grey West Berlin of the 80s with ROBOT GIRL which shifts and drifts like a bug in buttermilk somewhere between Grauzone and Alan Vega. Next track KAPUTT kicks in with a bang and smashes everything in the best EBM tradition - this could have been played in a techno club in Frankfurt, both in terms of lyrics and sound. Line up for Elektropogo please!
After all the stomping Wellen.Brecher bring in something completely different with VOICE OF A GENERATION: dramatic vocals over delicate breaks which gradually dissolve into arpeggios on a high-quality trance carpet. Challenge complete!
JULIA takes us back to the late eighties in the dark but fun Belgian-Detroit early trance with new beat appeal. TUNNEL TRANCE would have been a good fit for dancing around the Berlin Siegessaule in, let's say, 1998. Relentless 4/4 beats with a hook-line on speed surrounded by acidophilic bows and, on top, the vocal commentary arriving as if from the man behind the glass of the Ferris wheel. In
your mind's eye, you can see fur-shoed gym ravers in bright neon jumping through the Tiergarten like rubber balls. The cover version of the classic TECHNO DJ is an hommage to good old punk - torn apart and reassembled in true Wellen.Brecher style. The closer TIERISCH VERBOTEN brings all the emotion rushing back: fat beats beckon slowly from afar, before the curtain comes up for an epic synth finale.
The harsh, albeit true words really drive you in. It's not necessary, but perhaps it's good to point it out: Inclusion can easily be experienced with music like this. Fuck AfD!

No matter how much of their filthy riches Munich’s oh-so shiny and smart glitterati are going to spend on generic pest control, they’ll never manage to exterminate SPINNEN (n.b. German for “spiders” – and also for “being bonkers” ;) Instead, SPINNEN will spread even further, they’ll form new networks, take over new corners, new spots, connect more musical dots with invisible, incendiary cobwebs.

Whereas these two SPINNEN – Sophie Neudecker (drums) and Veronica “Katta” Burnuthian (bass) – have been doing their spidery thing(s) in countless muggy, experimental corners of Munich for years (think bands such as Bombo, Uschi, Apian, The Living Object, Friends of Gas + other art ventures, tats, Schaufel & Besen Records…), the duo’s first full-length offering for Weilheim-based Alien Transistor sees them move on towards a warm kind of light – “Warmes Licht”. Inspired by Lambrini Girls, Peaches, McLusky, Amyl And The Sniffers, and all things loud and gain-heavy around their hometown, the album – obviously two body parts (A + B side), 8 legs (tracks) – is set to arrive in March 2025.

“Zusammen wachsen/Zusammen fallen,” meaning grow together/fall together feels like a fitting motto on opening track “Träume,” an initial onslaught of shouts, spiky basslines, crunchy chords, a whole lot of awesome friction in that lovely lower end. “Visionen folgen/Kämpfen und Erschaffen,” is another apt line while doing just that, fighting, creating, turning visions into soundscapes, into pure sonic fun & resistance. Putting even more pressure on the mosh pit with wordless “Wirken,” that titular warm light eventually breaks through towards the end of hypnotic “Moment”: The lyrics might talk about a calm state of mind – but these two are certainly not slowing down, not aiming for consistency, or for “making it”…

“Warm” has no drums, no message, it’s pure light, all playful organ hypnosis, paving the way for the b-side that opens with first single “Geister” (spirits/ghosts/genies): Arriving with a rough wind that immediately turns things upside down, it’s all screams and riffs, turbines and propellers – one of many moments that make you realize how bad you want to see this hi-octane duo live, how good it must feel to have them scare the shit out of your body (“Verscheuche mich aus meinem Körper”). They’re like two genies coming from the same smashed bottle, offering three wishes to those who’re lucky enough to listen (Fuzzy Noise Pop? Punk Catharsis? Rrriot Krautsound?).

Following a quick melancholy breather (“Lichter”), things once again get restless as they rush towards the punk finale via slow-burning demolisher anthem “Ermüdend”/“Immer wieder,” only to unleash one last battle cry, one last middle finger made of light and noise to the heated room (“Mäuse”) they’ve long taken over.

It’s certainly no coincidence that a certain square/fine/upstanding citizen named Margit O. gave Munich’s Bürgerpark Oberföhring a scathing 1-star review on Google Maps exactly four years ago – at the very moment that Sophie and Katta first met just there, which eventually lead to the formation of SPINNEN. The reason for O.’s negative rating: “Too loud”.

Cindy Lee, Arthur Russell, Viagra Boys, On-U Sound. In the discourse around new albums from singular, world-building artists, the phrase “a big step forward” can often be a blinking red warning sign. You know you’re about to be pulled somewhere new against your will. Inertia is a hell of a thing. It’s nice here. Surely, the party’s not over yet? JJULIUS’ Vol. 3 album is a big step forward, or a step up, out of the murky basement of the preceding two volumes. There’s no time to acclimate. A spindly violin grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the pastoral bounce of “Brinna ut,” which, in spite of its meaning (“Burn out”), creates the kind of blind positivity and warm stomach feeling less cynical people might find in self-help seminars. For us, we have records like this. And, inertia be damned, Vol. 3 has charm like a balm. JJULIUS records have always arrived like meteors from another planet, an impression hammered home by the fact that they’re titled like compendiums of artifacts. And while Vols. 1 and 2 carried that notable tinge of darkness, Vol. 3 has (almost!) cast that shadow, adding elements of disco (“Dödsdisco”) and dream-pop (“Etopisk hallucination”) to his forever favorites Arthur Russell, African Head Charge, and The Fall. Some of that new car smell could be attributed to a change in process. Each song was written over beats played by Tor Sjödén of the wild-eyed Stockholm group Viagra Boys, beats that were themselves inspired by tracks from the likes of Patrick Cowley, CAN, Count Ossie, Black Devil Disco Club and others that Julius would send to him as inspiration. Unless you’re Mark E. Smith, fervor fades. Eventually we all crave a lie down in some nice grass, a few minutes to gaze at the sky and wonder if everything is actually all that bad. Vol. 3 gives you 35 of those respiting minutes. “No looking back, no misery, no talking trash, no enemies.”

Basias Palast ist kein Schloss, sondern ein Ort voller Liebe, Erinnerungen und schlechter Verkabelung. Seit sich wieder mit Co-Produzent Mark Lawson zusammentat, bewegt sie sich durch eine Traumwelt aus Geflüster, Synthesizern, frühen Chansons und Eurovision-Songs, Leonard Cohens "I'm Your Man", Airs "Moon Safari" und den hauchzarten Maryla Rodowicz-LPs ihres Grossonkels. Das Ergebnis klingt wie ein Album, das hinter den Hintergründen ihrer Kindheitsfotos verborgen war. "Basia's Palace" wurde vom legendären Toningenieur Tucker Martine (Beth Orton, Neko Case, The National) gemischt und mit dem schwebenden Streicherarrangement von Drew Jurecka (Dua Lipa, Alvvays) eingespielt.

Zur Künstlerin:
Basia Bulat ist eine Singer-Songwriterin aus Montreal, Kanada. Neben ihren Fähigkeiten als ausdrucksstarke Sängerin mit unverwechselbarer Stimme ist sie eine versierte Multiinstrumentalistin, die auf E-Gitarre, Klavier, Autoharp, Ukulele, Bass und Charango aufnimmt. Ihre Songs werden für Aufführungen mit Symphonieorchestern adaptiert, sie selber wird zu prestigeträchtigen Tributes an Leonard Cohen, Daniel Lanois, Nick Cave und The Band eingeladen. Seit der Veröffentlichung ihres Debüts 2007 teilte sich Bulat die Bühne mit Künstlern wie St Vincent, Sufjan Stevens, Nick Cave aAnd The Bad Seeds, The National, Michael Kiwanuka, Daniel Lanois, Beirut, Destroyer, US Girls, Jim James, u.a. Sie trat in der #LateShowMeMusic-Reihe mit Stephen Colbert und Jools Holland auf, ist dreimalige Finalistin des Polaris Music Prize und wurde für fünf JUNO Awards nominiert.

Today, chart-topping vocal powerhouse Teddy Swims releases four new surprise tracks on I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy (Part 1.5). The project includes his chart-conquering smash hit ‘Lose Control,’ which recently claimed the top spot on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and has surpassed 1 billion streams across all platforms.

Among the four new tracks on I’ve Tried Everything But Therapy (Part 1.5) is ‘Hammer to the Heart,’ a moody anthem with a stirring, stadium-ready chorus, ‘Tell Me,’ an understated alt-leaning offering that explores loss and heartbreak, and ‘Apple Juice,’ the kind of soulful throwback that Swims does better than anyone. Another unforgettable highlight is ‘Growing Up Is Getting Old,’ an acoustic treasure that captures the Atlanta native’s magnetism like never before.

2025 Cream VINYL REPRESS.

When Alex Stephens (A.K.A. Strawberry Guy) self-released his debut single last year, he was merely doing it out of a love for songwriting. What he wasn't expecting was a million Youtube streams and an avid fanbase. Now, the South-Wales born, Liverpool-based songwriter is ready to release a full EP of his compelling, lushly produced dream-pop.

Born outside Cardiff, Strawberry Guy moved to Liverpool to study music and grow as a writer. 'I knew that it was a very artistic city with all it’s creative history, it seemed like the perfect place to move to.' he says. Whether it's playing keyboards in The Orielles or just being part of the city's growing musical scene, Alex plays music for the love of music, something that heavily translates into his adept songwriting.


The intense emotional feel of the tracks he writes is down to Alex's songwriting process, recording the entire EP in his bedroom & producing it himself. 'I feel that it’s important to me to only write/record when you’re channeling some kind of emotion, so I would only work on it when I was in the right mood to do so.' He answers when asked about the isolated environment into which he put himself for the recording process.

Much of the inspiration for Alex's work comes from experience rather than other artists. 'When something significant happens to me, all I want to do is make music.' In terms of musical touchstones however, there's the obvious dream-pop contemporaries such as Beach House and Weyes Blood, coupled with great songwriters of old like Nat King Cole or Harry Nillson. Sonically, a blend of orchestral & synthesized melodies layer together to act as a platform for his heartfelt lyrics.

Opener 'Without You' is a fine example of this, a break-up song of sorts, with an infectious keyboard melody and swirling synths over which Alex contemplates whether it's even possible to find lasting love. The lyrics 'Do you really have to talk about the things you do with him? Do you really have to talk about your love?' hit particularly heavily.

Contrast this with the final track, the titular 'Taking My Time To Be', a powerful song of self-discovery. Beginning with downtempo piano and drums, the song breaks out into a saxophone and synth solo that wouldn't go amiss on a Badalamenti soundtrack. 'The song is about me learning to be comfortable with myself, but then wondering if I'll be accepted for being myself' Alex imparts. It's a fitting closer to a EP driven by emotion and experience.

Bei den Aufnahmen zu ihrem elften Album 'The Bad Fire' in den schottischen Chem19 Studios wurde die Band von Grammy-Preisträger und Produzent John Congleton (St. Vincent, Angel Olsen, John Grant) unterstützt. 'The Bad Fire' ist eine schottische Redewendung für die Hölle und wurde von einer Reihe belastender persönlicher Momente inspiriert, die die Band nach ihrem zehnten Album, dem Chartstürmer 'As The Love Continues', durchmachte. (Das Album setzte sich bei Erscheinen auf Platz 1 der britischen Albumcharts, in Deutschland auf Platz 3.)

Doch ging es der Band nie darum, Karriere zu machen, vielmehr war Musik schon immer eine Form der Flucht, des Entkommens aus der Zeitenfalle. Und des Ankommens im Hier und Jetzt. Das trifft auch heute noch zu im jetzt schon 30sten Jahr ihres Bestehens. Die Zeit steht für einen Moment still. Lauscht man der Musik nur mit ausreichender Aufmerksamkeit und Lautstärke.

- 2LP+DL (schwarzes Vinyl in einem Gatefold-Sleeve mit MP3-Download-Code und einer geätzten Seite)

Bei den Aufnahmen zu ihrem elften Album 'The Bad Fire' in den schottischen Chem19 Studios wurde die Band von Grammy-Preisträger und Produzent John Congleton (St. Vincent, Angel Olsen, John Grant) unterstützt. 'The Bad Fire' ist eine schottische Redewendung für die Hölle und wurde von einer Reihe belastender persönlicher Momente inspiriert, die die Band nach ihrem zehnten Album, dem Chartstürmer 'As The Love Continues', durchmachte. (Das Album setzte sich bei Erscheinen auf Platz 1 der britischen Albumcharts, in Deutschland auf Platz 3.)

Doch ging es der Band nie darum, Karriere zu machen, vielmehr war Musik schon immer eine Form der Flucht, des Entkommens aus der Zeitenfalle. Und des Ankommens im Hier und Jetzt. Das trifft auch heute noch zu im jetzt schon 30sten Jahr ihres Bestehens. Die Zeit steht für einen Moment still. Lauscht man der Musik nur mit ausreichender Aufmerksamkeit und Lautstärke.

- 2LP+DL (schwarzes Vinyl in einem Gatefold-Sleeve mit MP3-Download-Code und einer geätzten Seite)

Bei den Aufnahmen zu ihrem elften Album 'The Bad Fire' in den schottischen Chem19 Studios wurde die Band von Grammy-Preisträger und Produzent John Congleton (St. Vincent, Angel Olsen, John Grant) unterstützt. 'The Bad Fire' ist eine schottische Redewendung für die Hölle und wurde von einer Reihe belastender persönlicher Momente inspiriert, die die Band nach ihrem zehnten Album, dem Chartstürmer 'As The Love Continues', durchmachte. (Das Album setzte sich bei Erscheinen auf Platz 1 der britischen Albumcharts, in Deutschland auf Platz 3.)

Doch ging es der Band nie darum, Karriere zu machen, vielmehr war Musik schon immer eine Form der Flucht, des Entkommens aus der Zeitenfalle. Und des Ankommens im Hier und Jetzt. Das trifft auch heute noch zu im jetzt schon 30sten Jahr ihres Bestehens. Die Zeit steht für einen Moment still. Lauscht man der Musik nur mit ausreichender Aufmerksamkeit und Lautstärke.

- 2LP+DL (schwarzes Vinyl in einem Gatefold-Sleeve mit MP3-Download-Code und einer geätzten Seite)

Bei den Aufnahmen zu ihrem elften Album 'The Bad Fire' in den schottischen Chem19 Studios wurde die Band von Grammy-Preisträger und Produzent John Congleton (St. Vincent, Angel Olsen, John Grant) unterstützt. 'The Bad Fire' ist eine schottische Redewendung für die Hölle und wurde von einer Reihe belastender persönlicher Momente inspiriert, die die Band nach ihrem zehnten Album, dem Chartstürmer 'As The Love Continues', durchmachte. (Das Album setzte sich bei Erscheinen auf Platz 1 der britischen Albumcharts, in Deutschland auf Platz 3.)

Doch ging es der Band nie darum, Karriere zu machen, vielmehr war Musik schon immer eine Form der Flucht, des Entkommens aus der Zeitenfalle. Und des Ankommens im Hier und Jetzt. Das trifft auch heute noch zu im jetzt schon 30sten Jahr ihres Bestehens. Die Zeit steht für einen Moment still. Lauscht man der Musik nur mit ausreichender Aufmerksamkeit und Lautstärke.

- 2LP+DL (schwarzes Vinyl in einem Gatefold-Sleeve mit MP3-Download-Code und einer geätzten Seite)

MAMMOTH is a grabber right out of the gate, every step they take is unleashed with deadly economical precision. They may flash on Lynyrd Skynyrd and other vintage southern rock traditions but the brilliant way the vocals are recorded and the to-the-point interlocking guitar moves will fire up anybody into any sort of hard rock. They can rip it up with hot leads, probably jammed out on these songs at live shows but lucky us, they laid them down for all times here with the sort of thought out unified force and construction that screams hit radio. Loads of personality, accessible, produced and mixed with the clarity of classic rock that never loses it's perfectly deployed impact. The uncluttered arrangements leave plenty of space, crafted with the kind of balanced mojo in the mix where every detail adds to the whole. Down and dirty but also achieving a universal pop-friendly appeal! The Mammoth LP was recorded in 1981 at Relayer Studios in DeLand, Florida with the two guitars, bass and drums quartet line-up sounding like it could have been a decade earlier. Buzz Fetters on lead guitar, Bill Abell on rhythm guitar, Joey Costa on bass and Ron Herman on drums… with everybody contributing to the vocals. Rather than having a strong up front emotive singer the lead vocals here are multi-tracked and integrated into the songs with plenty of attitude but also a genre-transcending presence… you can imagine the vocal ambience working in punk, glam, even psychedelic contexts. Mammoth have a sound informed by roots music but it is really in the rear-view mirror the way they roll. The songwriting here is terrific, they have a way of saying things that comes off as sincere but not too serious. You get plenty of in-your-face hard rock action but also several melodic tracks that have a more reflective charm to round out the trip. AND… when you hear their brilliant ode to southern rock titled "Southern Sounds" I challenge you to find any song about the subject more delightful. These guys keep it real, whether they're being bad ass or vulnerable they express themselves with 100% genuine feeling as contagious and life affirming as it gets!

"Against The Grain" is screechingly released hot on the heels of the previous years punk hit `No Control" which sold so many copies, why not keep the formula untouched? The exuberance of this release is kinda tuff ta" blow off. Contains the superior original version of "21st Century Digital Boy" plus 16 more crucial cuts. A barrage of melodic, hyper-overdrive.

Mount Jacinto is the creative vision of Costa Rican artist Sonya Carmona, formerly a member of Colornoise and Las Robertas. Inspired by the majestic Mount San Jacinto in Palm Springs and the expansive landscapes of Northern California, Sonya sought to embody a sense of freedom and openness in her new musical project.

The band lineup includes Gini Jungi of Annie Taylor on guitar, drummer Adrian Oesch, and a touch of Latin American flair with Peruvian Joel Morales on bass and Mexican Yan-Cey on synthesizer.

In their music, chamber music elements intertwine with gentle bass lines reminiscent of Air’s Moon Safari and melodic compositions rooted in raw alternative rock. Their debut EP, Outward Signs, released in March 2023, explores modern pop-rock psychedelia with a groovy touch of twang.

The album was recorded with JooJoo Ashworth from Froth and mixed by Alex Newport (Bloc Party etc.).
The title track, Silver Lining, is a standout on the album, showcasing the evolution of Mount Jacinto's sound over recent years. Sonya explains:
"This song is my favorite at the moment from the album. I think it kind of represents it well and reflects that there is always a 'Silver Lining' in everything, where something good can come from a difficult or bad situation. It’s very exciting to play it live and marks the evolution of our sound through this last year. It has its own character and creates its own sonic universe. It’s a homage to the synth wave era, a mix between Depeche Mode, Eurythmics, and Lebanon Hanover."

The debut album Silver Lining is more than a collection of songs—it’s a deeply personal journey through love, loss, and self-discovery. Created during a period of transformation in Sonya Carmona's life, it captures raw emotions and the resilience required to find one’s true self. Tracks like Forest delve into the path to self-acceptance and the importance of confronting inner struggles, whileThe Reason explores the inner dialogues we have during pivotal moments. The album blends heartfelt, intimate lyrics with lush, soulful soundscapes.
Musically, Silver Lining combines classic 60s and 70s influences with a modern indie vibe. It reflects the profound changes Carmona has experienced, offering listeners a moving musical journey.

lim. to 200 180Gr Vinyl!

Schnieke is rich and fruitful, yet carries a sadness within. A 5-string violin charts its melodious journey from Istanbul to Belin, accompanied by electronics, breakbeats, live drums and percussions. An authentic oriental funky mood keeps you in a trance or gets your body moving tribally…

This is Schnieke, a.k.a. Özgür Akgül, with his first studio album Hediye, or Gift. The album is intended as a gift to Özgür's grandmother, Hadiye, who was very important to him and to whom he dedicates a song. But his debut album will also come as a gift to anyone interested in how a sophisticated musical sensibility brings together electronic elements with stringed instruments of all kinds. Özgür plays the violins himself, as well as the analogue synths and drum machines. Guest musicians include Hasan Gözetlik (trumpet and trombone), Göksun Çavdar (saxophone), Korhan Erol (electric guitar and bass), Burhan Hasdemir and Baris Güney (live percussion), Zafer Tunç Resuloglu (live drums), John Gürtler (church organ) and the Istanbul Strings, Turkey’s most vibrant string ensemble.

Their diverse influences create a wide emotional range on Hediye - sometimes dark and melancholic, sometimes wild, groovy and danceable, somewhere between jazz, dub and electro, each song surprising in its own way. Despite the variety of the individual songs, a captivating pulse runs like a thread through Schnieke's first album. Incidentally, Özgür came up with the band name during a night out in a bar, when a friend explained to him what Berlin slang he absolutely had to know. He liked the sound of the word ‘schnieke’ – it means something approximating ‘snazzy’ - and perhaps he secretly also wanted to flatter himself a little! Well, shouldn't we all do that much more often?

Hediye consists of eight tracks, three of which are traditional: Aman Doktor comes from Istanbul, Özgür's birthplace, and is a homage to his own origins. Kadioglu comes from the Aegean region and features the zeybek dance form which, despite its ‘standardisation’ in recent times, still summons up the ecstasy, inspired improvisation and musical finesse of its historical roots. The other five tracks are Özgür's own compositions, with Pasali providing the soundtrack for the 2010 Turkish feature film Memleket Meselesi. Creating compositions for film has been Özgür’s primary passion since his time as a student at the Filmakademie Baden-Württemberg. You can hear that in his music, because on his debut album Özgür does completely without vocal support, the instrumental depth stands for itself, and, in the style of The Cinematic Orchestra, space is created for us to develop our own images while listening – it is a soundtrack for the film we want to make of it.

This 1986 album by The Primates remain as the only recording ever released by these four 60s r&b and garage fans. Originally published on Greg Shaw's very own Voxx (Bomp! sublabel focused on revival garage/psychedelia) and produced by Shaw himself, this valuable musical document that portraits the essence of the L.A. 80s garage scene, has been out of print for more than 20 years! So we thought it would be a perfect record to reissue as part of our Bomp! reissue series. The Primates were formed in 1984 and cut their teeth at L.A. spots such as the Cavern Club, as part of a growing scene of devoted Nuggets/Pebbles fans, fascinated with 1960s garage punk classics. The core of the band were Brett Miller and Ted Edlefsen, sporting Vox guitars, and Erik Bluhm as front man, with different drummers, mostly Brian Corrigan but then also Eric from Threw the Looking Glass and Gene from The Miracle Workers. The opener 'I Ain't Like You', 'Bad Luck' or the fun cover of Neil Sedaka's 'I Go Ape' reflect the wild, party-driven mood of the entire album, making you wonder how crazy their shows were in the golden era of the L.A. 80s garage scene. Combining originals and versions (check their great take on Q65's 'I Got Nightmares'), "We Are The Primates" remains as a wild, raw, party album that every fan of garage music should own. Munster is thrilled to reissue this essential '80s garage gem as part of a series of releases celebrating Bomp! 50th anniversary. Our issue includes a booklet with liner notes and rare photos and ephemera.

Ltd Silver Vinyl, DL card. From a long-forgotten trunk; two extended jams, twin slabs, circa 1989. Continuing Fire Records' series of classic remastered albums from Royal Trux, 'Hand Of Glory' is released on silver vinyl. This bad-ass black, white and blue magic is a kind of Burial Dub_ or so preached the sleeve of 'Hand Of Glory' on its original release in 2002. Legend has it, the two sides of this 40-minute gem were recorded between 1985 and 1989. The resultant mountain of creativity from where they hail were inevitably left under a scuzzy sofa as life and a career that ebbed and flowed over nine albums. Royal Trux became an inspirational tipping point for everyone from Pavement & Sonic Youth to the Black Keys, Kurt Cobain, The Avalanches & Hot Chip's Alexis Taylor. "I urge and encourage you to enter the harmolodic multiverse of their music." Alexis Taylor, Hot Chip. 'Hand Of Glory' is not like their other albums but then again none of their albums are alike, it's a two-faced masterpiece. Side one's 'Domo Des Burros'/'Two Sticks' is on par with Beefheart's sprawling 'Trout Mask Replica'. It plays out in 19 minutes, sounding like it was laid down on Warhol's sofa in The Factory; like Dylan's sprawling 'Desolation Row' with, background squalls, interruptions and both Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema's overlayed stream of consciousness peeping through a multi-layered backdrop. It's just staggering. "Royal Trux were nothing if not fearless." Pitchfork. Side two's 'The Boxing Story', a loose homage to William Burroughs, moulds and morphs from tape to tape, a multi-speed soundtrack, while the dynamic duo press pause, guitars ring, occasional melodic lines arrive and evaporate. Lou Reed's pastoral 'Metal Machine Music' could perhaps be recognized as an older and perhaps less challenging sibling. A two-sided masterpiece featuring two wayward pieces of creative genius.

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

Top-Livealbum des ehemaligen The Stranglers-Frontmanns Hugh Cornwell, das auf den UK-Touren nach seinem 10. Soloalbum "Moments Of Madness" (2022) aufgenommen wurde. Als Hofdichter der Punk-Ära zeichnete er für die denkwürdigsten Songs der Stranglers verantwortlich, samt des Überhits "Golden Brown", dessen vielfältige Textdeutungen eine Meisterklasse des Songwritings sind. Das Doppelalbum enthält Livesongs aus allen Epochen, darunter Stranglers-Klassiker wie "Skin Deep", "Always The Sun" & "Strange Little Girl", die 2CD kommt mit 4 weiteren Bonustracks, darunter "Nice'n'Sleazy" & "(Get A) Grip (On Yourself)".