Search:the gentle people

“Upopo Sanke“ means “Let's sing a song" in the Ainu language. Umeko Ando (1932-2004) was one of the best-known artists of the Ainu, an indigenous, long-suppressed community in northern Japan. She sings their traditional songs together with Oki Kano on the Tonkori harp, who also recorded the album. The two are supported by members of the female vocal group Marewrew as well as Ainu percussionists, a string player and a male singer who provides rhythmic shouts and also throat singing. The call-and-response structure of many of the songs is performed with a mantric quality in a vocal style that is perhaps best described as elastic and breathing. There seems to be a gentle smile in every note and syllable. This music softly hits the heart.

Upopo Sanke was recorded on a farm in Tokachi in the summer of 2003. We hear dogs barking, a distant thunderstorm and voices imitating animals. The liner notes that accompany the 2LP release gather the anecdotal memories of Umeko Ando and Oki Kano about the stories of the 14 songs. Oki Kano is a musical ambassador of the Ainu culture who tours worldwide with his Oki Dub Ainu Band and also gives solo concerts, always playing the Tonkori, the five-stringed Ainu harp.

The Ainu have suffered from the oppression of their culture and language by Japan, especially since the 18th and 19th centuries. Only recently, in 2008, were the Ainu officially recognized again as an indigenous people culturally independent of Japan. As a result of the marginalization, there are now only a few hundred native speakers of the Ainu language left, making it a particularly worthy object of preservation.

"Upopo Sanke" was mixed again in part by Oki Kano, before being mastered and cut to vinyl by Kassian Troyer. The 2LP plays on 45rpm and it sounds fantastic. This album was the second album by Umeko Ando, the follow-up to „Ihunke" and also re-released in 2018 by Pingipung together with Oki Kano.

Selected Songs 1997-2003 compiles some of the finest moments in the recording history of Hydroplane, the Melbourne-based indie-pop three-piece that operated alongside The Cat’s Miaow through the second half of the nineties. It’s the third release in what feels, now, like a loosely planned series by World Of Echo, documenting the music made by this group of friends in Melbourne sharehouses (The Cat’s Miaow’s Songs ’94-’98, 2022), or in the case of The Shapiros (Gone By Fall, 2023), while traversing the International Pop Underground.

Hydroplane would be familiar to anyone already following these breadcrumb trails – Andrew Withycombe, Bart Cummings and Kerrie Bolton were the group’s core, all members of The Cat’s Miaow. With Cat’s Miaow drummer Cameron Smith itinerant, having moved to London, the trio used this opportunity to expand their music. It’s a subtle, but important shift. If The Cat’s Miaow was about the perfect, minimalist, two-minute pop song, Hydroplane’s music was far more open-ended, embracing the loops and drones, sampled house-y shuffle beats, the burbling of a Roland Jupiter-4 synth, all of which the trio joined, effortlessly, to their endless capacity for moving, elegant melodicism.

They may have only planned to release one seven-inch single, but the sound Hydroplane created was so bewitching, so compelling, that the project’s lifespan ran for around half a decade, and they ended up releasing three albums, including a self-titled debut recently reissued by Efficient Space, and seven singles. There are all kinds of compelling things happening in the music compiled here – the hazy repetition of the gentler side of Krautrock is in here, somewhere, which also suggests Stereolab at their most intimate and disarmed; the gently drifting guitars, gauzy and oneiric, set the songs adrift and floating, each one lost in its own imagined, distracted world. Songs like “The Love You Bring” set indistinct tonal floats across dance rhythms, in a way not quite heard since My Bloody Valentine’s “Instrumental” – but with the added gift of Bolton’s gorgeous voice.

This loose coalition with dance music, and the quiet experimentalism at the heart of Hydroplane, also gestures towards peers like Hood, Acetate Zero and Other People’s Children, and releases on renegade labels like Wurlitzer Jukebox and Enraptured. Like those groups and labels, The Cat’s Miaow were reconciling independent pop music’s past – sweet melody and melancholy, chiming and droning guitars – with the futures promised by DIY electronics and nascent digitalia, the interface of indie and IDM that led to some of the underground’s most blissful, texturally swoonsome music. All that is here, but also, the poise of the melodies is pure Cat’s Miaow, though, with Bolton’s voice sailing, pacifically, over some of the most pared-down, gorgeous music made during their decade.

It was a time, too, when such music could make waves – “We Crossed The Atlantic”, one of their early singles, was picked up by John Peel, who played it repeatedly on his legendary radio show, the song reaching #13 on his 1997 Festive 50. That the song itself was a cover of a tune by 1960s Australian beatnik-pop-poet Pip Proud felt even more perfect – a group of outsiders paying tribute to another outsider, played on the radio one of the few broadcasters brave and human enough to take a chance on this music. But it was a time where everything was up for grabs, and genres were flowing into each other: folk songs went drone; indie re-discovered noise; ambient pop floated, again, out onto the dancefloor. And while they may have been sequestered away in Melbourne, Australia, Hydroplane felt core to that scene, a quietly driving force.

Compiling material from across their brief but mercurial career, this double album perfectly captures the magic and mystery of Hydroplane’s dreamlike, perfect pop songs.

The Sun Makers (written by Robert Holmes) aired in November and December of 1977 with Tom Baker as the Doctor and is set on a tax-crippled planet Pluto. Along with trusty assistant Leela and faithful K9, he exposes the corrupt Company, defeating the Collector and freeing the population from financial misery.

Composer Dudley Simpson (1922-2017) wrote prolifically for the BBC, producing hundreds of soundtracks for Doctor Who, The Tomorrow People, Blake’s Seven and many others. The Sun Makers was scored for just six musicians and recorded, for the main part, live in the studio. However, such is the musicianship of the players, several of whom where multi-instrumentalists, the resulting sound is much bigger. The sleeve includes full notes by Mark Ayres.

The Sun Makers (written by Robert Holmes) aired in November and December of 1977 with Tom Baker as the Doctor and is set on a tax-crippled planet Pluto. Along with trusty assistant Leela and faithful K9, he exposes the corrupt Company, defeating the Collector and freeing the population from financial misery.

Composer Dudley Simpson (1922-2017) wrote prolifically for the BBC, producing hundreds of soundtracks for Doctor Who, The Tomorrow People, Blake’s Seven and many others. The Sun Makers was scored for just six musicians and recorded, for the main part, live in the studio. However, such is the musicianship of the players, several of whom where multi-instrumentalists, the resulting sound is much bigger. The sleeve includes full notes by Mark Ayres.

*REISSUED ON LIMITED EDITION BLUE VINYL*

London-based electronic songwriter Ryan Lee West aka Rival Consoles to release his most personal work to date in the form of a mini-album titled ‘Night Melody’ through Erased Tapes on 5th August 2016. During the release of his acclaimed full-length album ‘Howl’ and heavy touring in late 2015, Ryan came out of a 13-year long relationship and found himself making music throughout the winter months. The result of his efforts is a 34-minute, 6-track mini album ‘Night Melody’, born out of and shaped by long hours working into the night. It’s nocturnal in sound; mysterious in the way that the early hours so often are.

“I found myself, in a silent home, with the days getting dark very early. I’ve never before in my life been affected by the lack of light so much. I just remember it always being night time. I would either make music into the night, go out drinking with friends, or go to parties and dance into the early hours, every day, week after week, month after month, until eventually the days became brighter again.” The opening statement ‘Pattern of the North’ starts off with a collage of spliced synth melodies, inspired by anxiety that accompanies going home for Christmas. It’s followed by ‘Johannesburg’, an early sketch gradually filled out during his tour in South Africa.


“After playing it around some of the cities, I got a lot of inspiration to bring it to life and push it into something that really moves me. I think this is one of my most colourful pieces of music, with its driving rhythm and almost a homage to Terry Riley’s ‘In C’ towards the end, with a build of very simple, hypnotic parts. I especially love that for over five minutes the piece is tied to just one note. This makes the ending very dramatic, because all of a sudden there is this harmonic change.” ‘Lone’ started life around the time Ryan was working on his ‘Sonne’ EP in 2014. It’s the result of constant adjustments to find the perfect balance of fragility and assurance. As everything on the album, it’s a carefully considered, emotionally mature piece. “I think, as I get older, I need music to represent something and not just sound interesting, though of course the two are connected.” The closing statement ‘What Sorrow’ is a fitting end to the album, building from gentle melancholia to a joyous crescendo. It’s a sensibility that’s central to the record; joy and sorrow both find their counterpoints.


“This record is very personal to me and I hope it offers something for other people, as it helped me to make it and to listen to it. Almost every synth line was recorded intuitively, without perfection but with a lot of intention and expression. I’m not interested in making something sad or making something happy. I want music to be bittersweet, to be more complex, like life – containing moments of vibrant colour and hope, as much as darkness and sadness.” This summer will see Ryan follow on from his recent North American Tour with the appearance at many festivals including Lovebox, Secret Garden Party, La Route Du Rock, Sea Change and Tale of Us-curated Afterlife party at Space, Ibiza.

In an era defined by futility, isolation, and precarity, it can be difficult to envision a utopia. But on Skeleten’s thrilling, immersive debut album, Under Utopia, the Sydney musician dares to imagine new ways of being that are not characterized by doom or despair. Across eleven tracks of free-flowing, transcendent, and often euphoric electronic music, Skeleten praises the power of comradery and community; while dreaming of a future that is joyously boundless. 



Skeleten, real name Russell Fitzgibbon, has always been fascinated by the ideas of utopias. He’s thought a lot about how the concept has shifted and morphed throughout history, and how the goal post for a utopia is always moving further and further away. “We're more familiar with the idea of a dystopia in the modern world - that's more close to our consciousness. I think on this album I wanted to explore the importance of imaging and embodying a new world.”

Written before and during the pandemic, the album was born out of a desire to connect with others and to shake the mantle of introspection that had been placed on his previous works. From the opening notes of the otherworldly album opener “Generator”, it's clear that this record prioritises immediate pleasures without forgoing intimacy. The lyrics are also more explicit, reaching outward with inviting choruses and mantra-like melodies. “I think the album came out of the experience of feeling this great desire to reconnect and dreaming of the power of community,” says the musician.

This is especially present in lead single ‘Sharing The Fire’, a song that crackles with optimism. A sprawling dance track with pulsating synths and Fitzgibbon’s gentle, warm vocals, the song is about futures that are full of brightness and bliss. As the artist repeats in the song’s chorus: “for all that you know, summer could be around the corner.” The song is about an “almost frustrated desire to connect with more people and feel that sense of community through shared goals.” The accompanying video clip, shot on 35mm, is similarly invested in ideas of companionship and gathering. Shot in a clinical, drab office space, friends and revelers fill the space with warmth and energy.

Elsewhere, this invocation of paradise is infused in the stripped-back, singular title track “Under Utopia”. The song was significant to Fitzgibbon, as it allowed him to gather all his thoughts and ideas about his new music under one message. “It’s something I wrote when I had this collection of songs and wanted to give it a single voice, which was about seeing the world entirely new, full of hope and beauty, and all of us underneath pushing it upwards.” 

An antidote for gloom presented in Under Utopia is the transformative power of love. There’s “Heart Full Of Tenderness”, a woozy, languorous love song, awash with cloudy vocals and glistening synths; the truncated beats and hypnotic pleading of “Territory Day” and “Right Here It’s Only Love” which explores the icier and ambient side of R’n’B.


Another hallmark that characterizes Under Utopia is Fitzgibbon’s airy and spacious mix, which gives his songs room to sprawl out and simmer; as well as allowing his calming baritone to come to the fore. This is notable in the contemplative, synth-laden “Colour Room”, the funk-tinged “Walking On Your Name,” the previously released “No Drones in the Afterlife,” and the beloved early single “Mirrored,” which speaks of finding yourself through a connection to those around you.

Fitzgibbon has been enmeshed in the Sydney music scene for years. Skeleten emerged out of a need to experiment and make music without worrying about the outcome. “It was just me making music that felt right, and very much focusing on this kind of meditative aspect of exploring without any goal,” says Fitzgibbon. But as the project has evolved, the artist has gained clarity on what he hopes his music will achieve: bringing people together, and creating an atmosphere of elation. Or as Fitzgibbon puts it on Under Utopia’s hallucinatory album closer “We’re gonna get everything we need in the world.”

»Picture a Frame,« the debut album by the Belgian composer Elisabeth Klinck, was born out of strict isolation and is nonetheless a result of a collaborative process that saw her working closely with artist Oscar Claus. Enriching her compositions for violin with electronic soundscapes and field recordings from their surroundings, the two entered an artistic dialogue that took place inside its own idiosyncratic space outside of conventional time. It is an intimate record in which Klinck’s expressive playing that incorporates unconventional techniques forms the basis of something much bigger: an invitation to inhabit a specific space at a specific time together with the two of them.

For an entire week in the spring of 2021, Klinck and Claus stayed at an abandoned monastery surrounded by beautiful gardens, but with no power or running water. The intention was to record some of Klinck’s musical ideas on violin, experiment with electronics and acoustic spaces and to get to know each other on a musical level. This proved to be an inspiring and deeply moving process—and the starting point for more. In the winter of that year, the duo set out to the Spanish Pyrenees to build a DIY studio in a small village on a mountain top and record the eight pieces that form »Picture a Frame.« The idea of losing track of time and space is a theme that found its way in these recordings. The two spent their days and nights reading, walking, talking, cooking and taking care of the animals living there but also experimenting with sound, improvising together and making field recordings.

This deep focus on being present in the moment, listening to the world around them and each other resulted in a holistic experience that was translated into music and sound. Klinck and Claus understand this album as a collage, an attempt to evoke the implicit, an essay that suggests a time and space, and a gentle collision between two people that deeply resonate with one another. It’s impossible to argue with that, and even harder not to be drawn into it.

After a creative break of more than 10 years finally the comeback: In line with the long-awaited new album called "An Excellent Spiritual Serviceman" a limited colored vinyl reissue of the classic Contemporary Noise Ensemble debut record "Pig Inside The Genleman" from 2006.

"Jazz music without jazz, film music without movie but something splendid instead! Despite the band's name suggesting noisy music for the chosen ones, Contemporary Noise Ensemble appears to be a revelation for everyone. Beautiful, hard, romantic piano tunes in the dialogue with brass section. Simple and extraordinary emotional compositions leading to the climax which makes the flesh creeps while listening. Hair bristle on the heads of those who remember the musical past of the The Contemporary Noise Ensemble members..."

"The Contemporary Noise Ensemble impresses with maturity and class. There's elegance as well as punk energy. The compositions are unbelievably spacious but on the other hand all fulfilled with instruments - from the superb rhythm combo to the greatly equipped brass section. The roots of the most of The Contemporary Noise Ensemble musicians reach harder music, sometimes even heavy metal what bears excellent interest. The compositions are vigorous and expressive. The name of the band must be remembered because it undoubtedly is Polish export commodity."

"There’s no doubt that the Contemporary Noise Ensemble is one of the most fascinating musical projects from Poland which catches the attention of both pure jazz fans and people who are interested in experimental instrumental music in general. For fans of Cinematic Orchestra & jazz influenced film sounds."

Veteran artist Sebra Cruz releases his debut album ‘Don't Worry Psy Happy’ on DJ Tennis’ revered Life & Death imprint. The daring eleven track LP is as experimental as it is definitive and encapsulates the Italian spirit in perfect style.

The LP follows two previously teased singles; ‘Margaret’, an ode to Cruz’ girlfriend which is a deeply passionate and expressive melodic house offering and album title ‘Don’t Worry Psy Happy’ a hedonistic, tripped out soundscape.
The lead track ‘Sunfish’ is a melange of powerful synths overlaid with sporadic vocals and a swinging breakbeat which make the record the perfect soundtrack for early morning dancefloor euphoria.

The album continues its genreless motif and is hard to pin down. It broaches a variety of styles including cinematic and ambient leaning sonics such as ‘Optimist’ and ‘Poliziesco’, the latter which includes Gabriele Fabbri’s atmospheric guitar riff throughout.

‘The Siebel Road To Mars’ is a similarly powerful yet emotive record which samples current Italian President Sergio Mattarella between the piano and the extraterrestrial sound palette. Continuing with the more abstract tracks ‘Flying Junior’, which was named after Cruz’ own sailboat, emulates the peacefulness and tranquillity of the sea. It’s yet another reflection of Sebra Cruz’ artistic personality.

Juxtaposing the calm and serene records from the album, ‘AltreCose’, inspired by the energy of the Neapolitan people during Sebra’s DJing residency in the 90s, is a more high energy disco-infused record. Similarly ‘When Life Was Slow’, released on Life & Death back in 2020, is another upbeat dance interpretation and a tribute to Cruz’ passion for Italian composers from the 60s and 70s.

Speaking about the album Sebra says: “What emerges is in my opinion an album with predominantly Italian spirit, disco, house with both edgy and gentle influences. I never decide what to do first, I simply follow my spur of the moment instinct. Releasing an album for Life & Death is cool because I've always had huge respect for Manfredi.”

Sebra Cruz and DJ Tennis have a long lasting and trusting collaborative relationship exhibited by the former's numerous releases on Tennis’ Life and Death label. DJ Tennis’ encyclopaedic musical brain and shared passion for Italian composers perfectly complements Sebra’s stylings.

Striking an impeccable balance between abstract and obscure sonics and more methodical and conventional melodies, 'Don't Worry Psy Happy’ is a body of work that exquisitely expresses Sebra Cruz’ personality via different worlds and mediums.

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

BLUE & BONE VINYL

Eric D. Johnson rarely lingers at one location too long. As a kid growing up in the Midwest, Johnson's family moved around a lot, but it wasn't until he became a touring musician years later that motion became a central part of his identity. That transient lifestyle stoked an enduring reverence for the world he watched pass by through a van window. A sense of place is a unifying theme he's revisited with Fruit Bats throughout its many lives. From the project's origins in the late '90s as a vehicle for Johnson's lo-fi tinkering to the more sonically ambitious work of recent years, Fruit Bats has often showcased love songs where people and locations meld into one. It's a loose song structure that navigates what he calls "the geography of the heart." "The songs exist in a world that you can sort of travel from one to another," says Johnson. "There are roads and rivers between these songs." Those pathways extend straight through the newest Fruit Bats album, aptly titled A River Running to Your Heart . Self-produced by Johnson_a first for Fruit Bats_with Jeremy Harris at Panoramic House just north of San Francisco, it's Fruit Bats' tenth full-length release and one that finds the project in the middle of a creative resurgence. After two decades of making music, hard-earned emotional maturity has seeped into Johnson's songs, resulting in a more complex sound that's connected with audiences like no other previous version of Fruit Bats. A River Running to Your Heart represents the fullest realization of that creative vision to date. It's a sonically diverse effort that largely explores the importance of what it means to be home, both physically and spiritually. And while that might seem like a peculiar focus for an artist who's constantly in motion, for Fruit Bats, home can take many forms_from the obvious to the obscure. Lead single "Rushin' River Valley" is a self-propelled love song written about Johnson's wife that clings to the borrowed imagery of the place where she grew up in northern California. Then, there's the gentle and unfussy acoustic ballad "We Used to Live Here," which looks back to a time of youthful promise and cheap rent. But the wistful "It All Comes Back" is perhaps the most stunning and surprising track on the album, Johnson's production skills on full display. Built upon intricate layers of synths, keyboards, and guitars, it's a pitch-perfect blend of tone and lyricism that taps into our shared apprehensions and hopes for a post-pandemic life. "We lost some time / But we can make it back / Let's take it easy on ourselves, okay?" sings a world-weary but ultimately reassuring Johnson in the song's opening lines. It's the kind of performance that makes you hope Fruit Bats stays in this one place, at least for a little while longer.

Balearic believers rejoice! Japanese tropical-fusioneers Coastlines are back with the worldwide vinyl release of Coastlines 2. The follow-up to their classic debut, this is the sound of Coastlines's global influences. If the dedication to intricate sonic details is particularly Japanese, the overarching feel captures the sprawling grandeur of the international balearic community. As they put it, Coastlines 2 presents "a more precise and beautifully polished magic hour." If that isn't Balearic, we don't know what is.

Takumi Kaneko and Masanori Ikeda don’t radically alter their sumptuous template with this second LP; and we wouldn't want them to. Yet with a more focused flow from first track to last, both Coastlines and Be With feel this is an even stronger album than their first. One thing that hasn't changed is the use of instrumentals instead of words to express their themes; namely, "the emotional expression of being soaked."

Opener "Tenderly" is appropriately titled, a gentle Latin shuffle easing you back into the Coastlines sound. An organ-heavy synthy exotica that's in step with Lovelock's contemporaneous "Washington Park". Their über-horizontal take on Hawkshaw & Bennett's "Mile High Swinger" (from Synthesiser And Percussion, reissued by Be With!) evokes cocktails-by-the-pool as the sun slowly sets. The blunted deep jazz-funk swing of "Alicia" is a rearranged reimagining of the Gabor Szabo song from his classic Jazz Raga LP. This here sounds like an outtake from The Chronic.

As the sun goes down, "Combustione Lenta" soundtracks the relaxing slow burn of an idyllic bonfire on an isolated beach. Displaying a beautiful new side of Coastlines, we're treated to Moments In Love vibes and melancholic guitar arcs. The piano-laden early morning wonder of "Night Cruise" started life as a completely different song, but the duo found a particularly good loop from the initial sketch and reconstructed it into this sophisticated 80s instrumental soul groove. "Waves And Rays" is all undulating acid waves and lighthouse light. A chopped and screwed steel drum G-Funk with soaring synths and nods toward the squelchy machine soul of Mtume and Jam & Lewis. Yes, *that* good.

The bouncy futureboogie cosmic chug of "Sky Island" represents the beginning of the sunrise, casting images of 80s Japanese fusion and definitely one to play out early doors to get the crowd stepping. "Area Code 868" is the strutting staccato sound of Joe Sample waking up in the Caribbean to craft his piano funk drenched in sunshine. Accordingly, the tentative, naive melodies of "Sand Steps" represent that vivid feeling first thing in the morning, as you step on to the sandy beach in the sunshine and take a deep breath. The world is yours.

The emotional, organ-piano-steel drum-driven "Song For My Mother" is a slo-mo show of sincere gratitude to all the great mothers. "Yasmin's Theme" is Coastlines's Brazilian homage, recalling for them that early summer feeling. It's propelled laconically by the carnival beat of batucada`s big bass surdo drum and complimented by sweeps of warm keys and radiant vocal harmonies. Blissful beatless closer "Asafuji" conjures a scene from a wonderful morning spent with the people of Shizuoka, the symbolic mountain of Japan, Mt Fuji and its inhabitants. It sounds like Dâm-FunK jamming with Sabres Of Paradise.

Coastlines 2 was painstakingly crafted, across the pandemic, at Masanori's rented place in Tokyo and then brought back to his home studio and worked on slowly and repeatedly. With limited time to see each other, the duo became more united in their "consciousness with natural progress."

Mastered by Simon Francis and cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios, this magnificent double LP has been pressed by the good people at Record Industry.

Steve Gunn has always had one foot in indie rock and the other in an expansive improvisational scene. His songwriter albums alternate with freewheeling jams, most notably in his Gunn-Truscinski Duo, but are not confined to that. So when Gunn decided to revisit Other You, it made sense that he brought in some guests from the far side of the commercial/experimental spectrum to reimagine his songs. Nakama presents five tracks from that last album, reshaped by artists that Gunn admires. The process loosens the songs up considerably.

To start, he calls in Mdou Moctar’s backing band (the American bassist Mikey Coltun and the other guitarist Ahmoudou Madassane) for “Protection.” The song already had a bit of blues-y swagger to it, with sharper-edged guitar rhythms also heard on the ultra-smooth Other You, but here the heat has an otherworldly desert sheen. Its caravan-traveling rhythm sways from side to side, digging in to to the upbeats in a way that is both kinetic and also hypnotically still. There’s some crowd noise in the background, the knot of people that regularly forms when Mdou and his compatriots plug in from Agadez, and a few mournful afro-blues licks arcing off the vamp. But mostly it’s a cut that reminds you how much African guitar music Gunn has absorbed (listen to “Tommy’s Congo” from Way Out Weather for proof), and how well it fits with what he does.

Gunn also brings in Circuit Des Yeux’s Haley Fohr to reconfigure “Ever Feel That Way,” and she sets the song’s drifting melancholy amid pensive minor-key piano chords. She strips back the ambient whoosh that surrounds the original, slows down the pace and presents the song in startling, unadorned clarity. Her version removes some of the sticky, over-prettiness that I found so distracting in Other You. The melody is better, purer and more focused without the frills. There is also an electronic remake of “Reflection” from David Moore’s ambient ensemble Bing and Ruth, which traps Gunn’s fragile vocals in a shivering palace of synthetic tones. It’s enjoyable in its way, but the two sensibilities never quite meld together.

The best part comes when Gunn joins forces with Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society in remakes of “Good Wind” and “On the Way.” The former is a matter of subtle differences: the gentle pitch and roll under Gunn’s voice, the intermittent liquid runs of bass between widely spaced phrases. Abrams and his crew open up the jazz-leaning, reiterative possibilities under Gunn’s song, but they don’t change it fundamentally. “On the Way” is even stronger, a glowing drone and a pattern of hand drums enveloping the melody. It makes the music seem more spiritual, more resonant, more deep and full of mysteries. It was striking enough that I had to go back to Other You to hear again an album that had left me cold. This new version of “On the Way” didn’t change that chill, but it gave me an idea of how strong the songs might have sounded in another setting. (by Jennifer Kelly)

The Decades Collected compilations are part of the Collected compilation series, which is a collaboration between Universal Music and Music On Vinyl. The compilations bring together the biggest names of each decade, combined with forgotten hits and less discovered gems, giving the listener an experience of listening to their favourite tunes while uncovering new musical grounds at the same time.

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Dark Green Vinyl

American singer-songwriter, poet, and photographer Thomas Meluch, known musically as Benoît Pioulard, returns with his most structured and vocal release to date. Titled »Eidetic,« a word denoting the ability to recall mental images with extraordinarily rich precision, the album presents unprecedented clarity and vitality for Benoît Pioulard. To access its thematic ground, Meluch looked inward with an affinity towards the people he loves during a period marked by his move from Seattle to Brooklyn in 2019. The resulting work engages with the universe's unflinching mortality and, as he says, »the ways it has modified and improved my relationships, especially with family.« Embodied by the creek, leaves, and ferns of the cover photography — taken in Michigan’s Burchfield Park, where he and his dad used to hike and »muse on existence« — the music glistens and unfurls with the flow of life he’s come to know. »Eidetic« is the culmination of Meluch's craft both as a producer and writer. An evocative sonic vocabulary meets deft lyrical introspection, articulated with the nuance, vulnerability, and confidence of a longtime artist hitting a stride.

Meluch has continually refined, redefined, and adjusted the focus of his gentle pop project over the last 20 years. Recorded primarily with guitar, tapes, and voice — and spanning labels with albums for Kranky, Morr Music, Beacon Sound, and Past Inside the Present — his catalog flows seamlessly between ambient improvisation and pop composition. Much like the analog photos that often accompany his releases, songs can feel dreamily softened and distant, and others beautifully vivid and detailed. 2021 full-length »Bloodless« found Meluch deep in droning decay, expressive yet wordless. With »Eidetic,« he swings back to sharpened forms. Lush banks of treated guitar and synth brush against hushed percussion; there is mist in the distance, but everything up close is intricately constructed and radiant. Meluch's voice is notably forward in the mix — a warm and calming tenor, a harmonic coo more than a whisper — ever-observant and actively processing.

To record much of the album, Meluch filled a cabin in rural Maine with his usual setup of simple percussion, a couple of Fender electrics, and a parlor guitar made by his friend who does bespoke luthier work. The modest utility is what he knows best, and here he pushes the output to its most pristine potential.

»Eidetic« opens in a swirl of familiar haze; »Margaret Murie« eases listeners in, as lush and verdant as the landscapes conserved by its famed namesake. With the setting established, Meluch, the narrator, enters the foreground with »Crux,« a tender piece written about finding new motivations in a new city. »We covet this rare green hue / Here at the farthest point from home,« he sings above a reassuring pattern of strums and percussion. Meluch's prose shines on the swiftly-moving »Nameless,« inspired by the neurological effects that came with the antiquated practice of manufacturing mercury mirrors; »folks would slowly go insane while looking into their own reflections every day,« he adds. The idea informs a series of surreal abstractions before everything drops out in the final minute, and we are left free-floating in eerie nothingness.

Across the album, labyrinthine lyrical ponderings scatter with dazzling imagery, artfully blurring scenes from world history with Meluch's more personal, present-day. The propulsive and earnest »Thursday Night« catches his mind overly active and too stoned, riffing on black holes and songwriting itself. »Halve« references the splitting of the atom, what he considers »the beginning of man's downfall,« and the unrealized initiative proposed by the US government that would have created 'nuclear refuges' in its national parks. Meluch's loved ones weave throughout; »Tet« holds his father's experience in Vietnam and its lasting effects. »Lillian Isola« touches on his maternal grandmother's spinal curvature, and »Pastel Dust« navigates the wake of his cat, who died on New Year's Eve 2020.

At first blush, Meluch's atmospheric and melodic sensibilities resonate purely in their own right. Upon closer meditation, his ability to render stories — many of which surround human tragedy, misfortune, and understanding — through the prism of his poetry makes »Eidetic« even more rewarding.

Tricky is back. Back with a new studio album, False Idols, and his own label (also bearing the False Idols name), but also back in a personal sense. I was lost for ages, he says. I was trying to prove something to people, trying to do something to please other people and also myself at the same time, which is never going to work. To be honest with you, Ive been floating around since Chris Blackwell and Island. My last two albums, I thought they were good, but I realise now they werent. This album is about me finding myself again.
It opens with a cover of a Van Morrison song, Somebodys Sins, which sees Tricky and vocalist Francesca Belmonte whispering Jesus died for somebodys sins, but not mine over a sparse groaning bass. The lead single Parenthesis, which features a vocals from Peter Silberman of The Antlers, has more rhythmic grunt, which gives a different dimension to the dark gothic atmosphere that pervades the record. No-one does this kind of thing better.
The resemblance to Maxinquaye is undeniable, though the material on False Idols is gentler; more mature. Many of the songs feature artists signed to Trickys new label, including 24-year Londoner Francesca Belmonte and Fifi Rong. The album also includes collaborations with Nigeria's new global star Nneka, the afore-mentioned Peter Silberman. In the months before the albums release, False Idols will also release an EP "Matter of Time" showcasing the labels roster on new non-album material produced by Tricky.
Why the name False Idols Because theres so much bollocks going on at the moment mate, Tricky fires back. People follow celebrities and read every little thing they do. Its living vicariously through someone else. Get your own life. All this stuff is false idols. In this new album Ill stand behind every track, Tricky says. I dont care whether people like it. Im doing what I want to do, which is what I did with my first record. Thats what made me who I was in the beginning. If people dont like it, it dont matter to me because Im back where I was.

Steve Moore's Lovelock is back with Washington Park, a gorgeous suite of instrumental lounge music that can only be described as synth exotica. A real departure for Steve, this is a more mellow, soothing sound and can be regarded as Lovelock's response to these dystopian times.

New York-based multi-instrumentalist/producer/film composer Steve Moore is probably best known for his synthesizer and bass guitar work as Zombi, together with Anthony Paterra. Yet his Lovelock alias has been quietly blowing minds and warming hearts for a decade plus now. His latest effort, Washington Park, was not initially meant to be a Lovelock album. But Steve was posting little snippets of his work on Instagram and people started asking him: "is this new Lovelock?" It was at this point that Steve had an epiphany, of sorts. "It occurred to me that Lovelock can be whatever I want it to be. So yeah, maybe this new lounge/exotica record is, in fact, Lovelock."

Washington Park creeped out in a very low-key, early lockdown fashion and there wasn't much of a reaction. Says Steve, "I just self-released it and all my usual suspects were down with it, but it didn't really make it outside of my own circle." Yet many of the Balearic heads in Europe were indeed on it and Be With were most certainly listening. So, when we struck a deal to do the vinyl version of Burning Feeling, we couldn't resist asking about Washington Park.

Gentle opener "It Means Love" grooves along in the laconic style, conjuring carousel innocence and complimented by dreamy, spiritual sax and syrupy synth strings over a digi-soul beats. Title-track "Washington Park" glides smoothly in much the same vein, almost like a slightly more acidic, squelchier version of the preceding track with more insistent organ. Swoon. Closing out Side A, steady ambient gem "We'll See" is all gorgeous, soft pads with plaintive guitar and organ giving way to soaring digital strings over that metronomic drum machine soul.

Flip for the eerily brilliant "Seduction", a track which starts like a minimalist slice of Tommy Guerrero-esque guitar and drum machine soul but soon takes on a more menacing bent as Steve leans into his long-held predilection for horror by creating a slow-mo haunted house jam. The tempo (and temperature) rises with "Center Square", a Latin rhythm section and a sensual sax rubbing up against hot and heavy organ and string action. Steamy! To round things off, the ominous creeping groove of "Rhythm 77" feels like exotica-in-excelsis.

Washington Park was recorded over the first few months of the pandemic, during the spring of 2020, against the backdrop of his kids being out of school which meant daily walks and bike rides through Washington Park in Albany. It was during these moments of family activity and gentle movements, trying to make sense of the chaos engulfing his world, that Steve formed the ideas that led to this album. To make it manifest, he used all his old Roland beat boxes (CR-78, Rhythm 77 and Rhythm 330, Rhythm Arranger) plus a Chamberlin Rhythmate for all the percussion. Basslines were usually performed with his Moog Source or Minitaur and for pads and brass he used his Sequential Prophet 600 and Roland Juno 60. Strings came via a variety of old stringers - Korg Polysix, Elka Rhapsody, Crumar Orchestrator and Solina String Ensemble - and he also used his Fender Strat and Yamaha Custom saxophone.

Steve is a huge fan of exotica and that's clearly where this album is coming from. The likes of Martin Denny, Les Baxter and Henry Mancini can all be discerned here. As Steve explained, "I spent a lot of time listening to that stuff in the 90s and I figured it was time to let those influences show." You're going to be glad he did.

Mastering for the Washington Park vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis before being cut by Cicely Blaston of Alchemy Mastering at AIR Studios and pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

"I begin our sixth album by exploring melodies that take me to the boundaries of my voice. I write myself into my highest highs and lowest lows. There is a precariousness in the outer limits of my range that demands vulnerability. As our demos take shape, I realize this will be our first album without any belting, the first time I can’t force my way through the notes," recalls Tennis' Alania Moore. "In the studio, Patrick compresses the shit out of my mic and I sing with the gentleness of breathing. In that softness, lyrics take shape. We want to write a big album—something suited for radio, but our songs don’t follow conventional pop structures. Instead of choruses with universal themes, I write with a specificity that is new to me, narrowing in on the smallest details of our lives. The more we try to broaden our scope, the more we turn inward." "We name the album Pollen. It is about small things with big consequences: a particle, a moment, a choice. It is me in a fragile state; sometimes inhabited freely, sometimes reacted against. It is striving to remain in a moment without slipping into dread. It is about the way I can be undone by a very small thing." Tennis is Alaina Moore and Patrick Riley. Pollen is their sixth album. The two met in the philosophy department at the University of Colorado in 2008 after dropping out of their respective music programs. In the years after graduating, they got involved in Denver’s DIY music scene. Through house shows, they were connected with Underwater Peoples and Firetalk. The band went blog-viral nearly overnight, landing them a record deal with Fat Possum and then Communion Records, but with shifting labels and new interests, Tennis chose an alternate path for their band and career. In 2016, Moore and Riley formed the label Mutually Detrimental and began self-releasing. Their newfound freedom allowed them to return to their sailboat to write their next full-length, this time in the Sea of Cortez. Yours Conditionally, released in 2017, became their most commercially successful album–charting at #4 on Billboard’s Independent list and in the top 100 highest selling vinyl releases that year. They played Coachella and opened for artists like The National, Father John Misty and The Shins–proving their DIY roots as a cornerstone to their sound and narrative. Their follow up Swimmer (2020), was recorded in their home studio with Moore and Riley producing and engineering. The pair brought their long-time touring member Steve Voss in for the second time to drum on record. The singles, Need Your Love and Runner, were Tennis’ most successful releases to date.

To those who embraced 2000’s Nixon—Lambchop’s fifth album, whose luscious country soul grooves provided the sprawling Nashville collective with a significant British breakthrough that even found them selling out London’s 2,500-capacity Royal Festival Hall—the deceptively gentle Is a Woman, delivered two years later, administered a quiet but compelling shock. Gone almost entirely was frontman Kurt Wagner’s euphoric, Curtis Mayfield-esque falsetto, replaced by a tranquil, contemplative vocal style; and instead of the joyfully warm brass arrangements that had encouraged Zero 7 to remix “Up With People,” one of Nixon’s standouts, pianist Tony Crow now took center stage, teasing out gentle, ingenious melodies. The contrast was acute.

To discover the true spirit of Is a Woman, however, one need only listen to the remarkable “My Blue Wave,” one of the band’s finest recordings to date. Here, Wagner depicts a world of helpless tragedy in which comfort can nonetheless be found in the smallest of gestures, as he journeys from the contented sight of his pets—“You lay around the house… Just bones and squirrels inside your head”—to recollections of a devastating phone call from friend and bandmate William Tyler: “And William called and tried to tell me /

That his sister’s boyfriend has just died / He’s not sure what to do / And I’m not sure what to tell him he should do / Sometimes William, we’re just screwed / In my blue wave.”

Debut album by Dutch producer w1b0, who passed away in August, to be released in November on U-TRAX.

Wibo Lammerts' sudden death on August 15thshocked the worldwide electro community, and also left the record label, that had been working on the debut album with the artist known as w1b0 for the past two years, dumbfounded and in grief.

Wibo had jokingly always called his upcoming debut album 'his legacy', which now sadly has become a painful truth. With the support of Wibo's family, U-TRAX is now doing the only thing that doesn't feel totally wrong: proceed as planned, and release 'When Humans Ruled The Earth' on November 11.

W1b0 made quite a name for himself with heavy electro tracks that he released on labels like Bass Agenda, Hilltown Disco and Discos Antónicos. Standing at 202 meters, and combined with a cheerful character, most people remember him as the gentle giant of electro.
For this album, Wibo wanted to steer away from the dark and heavy electro he mostly made until then. The idea of having a platform to create delicate electronic music in different styles, and make it a showcase of his versatility, was very appealing to him. And that is where he and U-TRAX found each other.

The full-length album (over 75 minutes on cd and digital) comes after 'The Pilex Program EP', released in October, that featured a remix by Detroit's Ectomorph of 'Pilex Driver' and saw 'Program Yourself To Feel' remixed by a well-known Dutch producer that recently created the new 'techno alias' Human Form.
As usual with U-TRAX, the album comes in three different editions, with the 11-track double vinyl version containing the Ectomorph and Human Form remixes. The CD and digital version boast original versions only, plus four additional tracks: 'Alternate Reality Interface', 'Mixed Matter Fluctator', 'Synthetic', and 'In There'. The cassette version more or less has the same track list as the CD/digi version, but has both aforementioned remixes and a bonus track in the incredibly hypnotizing 'I Wanted You', a track that unfortunately couldn't be on the CD and vinyl versions.

Buyers of the physical releases get treated on superior quality products, another trademark of U-TRAX. The vinyl edition boasts over one hour of music, on two 180 grams, green vinyl discs, in a black & white & neon green gatefold sleeve. The eye-catching artwork is created by Utrecht artist Leffe Goldstein, known amongst others for his psychedelic beer can designs for Utrecht brewery Maximus. Wibo, being the beer lover he was, had zero doubts about having Leffe Goldstein do the cover for his album. The CD has a total playing time of 75 minutes and comes in a beautiful 6-panel digipack, while the cassette will have full-color on-body print and comes in a plastic-free Maltese cross fold-up sleeve.

Buyers of the physical releases get treated on superior quality products, another trademark of U-TRAX. The vinyl edition boasts over one hour of music, on two 180 grams, green vinyl discs, in a black & white & neon green gatefold sleeve. The eye-catching artwork is created by Utrecht artist Leffe Goldstein, known amongst others for his psychedelic beer can designs for Utrecht brewery Maximus. Wibo, being the beer lover he was, had zero doubts about having Leffe Goldstein do the cover for his album. The CD has a total playing time of 75 minutes and comes in a beautiful 6-panel digipack, while the cassette will have full-color on-body print and comes in a plastic-free Maltese cross fold-up sleeve.

Opener 'Acid Whip' is one of the oldest compositions on this album, in which a dark 303 bassline hums over layers of spacey strings. Wibo named it after the legendary Whip It party in Amsterdam's De Melkweg. 'Alternate Reality Interface' then presents bouncy rhythms toying around with all sorts of analog (bass) synthesizers, before we go really deep with the epic ambient techno track 'Wandering Souls'.
Then things get a little lighter spirited: 'Mixed Matter Fluctator' is an electro track that builds on sounds created by Matt Buggins. It has very strong Detroit influences, the city Wibo loved so much and that he made a pilgrimage to with a group of friends that called themselves 'The Techno Tourists'. The tempo goes up a notch in 'Program Yourself To Feel', that halfway opens up in wide science fiction strings that evoke memories of Star Wars, the movie series that Wibo was a great fan of, and that was the source of many of his tracks' names. The Human Form remix opens the vinyl edition of this album and is a downright belter of a track.

Next is a somewhat experimental intermezzo named 'Synthetic'. Erratic beats and pounding bassdrums get accompanied by very subtle eerie-sounding strings, before melancholic synthesizers and piano chords take over. This is an excellent prelude to the epic 'Hologram Computing', a track that is one of our favorites. It slowly and softly builds and builds, before a pounding bassdrum breaks loose and a hypnotic arpeggio takes you to higher planes.
Not ready to letting the listener relax, w1bo then serves 'Beilstein Reference', which again presents his trademark cocktail of down-to-earth electro rhythms and catchy melodies, covered in all sort of little sounds and noises, giving the song a lot of energy. What follows is 'Hit me', a track loosely based on a song by Dutch indie rock band Mr. Joe Abe. Wibo met the band's singer on a camping site while being on holidays and the two decided Wibo should do a remix of one of their songs. Nothing was left of the original except the vocals, and the result is a remarkable cheerful, poppy electro song.

'Anticipated Input' is one of the more recent tracks Wibo made for this album, combining electro, acid and, yes: epic strings. But not all is peace and quiet on this album, as 'Pilex Driver' shows. This is w1b0 going experimental in a danceable fashion: Industrial sounds make the track sound like we're passing a construction site that is playing loud electro music. On the vinyl version of this album, Ectomorph totally decomposed the original and made it into a mysterious, almost subdued, and totally brilliant electro track that sees a main role for the retro Roland CR drum machines sounds.

TFHats, Wibo's fellow member of the Transhumanism collective, added lyrics to 'Cartesian Coordinates'. His vocals add a pleasant New Wave flavor to this song, that has breaks that remarkably reminds one of Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. What follows is the most personal track on this album. 'Fornan' is a song that Wibo made for his wife Nanette, and was added as the last piece of the puzzle that creating an album is. The warm Detroit techno atmosphere in this electro song couldn't be a more beautiful tribute to his love, and mother of their two young boys.
The album then takes a surprising detour through a 1980s landscape with 'In There', that features the Joy Division-esque vocals of another one of Wibo's friends, indicated only as Vincent. The super slow and gloomy track is a treat for anyone that loved the darker side of New Wave. The album has a worthy closer in the sensitive, yet playful 'Schlegel Diagram'.








h 08: Hit Me (w1b0's Slugfest Assault Dub) feat. Mr Joe Abe

Tape



By its very nature, intuition is something of which we easily lose sight. Music however, as both bridge and secret technology, connects the natural, artificial, and the earned. It can act as both a reminder of cultures and people gone, while materialising and alchemising from thin air elements not to be found on any periodic tables, and visions no human can see.

»Pin down the dust« is the first meeting of Nighte - Christina Carter (Charalambides) and Mari Maurice (more eaze) - and it feels both automatic and natural. The collaboration stems from a spontaneous decision by the duo to start playing together weekly. “That's how this music was made,” explains Carter, “with gut feeling as the guiding principle. Mari understands the music I've made on such a deep level that playing with her feels so natural.”

The result of this meeting is inarguably some of the most beautiful music to ever emerge from either Carter or Maurice. The structures are spacious, generous, and gentle, with scraped violin strings and seemingly ancient moans strewn sparingly like falling leaves on a picnic blanket. Having begun life as freeform interplays between the duo recorded live at Maurice’s house, overdubs were later added and the material mixed by Maurice alone into finalised pieces.

Maurice’s varied instrumentation litters the background with distant and oneiric miscellanies, from groaned saxophone phrases and heavenly organ drones to glissandi guitars. Carter’s voice sits in the centre, embodying and channelling (mostly) wordless human ecstasy - and at times unease - amidst the allotment of blossoming sounds. Maurice & Carter’s clairvoyant connection notwithstanding, music always offers a portal back to our buried intuitions. “Pin Down The Dust” is both a tribute and a guide to this spontaneity and instinct, putting aside thought in favour of feeling.

Wildly creative free-form songwriter Rachael Dadd is set to release
her brand new studio album, ‘Kaleidoscope’, via Memphis Industries.
The album follows 2019’s ‘Flux’, which was released to much
acclaim, and was the album she was touring when the pandemic
struck. Like so many people disconnected from their communities and
struggling through the lockdowns, Rachael Dadd turned inwards,
seeking escape through music and connection through songwriting,
and her hope is that when people listen to ‘Kaleidoscope’, “they will
feel held and find space to breathe, grieve and celebrate.”
“This album is a lot more honest and personal than ‘Flux’” she shares,
“but I feel the songs are universal as they are largely rooted in truth
and love. If I had to pick a favourite album it would be this one
because of the magical rekindling of human connection when me and
my band got back in a room together again. All that magic went into
these songs.”
Co-produced “intuitively, boldly, and playfully” by Rachael and Rob
Pemberton (The Staves, Emily Barker, Maja Lena), ‘Kaleidoscope’
includes musical collaborators such as Maja Lena (Low Chimes),
longtime collaborator Emma Gatrill (Willy Mason), Alex Heane (bass),
Charlotte West (synths), Alex Garden (strings) and ‘Flux’ producer
Marcus Hamblett (Villagers, James Holden, The Staves), giving the
record “just the right colour combination, just the right pattern of
shapes, plenty of space where needed and finally landing in a sound
world that feels fresh and open and true,” reflects Rachael.
Japanese aesthetics absorbed from her time spent living there are
subconsciously woven into Rachael’s songs. “I first stepped foot in
Tokyo in 2008, sparked by the adventure of such a rich and different
culture and later on I lived on a small island and experienced an
appealing and balanced way of life: the aesthetics, the art and the
traditions,” she recalls. “There was a lot of caring for each other, a lot
of gentleness, and a lot of simple living in harmony with nature. Japan
left its cultural mark on me and is now part of my inner world and I’m
sure this comes out with the words and music I write.”
“But overall,” Rachael explains, “this is an album of homecoming and
reconnecting to my own truth, to my community here, to the earthy
land that I love and to the sky that I know.”

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.


DISC 5: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2)
Side I: (TRAIN)
1. Radio Cure (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. War on War (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Venus Stopped the Train (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
4. I'm the Man Who Loves You (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. The Good Part (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
Side J: (KETTLE)
1. Pot Kettle Black (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
2. Ashes of American Flags (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
3. Poor Places (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
4. Shakin' Sugar (Here Comes Everybody Version) *
5. Reservations (Here Comes Everybody Version) *

DISC 6: HERE COMES EVERYBODY – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 2) / THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3)
Side K: (ESCAPE)
1. Cars Can't Escape (Here Comes Everybody Version) * #
2. A Magazine Called Sunset (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) The Unified Theory of Everything Version ** #
4. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side L: (WAR)
1. Kamera (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Radio Cure (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. War on War (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
4. Jesus, Etc. (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #

DISC 7: THE UNIFIED THEORY OF EVERYTHING – BUILDING YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT (PART 3) / LONELY IN THE DEEP END – DEMOS, DRAFTS, ETC.
Side M: (DRUMMER)
1. Ashes of American Flags (Stravinsky Mix) ** #
2. Heavy Metal Drummer (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
3. I'm The Man Who Loves You (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) **
4. Pot Kettle Black (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
5. Poor Places (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
Side N: (RESERVATIONS)
1. Reservations (The Unified Theory of Everything Version) ** #
2. Love Will (Let You Down) Lonely in the Deep End Version *
3. Lost Poem Demo (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
4. I’m The Only One Who Lets Her Down (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *
5. Has Anybody Seen My Pencil? (Lonely in the Deep End Version) *














[l] E1. Anniversary (Nothing Up My Sleeve) [American Aquarium Version] *









[v] G2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [American Aquarium Version] *


[y] H2. Not for the Season (Laminated Cat) [Here Comes Everybody Version] * #





[xe] K3. Remember to Remember (Hummingbird) [The Unified Theory of Everything Version] ** #











[xq] N2. Love Will (Let You Down) [Lonely in the Deep End Version] *

With Panorama, Frank Maston pays homage to the classic era of library records and Italian soundtracks of the 70s. A blissed-out, grooving collection of filmic cues, it continues the unique brilliance of Tulips and Darkland. Elegant and easy, subtle and stylish, breezy and beautiful; this is his Maston-piece. Commissioned by legendary label KPM, Panorama cements Maston as a master of modern classics and the most mesmeric of contemporary composers.

In early 2020, Be With suggested to Frank that he should make a KPM record. He wasn't aware that they were still putting out new library records - but he was super keen: "It was completely surreal and it still hasn't fully sank in that I have a record in that catalog, sitting alongside those incredible albums that were so influential to me."

Frank was visiting family in his hometown of LA in March 2020 when the world ground to a halt so the KPM project arrived at a fortuitous moment. Having fantasised about committing to a record with no distractions, with a proper budget, access to his gear and space to work in - to really dig in and try to write and arrange the best work he could possibly make - it was a real "be careful what you wish for" moment. But, as Frank explained, "it completely saved my year and sanity to have something to focus on and get excited about. It was my lifeline." He spent seven months on it, working almost every day.

Maston had already been making library-influenced music so when KPM outlined the criteria for the tracks it was exactly what he had been doing all along. He thought the best approach would be to make a follow-up to Tulips that had a parallel life as a KPM record. Enjoying complete creative freedom, “gave me the drive to power through and dig in deep. I'm not sure if I could have kept myself on such a rigorous recording schedule under my own steam, and I think the momentum I had writing and recording it is part of the strength of this record."

Maston’s sleek retro-groove instrumentals emulate the classic KPM “Greensleeve” reel-to-reel recordings that provided mood-setting music for mid-century cinema, television, and radio programs. Apparently in close conversation with the John Cameron-Keith Mansfield KPM pastoral masterclass Voices In Harmony, Maston's Panorama could be heard as that record's funky follow-up. Yes, it's *that good*. Another reference point from the hallowed library would be Francis Coppieter's wonderful Piano Viberations.

Opener "First Class" is a blissed-out groove, featuring the soothing vocals of Molly Lewis and a glistening harp over drums, a two-note bass motif (from Eli Ghersinu of L'Eclair) and an assemblage of guitars, synths, French horn and glowing vibraphone. Acid Lounge, anyone? The irresistibly funky "Easy Money" is a gorgeous cut led by more of Molly's vocals, pastoral flute and Rhodes, underpinned by drums and percussion, grooving bass, chilled guitars and synth strings. Kicking the tempo up, the percussive "Storm" is a vibin' filmic-fusion jam where psychedelic guitars (courtesy of Pedrum of Allah Las/Paint) organ, jazzy flute, Rhodes and vibes all compete for a place in the sun, over drums and walking bassline.

The heavenly "You Shouldn't Have" is a delicate, melancholic wonder; a dreamy instrumental where the melody is shared by a whistle, harpsichord and celeste, over a cyclical piano chord sequence and bass, synths, guitars, organ and distant French horn. The tempo rises again with the passionate, sticky "Fling", a summery, nostalgic groove with skipping drums and percussion, warm bass and electric guitar, yearning flute and synth strings. The brilliantly titled "Fool Moon" has that Voices In Harmony sound down pat. A romantic slow-mo dreamscape of Rhodes and harpsichord, piano, light drums and softly strummed acoustic guitar.

Side B opens with "Medusa", a hopeful, mellowed-out track with shuffling drums, feel-good flute, muted horns, glowing Rhodes and synth strings. The soft and gentle "Morning Paper" is an elegant way to start the day; a beatless blend of flute, guitar, percussion, ambient synths and vibes. The upbeat head-nod jam "Scenic" has that widescreen car-chase feel, uptempo drums and percussion, grooving bass, piano, synths and ambient electric guitar. "Adieu" is a smooth summer vibe, relaxing with brushed drums, Rhodes, flutes and horns. Molly Lewis's gorgeous vocals steal the show, alongside vibes, jamming organ and synth strings.

"Hydra" is another laid-back 70s-sounding retro cinema cue with light drums and percussion, walking bass, spacey synths, clavinet, glowing vibraphone, vintage organ and electric guitar. Closer "Jet Lag" is a laconic bow out; bass-driven drum machine soul, featuring hand percussion, Rhodes, vibes, synths and organ.

Multi-instrumentalist Frank played a bit of everything across Panorama. Yet, humble as ever, he believes the time, energy, and enthusiasm of all of the musicians invited to the sessions helped him realise his vision: "There were two Italian flautists who really understood what I was going for. Two french horn players, cor anglais, a vibraphonist and a flügel horn player. I've never involved this many people in my projects before, and yet the result is the most "me" record I've ever made."

Musically, a strong Italian theme runs through the record. Frank is fascinated by ancient Rome and both his parents are Italian (Maston was originally Mastrantonio before anglicisation). So, it felt natural to fully embrace these strands and tie everything together with the striking artwork. The Romans were influenced by Greek culture, emulating their art and architecture, which, in turn, influenced Renaissance era artists. Frank acknowledged this tradition when reflecting on his place in the lineage of library and soundtrack composers. He then asked his friend Mattea Perrotta, a painter and sculptor, for some sketches. What he received was exactly what he had in mind: "Especially the theater mask, which really captures the range of moods on the album". Frank arranged them as per the cover and it soon felt right: "I wanted to make a cover that was reminiscent of the classic KPM albums without making it too pastiche - so it has its own identity and looks at home alongside other library records, while still fitting in nicely in the KPM catalogue." The last step was for us to introduce Frank to Be With-KPM’s Rich Robinson, who helped put together the back and centre labels and align it all within the KPM standard.

Panorama is a perfect title for the album. With no opportunity to travel for tours or recording projects, Frank arranged postcards from his collection on his desk with beautiful views of the mediterranean coast, the Roman Colosseum and Cinque Terre. These also served as visual prompts: "That was part of the sonic concept - imagining myself driving down the mediterranean coast with this music on, with the top down." Additionally, the range of moods and vibes - "I tried to make each song very different from the previous one in terms of tempo and arrangement and feeling" - speaks to the idea of a Panorama of music and sounds and emotions. The last track was originally called Panorama, but KPM already had that title in their catalogue so it was changed to "Jet Lag", which, as Frank notes, "is perhaps even more fitting, since the trip is over".

‘Complex and dangerously catchy, lyrically sophisticated and provocative, noisy and somehow serene… Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… is simply a masterpiece.’ – Pitchfork, 10/10, April 2002

‘The looped chaos and plangent melodies... effectively heralded the birth of a new band, as Jeff Tweedy overhauled his compositional modus operandi. So tender was the emotional core of songs like ‘Jesus, Etc.’ that the record became wrapped up in America’s post-9/11 cultural discourse... Yankee Hotel Foxtrot embedded Wilco’s great American songwriter status.’
– Mojo

‘It's as if the Flying Burrito Brothers suddenly decided to cover Pavement songs. There is a gentle, rootsy beauty here that Wilco has buried in a box of vulnerability and covered with a handful of dirt.’ – New York Times

‘Born out of turmoil, Wilco’s fourth album was a stone-cold classic.’ – Uncut

Nonesuch releases seven special editions of Wilco’s landmark 2002 album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The now-classic record has been remastered and will be available as part of each set. The Super Deluxe version comprises eleven vinyl LPs and one CD – including demos, drafts, and instrumentals, charting the making of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – plus a live 2002 concert recording and a September 2001 radio performance and interview. That box set includes eighty-two previously unreleased music tracks as well as a new book featuring an interview with singer/songwriter/guitarist Jeff Tweedy, drummer Glenn Kotche, and Jim O’Rourke, who mixed the acclaimed 2002 album; an in-depth essay by journalist/author Bob Mehr; and previously unseen photos of the band making the album in their Chicago studio, The Loft. For the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot recording, Wilco was Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Leroy Bach, Glenn Kotche, and Jay Bennett with Craig Christiansen, Ken Coomer, Jessy Greene, Fred Lonberg-Holm, and Jim O’Rourke.

A live version of ‘Reservations’ from a legendary concert contained on Snoozin’ at The Pageant – Live 7/23/02 at The Pageant, St. Louis, MO – a recording that is part of the Super Deluxe LP and CD sets as well as the Deluxe LP and digital sets – is now available. A limited-edition vinyl 7” with versions of ‘I’m the Man Who Loves You’ and ‘War on War’, from the Super Deluxe box set, is available now from wilcostore.

Wilco marked the anniversary of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – which was released commercially on April 23, 2002, after a circuitous and storied gestation, including a period of streaming for free on the band’s website – with a performance of the album’s ‘Poor Places’ on April 18’s Late Show with Stephen Colbert, which may be seen here. The band is currently performing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in its entirety (plus a mix of concert favourites and rarities) in two limited runs at New York City’s United Palace and Chicago’s Auditorium Theatre. The Chicago show on April 23 will be available as a live stream here.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was widely acclaimed as one of 2002’s best albums, appearing in year-end lists of Mojo, NME, Q, Rolling Stone, and Uncut, among many others. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot also was featured in multiple decade-end lists, with Rolling Stone naming it #3 Album of the 2000s, as well as many Greatest Albums of All Time lists, including in the NME.

Among Yankee’s inspirations was a recording Tweedy bought at Tower Records in the late 1990s, The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations. As Bob Mehr points out in his new album note, the record got “deep under Tweedy’s skin.” Tweedy said in his 2017 memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back), “It was as fascinating to me as anything being made by actual musicians using actual instruments… I wanted to know why it was so hypnotic to me. Why could I listen to hours of this stuff, even though I had no clue what any of them were saying. That question became the foundation for Yankee Hotel Foxtrot… the way people communicated or ultimately failed to communicate.” The album takes its title from a haunting recording of a woman repeating those words that is included in The Conet Project; that recording is sampled in the penultimate song on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, ‘Poor Places’.

“Conceptually, Tweedy had decided to focus on a big idea for the next album: the state of America. His lyrics – often distilled from scribbled pages of free verse or poetry – became a form of inquiry,” Mehr continues. Tweedy said, in 2004, “I wanted to write about the stuff right in front of my eyes, microscopically looking at America and asking questions about each little thing… How can there be all these good things and things that I love about America, alongside all of these things that I’m ashamed of? And that was an internal question, too; I think I felt that way about myself.”

Mehr says, “Exploring those questions, while weaving in strands of Eastern philosophy and bits of autobiography – Yankee lyrics would be loaded with the pained imagery of someone suffering from migraines and mental health issues – Tweedy would conjure a deep examination of both country and self.”

Describing the uncanny, strangely prescient feeling of the album, which Wilco began offering as a free stream on its website in 2001, Mehr notes: “In the wake of 9/11, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot would be burdened with unintended meaning. The disc had originally been scheduled for a September 11 release. Its cover – a Sam Jones-shot image of Chicago’s twin Marina Towers angled in looming fashion – bore an eerie resemblance to the felled World Trade Center towers. And the songs – with titles like ‘Ashes of American Flags’ and ‘War on War,’ and lyrics about how ‘tall buildings shake, sad voices escape’ – took on a terrible new resonance.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the first Wilco release on Nonesuch Records following the band’s infamous split with Reprise (both labels are part of Warner Music Group). It was also the first release featuring the line-up of drummer Glenn Kotche and multi-instrumentalist Leroy Bach joining founding members Jeff Tweedy and John Stirratt. The 2002 Sam Jones film I Am Trying to Break Your Heart documented the fraught recording and mixing process, personnel changes, and label issues.

The relationship with Nonesuch would last nearly a decade and include three more studio albums – the Grammy Award-winning A ghost is born, Sky Blue Sky, and Wilco (the album) – along with a live album and a live DVD, plus reissues of earlier records, before Wilco began its own label, dBpm. The band’s current lineup of Jeff Tweedy, John Stirratt, Glenn Kotche, Mikael Jorgensen, Patrick Sansone, and Nels Cline has been together for nearly twenty years.

Sunny Sweeney, a genre-bending songwriting spitfire who has spent equal time in the rich musical traditions of Texas and Tennessee, returns with 'Married Alone', the celebrated singer-songwriter’s fifth studio album and the follow-up to 2017’s critically acclaimed 'Trophy'. Co-produced by beloved Texas musician and larger-than-life personality Paul Cauthen and the Texas Gentlemen’s multi-hyphenate Beau Bedford, Married Alone is Sweeney’s finest work yet, bringing together confessional songwriting, image-rich narratives and no shortage of sonic surprises for a loosely conceptual album about loss and healing. "Before I made this album, I did two things I’d never done before. I saw Stevie Nicks in concert with Fleetwood Mac, and I toured with Bob Seger. While Waylon and Loretta are tattooed on my heart and I’m deep-rooted in fiddle, steel, and twangy telecaster, this time, I channelled my deep love for rock icons Stevie, Tom Petty, Neil Young and Bob Seger in a way I never have before. I married ethereal rock vibes with the grit of a country lyric. Paul Cauthen took the helm as producer and brought in the stellar Beau Bedford and Jeff Saenz to complete the trifecta to get the sound we were going for. The majority of the album was recorded at Modern Electric Sound Recorders in Dallas, TX and features some of the band members I play with every night on tour. I want my fans to be able to take home that live experience, the guitar tones, fiddle solos - I leave everything on the stage each night and I want people to feel that in this recording."

LP on classic black vinyl. The long-awaited new album from the best pop band in Scotland... The Orchids were making sophisticated pop music right back in the early 1990s when Sarah Records first started. Their songs were as emotionally pure as anything else on that label, but they were always a step ahead of their peers in terms of song arrangements and musical ambition. With a casual, unpretentious air they made writing perfect pop songs seem easy, almost accidental, and several great releases followed. The Orchids gained a passionate following: people knew a good thing when they heard it and they hugged it close. But maybe now it’s time for the rest of the world to be let in on the secret. The songs themselves are a beautiful mix of strength and gentleness. They wrap you in a powerful embrace, making you feel comfortable and secure – and then whisper their insecurities and anxieties into your ear. They say: ‘it’s OK to admit weakness. It’s OK to be fragile. That’s where true strength comes from’. From Glasgow, and proudly Scottish, the band shares a musical lineage with other great groups from that city, from Aztec Camera to Orange Juice, Lloyd Cole to Teenage Fanclub - bands that specialise in song-writing that can tell big stories through small personal fragments, that can make the ordinary extraordinary. Ian Carmichael has helped the band create a perfectly produced masterpiece. He subtly accentuates the drama of the songs, with a sophisticated choreography and gloss that never overwhelms the tenderness of the music. In ‘This Boy Is A Mess’ (the first single from the album), the lyric confesses frailty while the arrangement gets stronger and stronger. It is bittersweet and exhilarating at the same time. ‘I Want You, I Need You’ has harmonies as big as a house – but the yearning message remains intimate and close. ‘I Don’t Mean To Stare’ is an elegant version of the song that first appeared on Skep Wax compilation Under The Bridge. Album opener ‘Didn’t We Love You’ daringly opens up empty spaces where the reverb of the drums is the only thing you can hear... and then floods your ears with a harmonised chorus, sweet guitar melodies and sweeping effects. Even then, the lyrical lament, expressing the desire to live in a better place - a place unspoilt by the greedy phonies who’ve taken over – comes across as clearly as if Hackett were leaning over for a friendly chat in the snug bar of The Orchids’ favourite Glasgow pub. Dreaming Kind will be released as a CD, digital download and vinyl LP.

New version on Solar Orange Vinyl. RIYL: Slowdive, DIIV, Electric Youth, The Cure, My Bloody Valentine. Solo project of Los Angeles based Matthew Doty (ex-Saxon Shore). For Matthew Doty, Deserta has always been about exploring a sonic universe that allows him to express a kaleidoscope of emotions, without having to say much at all. Through a patchwork of reverb-tinged textures – drone guitars, lingering synths and driving percussion – the Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist weaves together stories of care, frustration and catharsis that ultimately stretch to a gentle resolve. On new album Every Moment, Everything You Need, Doty chronicles the kind of year we all fear, full of uncertainty, tension and sustained pressure, and transforms it into a celebration of perseverance. It’s an essential reminder that we have the power to shape the stories we tell. The pandemic meant that Doty had to give up his studio and downsize a lot of his gear and instead, carve out a space in his two-bedroom apartment to craft the next chapter of Deserta. Sharing the space with his wife and son, Doty and his partner are also essential healthcare workers, which meant the couple would often have to tag-team childcare, along with 13-hour shifts in PPE and people constantly calling with questions about the ever changing guidelines and protocols. Once the blueprint for Every Moment, Everything You Need was set, Doty reached out to a number of collaborators to stitch together his vision for the sonic landscape. James McAlister (Sufjan Stevens, The National, Taylor Swift) came onboard to perform and record drums, while Caroline Lufkin (Mice Parade) wrote and performed vocals on the ethereal “Where Did You Go.” Elsewhere, the LP was mixed by Dave Fridmann (Tame Impala, Mogwai, Interpol), with Beach House and Slowdive producer Chris Coady engineering and co-producing, making this the first time Fridmann and Coady had worked together on a project. While the vocals are more prominent than Deserta’s previous albums, it’s their amalgamation with the instrumental aspects that secures Every Moment, Everything You Need as Deserta’s most confident and assured release to date. An affecting emotional candor teamed with persistent riffs and tenacious rhythms sees Doty unafraid to dive deeper; an unrestrained approach that ushers in a lustrous purging of agitation and anxiety. Showcasing those dark, exhaustive thoughts through crucial swells and looped, electronic soundscapes, it’s an LP that’s infinitely layered, with something new to discover with each and every enchanting listen.

He might be vocalist in bands such as Brighton-based progressive act Diagonal and psychedelic outfit Baron, but when it comes to his solo work Alex Crispin has typically worked in more wordless fields. Last year the songwriter, vocalist and producer released a triptych of ambient albums, consisting of two older albums in 'Idle Worship' and 'Open Submission', as well as new meditative work in 'Resubmergency'. On his new self-titled album, however, Crispin re-emerges from the cavernous soundscapes to – for the first time – put his vocal and song writing stamp on a record under his own name. “I personally find it easier to create more guarded, moody music, but I was at a point where I wanted to embrace a more universal, intimate and open side to what I might say” Crispin says. “Over time I’d got over certain blocks or preoccupations and so wanted to create something accessible and open hearted, which became a big driver for this record.” Pointedly self-titled to reflect the newfound confidence in his song writing away from the collective of a band, the album’s nine tracks are a warm embrace amidst troubled times. Musically there’s nods to everything from tropicalia and Brazilian MPB, to 80’s dusk pop balladeers The Blue Nile and Paul Simon’s explorations into African music. Lyrically aware of the snowballing turbulence that surrounds us, Crispin in reaction tries to see hope and looks around at the relationships and connections in his life that provide him strength. He opens 'Invisible (To Us)' with the words “Before the world did end, there was just one moment when, everybody thought there might be time, to look around again, to laugh to cry to sing.” Elsewhere, 'Listen & Learn' strikes at the heart of other underlying themes of the record, of the rarity of people opening up, taking on new ideas and allowing change. It’s accompanied with a rich, maximal sound palette of flute and sax that play around each other as Crispin’s vocal chips in with gentle encouragement. “One of the main markers on the album that I was aware of from the start, was to let myself express joy and positivity in the music” he says. “I have come to greatly prize the power of accessibility and universality over artistic 'coolness or trend', much in the same way that so often for me, the greatest pieces of art humans make nowadays are things like Pixar movies, with their combination of undeniable human talent and craft, alongside genuinely moving and accessible themes.” Indeed, there is a cinematic feel to much of Crispin’s own music, something brought over from his ambient creations – although his self-titled album possesses a panorama all of its own. Something like 'When I Reach The Ocean' has a hazy, pastoral feel to it like something out of the Canterbury Folk scene; there’s space between the notes though, which in turn pushes the track out to a greater expanse than the comparatively soft-edged and modest sound palette used to create it. Similarly, the likes of 'Effert' revel in the space afforded to them - in the case of the aforementioned in particular, Crispin lets his voice take a back seat and creates an open wash of sound that he allows the guitar to probe and explore within. “In making any music I am definitely conscious of trying to put in only what is effective” Crispin says. “It is so easy to clutter tracks without realising it, just having the ability to add stuff can just become addictive as it’s so easy to do with recording setups now.” The album started coming together at the end of 2020, with Crispin getting most of the songs to a concrete state, before starting recording in May 2021 with Diagonal bandmates Luke Foster (drums) and Daniel Pomlett (Bass), who put down rhythm tracks. Jazz saxophonist Rob Milne then added parts which would become the glue that held the whole organic aesthetic of the album together. There’s no doubt that lockdown played a part in proceedings, with a kind of forced focus resulting in a need for joyful expression. However, Crispin and his partner also suffered a bereavement which led to her travelling for large periods of time. “It was a very intense and difficult time and I think some of the intensity of emotion of that situation coupled with being alone must have inevitably contributed to the work itself” he says. It's perhaps why when even in moments of sheer happiness, such as the 'Sabu’s' breezily euphoric opener, Crispin ponders: “No-one really cares beyond this moment, and even when it's here, it's never here”. It’s the first of several bittersweet moments on the record that give the album its weight. On this new LP, Crispin recognises that sadness doesn’t mean throwing out hope, and that even in moments of joy there’s still a path ahead of you to take.

‘Mehldau can truly translate his thoughts and feelings into complex and lasting music. He is one of those people whose brain and fingers and musical ability is all one beautiful entity.’ – Jamie Cullum

Nonesuch Records releases Brad Mehldau’s Jacob’s Ladder on 2 x 140g black vinyl on June 17th . The album features new music that reflects on scripture and the search for God through music inspired by the prog rock Mehldau loved as a young adolescent, which was his gateway to the fusion that eventually led to his discovery of jazz. Featured musicians on the album include Mehldau’s label mates Chris Thile and Cécile McLorin Salvant, as well as Mark Guiliana, Becca Stevens, Joel Frahm, and others. The album’s first single, ‘maybe as his skies are wide’, builds off an interpolation of one portion of Rush’s classic ‘Tom Sawyer’.

Mehldau explains, “We are born close to God, and as we mature, we invariably move further and further away from Him on account of our ego. Jacob’s Ladder begins at that place closer to God with the voice of child, and then moves into the world of action. God is always there, but in our discovery and conquest, and all the joys and sorrows they bring, we may lose sight of him. He sets a ladder before us though, like in Jacob’s dream, and we climb towards him, to find reconciliation with ourselves, to stitch up all those worldly wounds and finally heal. The record ends with my vision of heaven – once again as a child, His child, in eternal grace, in ecstasy.

“The musical conduit on the record is prog,” Mehldau continues. “Prog – progressive rock – was the music of my childhood, before I discovered jazz. It matched the fantasy and science fiction books I read from C.S. Lewis, Madeleine L’Engle and others at that time, aged ten through twelve. It was my gateway to the fusion of Miles Davis, Weather Report, Mahavishnu Orchestra and other groups, which in turn was the gateway to more jazz. Jazz shared with prog a broader expressive scope and larger-scale ambitions than the rock music I had known already.

“The prog from Rush, Gentle Giant, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer here only hints at the genre’s conceptual, compositional and emotional range. These bands and others have continued to influence newer groups that bring prog impulses into the arena of hard rock and screaming math metal, like Periphery, whose music is included here, and also inspired the screaming vocals on ‘Herr und Knecht.’ I tried to avoid a direct tribute approach to all the songs, and opted in some cases for excerpts, or reworking of themes.”

Although Brad Mehldau is best known as a jazz composer and improviser, he has made several albums that fall outside of the mainstream jazz genre, including his 2001 Largo, produced by Jon Brion. Wide-ranging in texture and big in scale, it features woodwind or brass ensembles are on several tracks, as well as a heavy emphasis on powerful drums. In 2010, Nonesuch released his second collaboration with Brion, Highway Rider, which includes performances by Mehldau’s trio – drummer Jeff Ballard and bassist Larry Grenadier – as well as drummer Matt Chamberlain, saxophonist Joshua Redman, and a chamber orchestra led by Dan Coleman. Mehldau also orchestrated and arranged the album’s fifteen pieces for the ensemble.

Mehldau’s 2014 collaboration with Mark Guiliana, Mehliana: Taming the Dragon featured Mehldau on Fender Rhodes and synthesizers and Guiliana on drums and effects, playing twelve original tunes – six by the duo and six by Mehldau. His 2019 album Finding Gabriel featured performances by him on piano, synthesizers, percussion, and Fender Rhodes, as well as vocals. Guest musicians included Ambrose Akinmusire, Sara Caswell, Kurt Elling, Joel Frahm, Mark Guiliana, Gabriel Kahane, and Becca Stevens, among others.

International Feel founder and guru of the sunset soundtrack, Mark Barrott returns with a new EP entitled Travelling Music. After spending the last few years writing & producing for other people, Mark is focusing his creative efforts inwards & rediscovering his own musical compass, calling it ‘the best medicine and therapy there is’. It’s this energy he looks forward to sharing via a number of releases over the coming months, including a new La Torre compilation, a series of Bandcamp only releases (Bandcamp Editions), the soundtrack to a new Japanese documentary (??) and this new vinyl release, Travelling Music.

He refers to the title track as Balearic trance. Not in the overblown Dutch sense, but trance as a metaphor/mechanism for an altered state, through hypnotic unraveling synth lines and a dash of wonkiness thrown in for good measure . Elsewhere on the EP, Arcade Scene flexes its melodic Italo dance moves with a slight nod to New Order, but a version of the group that’s beamed in from an alternate reality, where The Haçienda was called Il Tesoro and relocated to Ancona via a Gerd Janson DJ set circa 1991.

Chillin’ 4 work channels Aphex Twin from his easy listening Gentle People remix era, with added Sketches from an Island / Ry Cooder-esque guitars and the reprise of Travelling Music already feels like a La Torre sunset classic, bouncing with sequenced polyrhythmic arpeggios, before gently evaporating into a Vangelis-meets-Edgar Froese heat haze.

As with most of his work, Barrott calls this folk music…the telling of stories from everyday life and being Ibizan in origin, there are always a lot of varied & crazy stories to tell, but this chapter in particular feels like a deep burnt therapeutic transmission straight from the heart.

Having initially met more than a decade ago at a local community radio station, sometimes doing guest slots on each other’s live, improvised noise shows, Cormac Culkeen and Dave Grenon knew they had a mutual interest in working with sonic textures. They listened to each other’s bands for a handful of years, and in 2017, “made good on a threat” that they’d been making for quite a long time: to start a band. At Cormac’s gentle but clear urging—declaring that they’d gone ahead and booked a space in which to record a video—the two wrote their first song, “Sebaldus,” an ambitious 12-minute trip, which also serves as the fireworks finale to their self-titled debut album. With surges of pathos that smooth out into something more soothing in turn, Cormac goes: “The hunter, you’ve seen him / The archer, his arrows are strong / And hunger, you’ve known her / I know the winter is long.” The track is as much about enduring a Canadian winter as it is about the eponymous 8th century hermit, shot through with sublimated desire. As Cormac put it, Joyful Joyful’s songs are “a little bit outside of time.” But while the lyrics beg close, oblique reading unto themselves, there’s also a distinct sense that they’re only one of many more ways that the duo shapes sound. Cormac, whose voice is like a sea with irregular tides, lights up about an idea in traditional sean-nós Irish music that songs already exist and are out there; it’s up to the singer to become the conduit. This belief in music as something to be channelled, and something more than sound, resonates with the singer’s fundamentalist religious past. To paraphrase: lots of group singing, harmonies, no instrumentation, totally unmediated, no priest, congregational—not choral, not a performance, not about talent, the spirit moves through people. “Of course that informs how I think about singing,” Cormac says. So, when they were exiled from the church because of their queerness, they took the music with them, dislocating it from its dogmatic bounds but not from its transcendent potential. This record might be thought of, then, as a kind of queering of sacred, devotional traditions—or at the very least, a space where all of these things can be held at once. Perhaps perceivable by some as contradictions, these intersecting influences create the conditions for an incredibly singular sound. Dave is steady and exploratory in his handling of this multiplicity, arranging sounds as they’re revealed, corralling them, coaxing them into form. “Because Dave is there,” Cormac says, “I get to sing three times higher, and three times lower, and faster, and backwards, and all of these sounds! That are there. They’re all there.” When asked about early musical memories, Cormac recalled an immediate fascination with harmony: from demanding that the first person they ever heard singing it explain what they were doing, to always (still, to this day) singing in harmony with their twin sister around the house, to being part of a children’s choir that sang soprano in Handel’s Messiah—not realizing until they entered the room with all the other ranges that their learned melody was but one part of the whole. Just as tellingly, Dave reflects on his early attraction to “abstraction and becoming abstract,” describing childhood afternoons messing with microphone and speaker feedback loops, producing long, enduring sounds with almost undetectable variations. In a way unique to the coalescing of these two listeners, notions of harmony are central to their output. Dave samples field recordings, old keyboards and synths, and vocal drones, running the live singing through four or five parallel effects chains, sampling and treating everything again in the moment. “Another way to put it is that Cormac’s voice comes into the board and then comes back out shifted, delayed, and shattered; Cormac and I hear it, live with it, and respond,” Dave says. This work is contingent not only on a deep intuition (neither of them read sheet music) of polyphony and due proportion (something St Thomas Aquinas famously listed as an attribute of beauty) but also on their connection to each other and ability to read subtle cues. Dave says they’d hold each other’s hands while performing if it was more convenient to do so, riffing on something else Cormac mentioned about traditional Irish singing: that someone would always hold the singer’s hand, for fear that without a tether to the ground they might find themselves utterly lost, unsure how to return. Joyful Joyful doesn’t shy away from offering such experiences of departure; they’re willing to unsettle their audiences because they themselves are unsettled. Their shared penchant for spooky, heavy music, and self-described “omnivorous” listening practices equip them with an array of sonic concepts that support this effort; Diamanda Galás, The Rankin Family, Pan Sonic, Pauline Oliveros, Keith Fullerton Whitman, Yma Sumac, and Catholic hymnody were just a few that came up. Observing their audience gives them insight about the effect of each song—something they considered while arranging the album. Its arc is marked by soft, sometimes sudden oscillations between cacophony and euphony, day and night (listen for insects), and from sexual, visceral entanglements to more ephemeral, celestial ones. Front to back, it arouses expansion, unraveling. Of lightning, Vicki Kirby writes: “quite curious initiation rites precede these electrical encounters. An intriguing communication, a sort of stuttering chatter between the ground and the sky, appears to anticipate the actual stroke.” By all accounts, something similar seems to happen at Joyful Joyful shows, between those on the stage and those off it, between what’s earthly and what’s beyond. “A lightning bolt is not a straightforward resolution of the buildup of a charge difference between the earth and a cloud … there is, as it were, some kind of nonlocal communication effected between the two,” writes Karen Barad, extrapolating on Kirby’s thought. Cormac acknowledges that while they and Dave play a role in this mysterious charge that comes about, they’re not solely responsible. However ineffable it may be, it’s undoubtedly a form of communion—and a sensuously shocking one at that

Ted K. Kaczynski is notorious for both tragically murdering three people (and wounding an additional 23) via bombs sent in the mail and for his numerous writings on the evils of technology he composed during his primitive residency in the woods of Montana. Film director Tony Stone's choice to have the renowned electronic artist Blanck Mass score the film is somewhat ironic and creates an obvious tension perfect for the controversial and complex subject matter. 2020 saw the first Blanck Mass movie score, for the soundtrack to Nick Rowland's acclaimed cinematic debut Calm with Horses. This expansion into new areas of melodic composition and textural exploration won Blanck Mass many new fans, with the BBC's acknowledged number one film buff Mark Kermode proclaiming the work the soundtrack of the year. In 2021, Blanck Mass won the prestigious Ivor Novello Award for Best Original Film Score and has firmly established himself at the forefront of the latest wave of experimental soundscape wizards. Recording during lockdown at his studio in Edinburgh, Scotland, Blanck Mass's Ben Power was in the perfect setting for a musical piece intended to capture the isolation central to Kaczynski's story. Power was also working with a director in a time zone 10 hours behind and thus many sessions required working in the middle of the night, which added a fitting intensity to the composition process. He said of the project "I wanted it to feel like an `epic'" and drew on the legends Sergio Leone and Ennio Morricone for inspiration in encapsulating the energy of the perceived good vs. evil. The gentle madness of sound achieved is exquisite and slowly builds in intensity and desperation as the score moves along. Power is able to perfectly capture the complexity, the terror and the deep emotionality of the film while presenting an often breathtakingly beautiful and always masterful album that stands on its own as a work of art. For Fans of Tim Hecker, Oneohtrix Point Never, DJ Shadow, Coil, Arca, Andy Stott, Fuck Buttons.

Vinyl now gone back to June. RIYL: Slowdive, DIIV, Electric Youth, The Cure, My Bloody Valentine. Solo project of Los Angeles based Matthew Doty (ex-Saxon Shore). For Matthew Doty, Deserta has always been about exploring a sonic universe that allows him to express a kaleidoscope of emotions, without having to say much at all. Through a patchwork of reverb-tinged textures – drone guitars, lingering synths and driving percussion – the Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter and multi-instrumentalist weaves together stories of care, frustration and catharsis that ultimately stretch to a gentle resolve. On new album Every Moment, Everything You Need, Doty chronicles the kind of year we all fear, full of uncertainty, tension and sustained pressure, and transforms it into a celebration of perseverance. It’s an essential reminder that we have the power to shape the stories we tell. The pandemic meant that Doty had to give up his studio and downsize a lot of his gear and instead, carve out a space in his two-bedroom apartment to craft the next chapter of Deserta. Sharing the space with his wife and son, Doty and his partner are also essential healthcare workers, which meant the couple would often have to tag-team childcare, along with 13-hour shifts in PPE and people constantly calling with questions about the ever changing guidelines and protocols. Once the blueprint for Every Moment, Everything You Need was set, Doty reached out to a number of collaborators to stitch together his vision for the sonic landscape. James McAlister (Sufjan Stevens, The National, Taylor Swift) came onboard to perform and record drums, while Caroline Lufkin (Mice Parade) wrote and performed vocals on the ethereal “Where Did You Go.” Elsewhere, the LP was mixed by Dave Fridmann (Tame Impala, Mogwai, Interpol), with Beach House and Slowdive producer Chris Coady engineering and co-producing, making this the first time Fridmann and Coady had worked together on a project. While the vocals are more prominent than Deserta’s previous albums, it’s their amalgamation with the instrumental aspects that secures Every Moment, Everything You Need as Deserta’s most confident and assured release to date. An affecting emotional candor teamed with persistent riffs and tenacious rhythms sees Doty unafraid to dive deeper; an unrestrained approach that ushers in a lustrous purging of agitation and anxiety. Showcasing those dark, exhaustive thoughts through crucial swells and looped, electronic soundscapes, it’s an LP that’s infinitely layered, with something new to discover with each and every enchanting listen.

Ted K. Kaczynski is notorious for both tragically murdering three people (and wounding an additional 23) via bombs sent in the mail and for his numerous writings on the evils of technology he composed during his primitive residency in the woods of Montana. Film director Tony Stone's choice to have the renowned electronic artist Blanck Mass score the film is somewhat ironic and creates an obvious tension perfect for the controversial and complex subject matter. 2020 saw the first Blanck Mass movie score, for the soundtrack to Nick Rowland's acclaimed cinematic debut Calm with Horses. This expansion into new areas of melodic composition and textural exploration won Blanck Mass many new fans, with the BBC's acknowledged number one film buff Mark Kermode proclaiming the work the soundtrack of the year. In 2021, Blanck Mass won the prestigious Ivor Novello Award for Best Original Film Score and has firmly established himself at the forefront of the latest wave of experimental soundscape wizards. Recording during lockdown at his studio in Edinburgh, Scotland, Blanck Mass's Ben Power was in the perfect setting for a musical piece intended to capture the isolation central to Kaczynski's story. Power was also working with a director in a time zone 10 hours behind and thus many sessions required working in the middle of the night, which added a fitting intensity to the composition process. He said of the project "I wanted it to feel like an `epic'" and drew on the legends Sergio Leone and Ennio Morricone for inspiration in encapsulating the energy of the perceived good vs. evil. The gentle madness of sound achieved is exquisite and slowly builds in intensity and desperation as the score moves along. Power is able to perfectly capture the complexity, the terror and the deep emotionality of the film while presenting an often breathtakingly beautiful and always masterful album that stands on its own as a work of art. For Fans of Tim Hecker, Oneohtrix Point Never, DJ Shadow, Coil, Arca, Andy Stott, Fuck Buttons.

Bear’s Den have today announced the release of their eagerly anticipated fourth studio album, Blue Hours.

Set for release on May 13th via Communion Records, the album sees the much-loved folk-rock duo – made up of Andrew Davie and Kevin Jones – once again team up with producer Ian Grimble on what is one of their most personal records to date.

Speaking about the new album, Davie says: “Blue Hours is a kind of imaginary space you get into at night, a place where you process difficult things or where you try to figure everything out.”

Themes on the album include both self-reflection and mental health after both struggled with the latter in recent years. “It’s the main over-arching theme with this record,” Davie explains. The group, who have worked with mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) previously added: “It probably speaks to our struggles and hopefully many other people’s too. Men are not very good at talking. We’re not really taught how to – men have no idea how to talk about this stuff, certainly to each other.”

The pair describe the conceptual blue hours headspace that gives the new album its title as being “somewhere between a hotel, a mental health hospital, a bar that stays open later than anywhere else, a paradise, a dream, a nightmare and an endless sea of corridors and staircases leading you to rooms that represent memories – good, bad, happy or difficult.”

Despite the album’s challenging themes, it’s an album drenched in hope too. “We wanted this to be a celebration of music,” Jones continues. “I think that informed some of the bolder decision making on this record. At a time when music was so distant, it felt important to make an album that sounded hopeful, celebratory, ambitious and beautiful in spite of the heavy subject matter in some of the songs.” Jones adds: “It was almost like we needed to shout louder than before because we felt that there were more barriers between the audience and us. We needed something to transcend that.”

Following on from the album’s lead single, ‘All That You Are’, which was released late last year, the group have also given a further taster of what to expect from the new album with the release today of their bold, electronic-driven latest single, ‘Spiders’. Stream the new single here.

Speaking about the song, Davie says: “I started writing ‘Spiders’ around the time we left London. In my head, I thought moving would solve lots of problems, like everything will be better – almost like this Neverland vibe,” he laughs. “‘Spiders’ is a song dealing with the fact that this absolutely wasn’t the case. I had this vision in my head that I’d be at one with nature, that I’d be calmer – but all the things that were rattling around in my brain before were still there after the move. The song is about the fact you can’t run away from the things that are bothering you.”

Adding, “While making the record we wanted to get across a kind of simmering intensity with the song and the idea of someone trying to keep their shit together while wrestling with these darker thoughts and feelings. We wanted to get across a sense of bravery & triumph in saying, “sometimes I can’t pull myself out” of these difficult situations. To celebrate the difficult moments because we all have them. They are a universally shared experience even if it feels sometimes like they’re not and you’re the only one who feels them.”

Melodically, the song is a gentle Wurlitzer and guitar-driven track filled with hope thanks to the electronic elements added by long-term producer, Ian Grimble. “This song maybe sparked a lot of detail that ended up coming out on other songs on the album,” Davie says. “The sound of this felt exciting to us both,” Jones adds.