quête:the narrator

In literature an unreliable narrator is a narrator that can't be fully trusted, a
character whose credibility for some reason or another has been
compromised
When I chose to use the expression as the title for my new album, I did so
because I felt it resonated with me on a number of different levels.First of all, it
serves as an accurate way of describing my own lyrical universe, which has
always been a mash- up of real- life events and fiction. No one can tell for sure
what is real and what is made up. At times, even I find there can be a fluid
transition between the two poetic worlds. When I look back on my work, it is often
hard to tell where reality and fiction overlap.
Another factor that undoubtably and unavoidably bled into my writing this time,
was that I finished most of the new lyrics in the weeks and days leading up to the
2020 US Presidential election.
More than any time before, we witnessed a toxic political campaign that
consciously sought to mislead people. And any attempt at raising critical
questions and points of view were brutally brushed off and dismissed as fake
news. Several political narratives played out at the same time, all claiming they
exclusively owned THE TRUTH. A game of smoke and mirrors that for a lot of
people made it hard to decide who to believe. Who was the truthful and who was
the unreliable narrator of the political game?

Incl. Remixes by Red Axes, Roman Flügel & Abe Duque

What does it mean to exist in sound?

It does not begin with a beat, but with a choice. With the moment when someone decides not merely to inhabit the space, but to shape it – and in doing so, makes themselves visible.

Roman Flügel stands as a constant in the background. Not as an authority, but as a collective consciousness. Since the 1990s, he has moved through club music like a seeker, never content with the first answer. House, techno, experimentation – these are not genres, but states of being. His remix thinks, hesitates, opens, strikes like a surging acid wave, warping reality and demanding true presence.

New York taught him that club music is never neutral. It is body, friction, attitude. Abe Duque’s remix carries a strangely enchanting relentlessness, a resistance to smoothness – as if the dancefloor were a place where freedom is not claimed, but fought for.

Red Axes do not enter this space; they conjure it. Their sound is raw, repetitive, circular, as if deliberately refusing linearity. House, dub, and acid elements become material for a movement that is more trance than structure. Their remix does not ask where it is going; it asks why one should ever stand still.

And then there is Tim Paris. Not at the center, but as a narrator. As someone who knows that the voice is an attitude. “That Boy” is not a pose, but a mirror, ironic, direct, vulnerable. Paris moves between new wave house and club, always aware that identity is never fixed, but formed in the moment.

This remix record is not a gathering of names. It is a situation, four perspectives on the same question:

What does it mean to exist in sound?

Yet sound alone does not tell the full story: like music, the visual is a space to be shaped, felt, and deciphered. The cover of Tim Paris feat. Foremost Poets – That Boy, created by Konstantin Fürchtegott Kipfmüller, a visual artist at the Hochschule für Gestaltung in Offenbach under Heiner Blum, embodies this principle. Drawing inspiration from the urban environment, Kipfmüller transforms traces of decay, weather, and time into abstract narratives that, like the music of Tim Paris, Roman Flügel, Abe Duque and Red Axes, unfold meaning layer by layer. The result is no mere adornment, but a mirror of the sonic landscape: every line, every surface an echo of the question of what it means to exist – fully, in the moment, in sound.

2025 Repress
Gregory Porter’s “1960 What?” continues to be one of Expansion’s most sought after releases and comes now in new enhanced packaging. It combines the original with the Opolopo Kick & Bass re-Rub

Gregory Porter as narrator, sounding like Amiri Baraka, declares on “1960 What?” that “the motor city is burning y’all—that ain’t right” and refers to Martin Luther King Jr.’s death and describes trigger-happy policing (supported by a trumpet that blares, jabs, rumbles, and yearns); and the song portrays how certain events turn people against the possibilities of life and light. A vision that only recognizes strength and cruelty and rage is dangerously imperfect: rather, creativity, education, intelligence, sensitivity, democratic political participation, and compassionate social work are goals and virtues that can be affirmed, if not actively pursued, in all times.

For the first time on vinyl a collection of tracks by Cortex, Alain Neffe (Bene Gesserit,Insane Music) experimental spoken-word project originally released on tape in 1984.

Cortex was never intended to be a conventional musical project.
From the very beginning it was centered around free live performances. These encounters were stripped down and highly visual: Alain Neffe constructed a trapezoidal fluorescent white screen lit by black light.

The narrator—la récitante—was only illuminated in the face, while the rest of the stage remained in complete darkness.
This created a ghostly effect where the audience could see only her glowing face and dark silhouette. She was a beautiful young woman, with a striking presence, and beside her, Alain Neffe played synthesizer and created sonic effects.
The aim of Cortex was to deliver a minimalist and emotional experience, one centered on text and the voice of the narrator.

Most of the tracks that exist today were recorded informally during rehearsals, using two microphones placed in front of Marshall amps, captured directly to cassette.
La récitante could choose a text from a collection of hundreds. Then, the music was improvised in real time around her voice. That process, simple, direct, and instinctive produced a body of work that’s rough around the edges, but full of presence. It’s not polished, but that’s the point.

Cortex was focused entirely on the connection between voice and sound.

Limited to 300 copies

Dense, deep, drifting in the universe between dream, memory and reality.
Thought-provoking impulses with a philosophical background add an empathetic component to the power of the narrators' words in a charismatic way.
The common thread running through the four tracks like a warm red ribbon is a homage to the freedom of the individual.
A utopian sound clip that tells of acceptance and departure.

Theme Ltd presents two new releases from resident artist GAIKA
, also featuring THE NARRATOR and Liu. The two tracks circle between various influences and bear a bright flash of versatility from the artist and his collaborators. ‘Racing Gloves’ is underscored by THE NARRATOR’s melodious, delicately discordant passages. It’s then supplemented by GAIKA’s visceral, close-to-home rap style and calculated production. This textural balance, the two voices in tandem, makes for a perfect synchronicity. Not sure which voice to listen to? Pick up the gloves and go for a drive.

’S Composites’ featuring Liu, guides the listener between the gentle throes of multilingualism. It’s a unique mix of ethereal melodies supported by a classic RnB beat, enriched by a soft, swelling droning that seems to mimic breathing. As the track inflates and deflates, we’re carried by Liu’s honeyed vocals to her countdown, and the track’s final minute-long ‘breath’.

DJ support: Tim Sweeney, Make A Dance, Parris, Pleasure Voyage, Camillo Miranda

Back yard - Back yard is the first single from the new Teen Daze album, Elegant rhythms, and features singer-songwriter Andy Shauf on drums, and LA jazz staple, Sam Wilkes, on bass. This is a stark change in sound for Teen Daze, who’s last album Interior was an exploration of neon-lit House music. Back yard is a mellow groover, conjuring up images of Laurel Canyon in the 70s, yet still with its flourishes of contemporary sounds.

We’re out of phase again - We’re out of phase again is another vulnerable glimpse into the inner world of Teen Daze, and marks the release of his most personal album to date, Elegant rhythms. In contrast to the synthesized, digital world of his prior album, Interior, here we’ve been brought into a lush, organic arrangement, brought to you in large part to the stunning bass playing by Sam Wilkes. While the verses pulse forward, the chorus slows things down, and evokes the sophisti-pop sounds of The Blue Nile. This track is a stunning showcase of the world of Elegant rhythms.

Nothing’s gonna change my love - Teen Daze returns with his second single of the year, Nothing’s gonna change my love. The stark change in sound, as heard on previous single Back yard, is on display here again: a smouldering, 2 and a half minutes of slow jazz-pop, indebted to the great Sade, or perhaps the feeling of leaving downtown LA at 2 AM. Lyrically, we hear a story of a love, challenged by the unpredictable nature of our lives. This may be Teen Daze’s smoothest song to date.

Neighbourhood - Neighbourhood is the third single from the recently announced LP from Teen Daze, Elegant Rhythms. Along with Andy Shauf on the drums, and Sam Wilkes on the bass, Teen Daze gives us a languid tour of his quiet neighbourhood. The sun has set on the pleasant, tree-lined streets, and a stranger, more surreal environment presents itself. The song plods forward at an extremely comfortable pace, held down by the paradoxically loose-yet-tight rhythm section. Lyrically, we walk around the Neighbourhood at night, and while the chorus reveals a type of sobriety, the vibe of the song makes it easy to feel a little…effected.

Fade away - Fade away sets the tone for Elegant Rhythm’s side B: a deeply personal, though somewhat veiled, confession of loss. How does it feel to grieve something that was never really here? A smouldering, slowly progressing first half erupts in synthetic noise, and then fades into the ether with it’s repeating refrain, “I can feel you / feel you fade away / when there’s nothing / nothing left to say”.

Fall ahead - A sweet piano tune which serves as a quiet break in the record, intended to help the listener reflect and take a moment of pause before we reach the final two songs on the album.

HST underwater - The penultimate track on the record tells a story where the narrator finds themself in an alien, yet oddly familiar place. Arpeggios soaked in crystal blue water flow through the stereo field, while the narrator, vocoded and drenched in autotune, searches for meaning and purpose in a confusing world. This is one of Teen Daze’s most cinematic, emotional songs yet.

In the rain - It’s never really made explicitly clear on this record, but a lot of these songs find Teen Daze wrestling with life as a new father, and this song, the final on the album, expresses the fears of generational trauma. A touching, tender ode to his children, we hear Teen Daze at his most personal and vulnerable. The falling rain surrounds some absolutely breathtaking bass playing from Sam Wilkes, and Teen Daze’s signature ambient keyboard sounds.

Radio Support: Ruf Dug (Soup To Nuts on NTS)

The analog LP reissue of the original soundtrack album from the anime Mr. Ajikko, which aired in 1987. The original LP catalog number is K28G-7379, and the original
CD catalog number is K32X-7125, released on June 21, 1988 (the tracklist differs from the CD released in 2004, which included eight newly added tracks).
The original manga, created by Daisuke Terasawa, was serialized in Weekly Shonen Magazine from autumn 1986 to the end of 1989, and was adapted into an anime
series that aired on TV Tokyo from October 1987 to September 1989.

This is the only soundtrack album for the anime series. It features the opening theme “Renaissance Jounetsu” and the ending theme “Kokoro no Photograph”, both
composed and sung by singer songwriter Wataru Kuniyasu, who is also known for composing Akina Nakamori’s “Gypsy Queen”. Lyrics were written by Ikki Matsumoto,
and arrangements were done by Tatsumi Yano.

The album includes image songs, eyecatch music, and preview tracks, with contributions from renowned comedy song artists Masayuki Yamamoto (Side A tracks 4 and 6)
and Tatsuo Kamon (Side B tracks 1 and 7). The album was structured, scripted, and directed by the anime’s director Yasuhiro Imagawa, making it a variety style album.
The main background music (BGM) was composed and arranged by Daito Fujita (Side A tracks 1, 3, 5, 7; Side B tracks 3, 5). The original manga author Daisuke
Terasawa also contributed lyrics for two songs (Side B tracks 3 and 5). Voice actor Tomohiro Nishimura participated both as a singer (Side A track 8; Side B track 7)
and as an arranger (Side B track 7).

Voice actors Minami Takayama, Yoko Kawanami, Miki Narahashi, Hirotaka Suzuoki, and Kenyu Horiuchi also participated in min dramas and chorus segments.
This album, which comically and dramatically portrays cooking battles, is a “Bravo!” anime soundtrack that closes out the Showa era in style. After 37 years, it is finally
being reissued as an analog LP a long-awaited release for anime connoisseurs!

When we did the first ever vinyl reissue of this 1972 masterpiece back in 2012 it sold out so fast and so many lost the chance to grab a copy has translated into continuous messages asking us to do a repressing of this marvel - which we did and, again, it sold like hot bread. So here is a new edition of this UK jazz masterpiece, this time with a twist :

- Silk-screened cover art : we respect the original design, but have upgraded the printing from regular offset to silk screen to give it an artistic touch!

- In adition to the limited black vinyl edition (400 copies), we offer an ultra limited clear vinyl version (100 copies-only!)

One of the big names in UK Jazz, Neil Ardley was offered the leadership of the seminal New Jazz Orchestra in 1964. Under his direction the Orchestra moved though different styles and changes of personnel, bringing in musicians such as Mike Gibbs (trombone), Harry Beckett andHenry Lowther (trumpets) or even Jack Bruce (bass), some of them also contributed with the writing of some original compositions, making the NJO the root from which the UK's 70's jazz scene was to blossom.

By 1972 the NJO was already defunct, but his legacy remained in the works of its members. Ardley's 'A Symphony Of Amaranths' is a perfect example of what was boiling in the UK jazz scene. It was Ardleys tribute to his idols Duke Ellington and Gil Evans, and featured the skills of some great musicians of the scene including Don Rendell,Stan Tracey, Henry Lowther, Harry Beckett, Jeff Clyne & Jon Hiseman. Side B is inspired by the words of Edward Lear, W. B. Yeats, James Joyce and Lewis Carroll that are musicated by Ardley and feature, among other highlights, Ivor Cutler's narration of 'The Dong With A Luminous Nose' and Norma Winstone's vocals on 'Will You Walk A Little Faster'.



Musicians that participated in the recording session :

- Derek Watkins, Nigel Carter, Henry Lowther, Harold Beckett (trumpets)
- Derek Wadsworth, Ray Premru (trombones)
- Dick Hart (tuba)
- Barbara Thompson, Dave Gelly, Don Rendell, Dick Heckstall-Smith (woodwind, saxes)
- John Clementson (oboe)
- Bunny Gould (bassoon)
- Dave Gelly (glockenspiel)
- Neil Ardley (prepared piano)
- David Snell, Sidonie Goossens (harp)
- Stan Tracey (piano, celeste)
- Karl Jenkins (electric piano)
- Alan Branscombe (harpsichord)
- Frank Ricotti (vibraphone, percussion)
- Chris Laurence, Jeff Clyne (bass)
- Jon Hiseman (drums, percussion)
- Eric Gruenberg, Jack Rothstein, Kelly Isaacs (violin)
- Ken Essex (viola)
- Charles Tunnell, Francis Gabarro (cello)
- Ivor Cutler (narrator)
- Norma Winstone (vocal)
- Jack Rothstein, Neil Ardley (conductors)

When we did the first ever vinyl reissue of this 1972 masterpiece back in 2012 it sold out so fast and so many lost the chance to grab a copy has translated into continuous messages asking us to do a repressing of this marvel - which we did and, again, it sold like hot bread. So here is a new edition of this UK jazz masterpiece, this time with a twist :

- Silk-screened cover art : we respect the original design, but have upgraded the printing from regular offset to silk screen to give it an artistic touch!

- In adition to the limited black vinyl edition (400 copies), we offer an ultra limited clear vinyl version (100 copies-only!)

One of the big names in UK Jazz, Neil Ardley was offered the leadership of the seminal New Jazz Orchestra in 1964. Under his direction the Orchestra moved though different styles and changes of personnel, bringing in musicians such as Mike Gibbs (trombone), Harry Beckett andHenry Lowther (trumpets) or even Jack Bruce (bass), some of them also contributed with the writing of some original compositions, making the NJO the root from which the UK's 70's jazz scene was to blossom.

By 1972 the NJO was already defunct, but his legacy remained in the works of its members. Ardley's 'A Symphony Of Amaranths' is a perfect example of what was boiling in the UK jazz scene. It was Ardleys tribute to his idols Duke Ellington and Gil Evans, and featured the skills of some great musicians of the scene including Don Rendell,Stan Tracey, Henry Lowther, Harry Beckett, Jeff Clyne & Jon Hiseman. Side B is inspired by the words of Edward Lear, W. B. Yeats, James Joyce and Lewis Carroll that are musicated by Ardley and feature, among other highlights, Ivor Cutler's narration of 'The Dong With A Luminous Nose' and Norma Winstone's vocals on 'Will You Walk A Little Faster'.



Musicians that participated in the recording session :

- Derek Watkins, Nigel Carter, Henry Lowther, Harold Beckett (trumpets)
- Derek Wadsworth, Ray Premru (trombones)
- Dick Hart (tuba)
- Barbara Thompson, Dave Gelly, Don Rendell, Dick Heckstall-Smith (woodwind, saxes)
- John Clementson (oboe)
- Bunny Gould (bassoon)
- Dave Gelly (glockenspiel)
- Neil Ardley (prepared piano)
- David Snell, Sidonie Goossens (harp)
- Stan Tracey (piano, celeste)
- Karl Jenkins (electric piano)
- Alan Branscombe (harpsichord)
- Frank Ricotti (vibraphone, percussion)
- Chris Laurence, Jeff Clyne (bass)
- Jon Hiseman (drums, percussion)
- Eric Gruenberg, Jack Rothstein, Kelly Isaacs (violin)
- Ken Essex (viola)
- Charles Tunnell, Francis Gabarro (cello)
- Ivor Cutler (narrator)
- Norma Winstone (vocal)
- Jack Rothstein, Neil Ardley (conductors)

Taba voices a subtle yet surprising shift for the Japanese musician and producer Satomimagae. Observing and absorbing the fleeting scenes and sounds of life flowing outside of her home studio, Taba unfolds as a series of vignettes that document the personal and the universal. Satomi sings beyond herself in an orbit of souls and systems known and unknown, seen and unseen, in the present and in the strange flux of memory, leaving linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture. Following the logic of taba, a Japanese term for a bunch, bundle or grouping together of different things, the album is assembled as a loose collection of short stories. Shapeshifting into something like a poet-narrator, Satomi casts her writer's eye to the often perplexing shapes that form from quotidian events and exchanges defining our increasingly alienated age. Where Satomi's last full-length, 2021's Hanazono, bloomed from the lush soil of a private inner sphere, the bird's eye of Taba searches to place the artist_somewhere, somehow_within a wider, wilder world. Collaborations with other artists and musicians close to Satomi's universe further elevate the album's sweeping sonics. Synthesizer lines from Norio, who also helps define the album's visual identity through photo and video, enliven the tender ballad "Kodama." The bell-like Rhodes piano ringing in and around Satomi's guitar on "Dottsu" is played by Akhira Sano, who created the cover art for her 2021 Colloid EP. Yuya Shito's clarinet was the missing puzzle piece that completed "Spells," and it was also Yuya who mixed Taba with an ear for its organic textures and elegantly frayed edges, giving utterance to a distinctly different energy than Satomi's earlier expressions. The tonal and rhythmic play that lay the foundation of these songs also animates a colorful palette of melodic gestures, noisy resonances and pointed moments captured by Satomi's close-at-hand recorder. While Taba is still carried by the innate intimacy that has defined Satomi's music to date, these songs channel her newly spacious and inquisitive songwriting approach, unlocking unusual layers in the process. Some are subsumed in the speculative poetics of sound design, while others peer through the window of bedroom pop. Gathering imagistic reflections, tracing vast ideations and quietly lingering in humble moments, Taba connects vivid lines between the individual and the collective, the constructed and the cosmic, the articulated and the felt. Satomi's sonic tales gain an eloquent coherence by the simple fact of existing in conversation, humming a harmony of parts that buzzes with the tangled circuitry of a life in motion. Taba is the fifth album from Japanese musician, songwriter and dream traveler Satomimagae, following her 2021 album Hanazono and the 2023 reissue of her debut album Awa, both for RVNG Intl. On Taba, Satomimagae leaves linear songwriting to rest for circuitous stories expanded and expansive in tone and texture, unfolding as a series of vignettes that document both the personal and the universal. Some of the songs on Taba feature intimate moments captured on Satomi's hand recorder, poetic moments of sound design animated by tonal and rhythmic bedroom pop foundations. As with Hanazono, Taba's album artwork features a wooden block print by Satomi's sister, the artist Natsumi Magae.

Neon Orange & Black Vinyl. With Information (2019), Cleveland-raised, New York-based producer and DJ Galcher Lustwerk marked his debut LP on Ghostly International, having already carved out a lane of low-key hip-house music with his instant classic 100% GALCHER mixtape: deep, smooth, psychedelic, equally cut for the club, after-hours, night drives, and headphones. Lustwerk leveled up for Information, experimenting with more live drums and jazz saxophone to create a new dynamic, what he considered a hookier, more bittersweet, Midwest mindset. Lustwerk emerged in 2013 with the game-changing 100% GALCHER for the beloved mix series Blowing Up The Workshop, later named a mix of the decade by Resident Advisor. The signature sound - a smoky stream-of-consciousness baritone shadow-boxing with beats, informed by funk, rap, rhythm, and blues - felt like an epiphany distinctly linked to the expanse of Midwest driving and the strobe-lit detachment of club culture. Now over a decade into his musical vision, Lustwerk remains an elusive nightlife narrator, embodied by the hooks and a growing catalog that's proven influential and singular.

Sunset edition - 300 copies

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Iit is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom.

Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft.

Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before.

Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey Buckingham” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded.

The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

Words by Emmett Shoemaker

Fust--the lyrical powerhouse Southern rock band from Durham, North Carolina--announce their new album Big Ugly, out March 7th on Dear Life Records, the record label that launched the careers of MJ Lenderman and Florry and that has become a haven for contemporary songwriters. Big Ugly arrives after the release of 2024's Songs of the Rail--"one of the best alt-country compilations_in a long, long time" (Paste) -- and 2023's standout Genevieve, which unassumingly introduced new listeners to Fust's unmistakable blend of "small-town poetry" (Mojo) with a familiar yet probing "country-tinged folk-rock" (KEXP) that made it "one of the most fun rock records of the year" (Pitchfork). Genevieve was their studio debut, recorded with producer Alex Farrar (Manning Fireworks, Rat Saw God, Tomorrow's Fire) in Asheville, North Carolina. The reception was far better than the band expected, stirring them to immediately start working on Big Ugly, their second collaboration with Farrar. Recorded over ten days in June of 2024, Big Ugly is the explosive sound of Fust uncovering a freedom within their sincere form of loose and fried guitar rock, realizing more than ever before an intimacy within bigness. The members -- Aaron Dowdy, Avery Sullivan, Frank Meadows, John Wallace, Justin Morris, Libby Rodenbough, Oliver Child-Lanning--weave their voices alongside guests like Merce Lemon, Dave Hartley (The War on Drugs), and John James Tourville (The Deslondes) to form a music that sounds like a conversation between old friends. And that's exactly what it is. At its heart, Big Ugly is a story cycle, following tough-skinned characters who seem to inhabit a shared and fictional small town--Big Ugly--that in reality gets its name from a lowly populated and unincorporated area in southern West Virginia around where Dowdy's family has deep roots. The album cover_a mural from the Big Ugly Community Center just off the Big Ugly Creek--was painted by locals for a 2004 play performed by the children that interpreted their elders' stories. In a way, Fust's Big Ugly does something similar as it takes the same area as its backdrop and reimagines a life depicted in the mural between the bars, gas stations, general stores, and double-wides. Throughout the album, we join the characters in finding history and meaning in the banal theater of their own private jerkwater.The songs on Big Ugly are hearteningly varied, moving from beer-fisted radio country to elegiac drones to deconstructed ballads. Songs like "Spangled" take up the theme of past traumas and present desensitizations colliding, of the small and cosmic coinciding in the life of a heedless protagonist. "Bleached" finds the soul-searching narrator recalling the feeling of inner vacancy in their childhood: thoughtless, speechless, herded around like cattle in backseats. And "Mountain Language" laments the poverties of Southern life at the same time that it promotes a higher poverty, a country utopia that's just out of grasp, where we could live if we could only "make it up the mountain again." The mystical hermeticism and the dime-store everyday are two sides of every insignificant thing in the town of Big Ugly.

Maud the moth, the solo project of Spanish-born and Scotland-based pianist, singer and songwriter Amaya Lopez-Carromero announces her new album, The Distaff, to be released via The Larvarium (digital +CD) and La Rubia Producciones (vinyl) Amaya has long used the mantle of Maud the moth as an alter-ego, a séance-like conduit to explore themes of rootlessness, identity and trauma. The Distaff in particular refers to the stick or spindle onto which wool or flax is wound for spinning, and an object which has historically been used across multiple cultures as a symbol wielded by the “virtuous woman”, an authoritarian ideal around which much of the trauma surrounding the feminine coalesces. The album takes the form of a sort of self reflective and surreal autobiography. It was in part inspired by the poem of the same name written by the Greek poet Erinna, as she mourns her friend's loss of individuality and agency in exchange for marriage - and therefore safety and acceptance in the eyes of society. The album exists in an ethereal but violent world of aesthetic overlaps where time stands still and fictional and reimagined folk sits at the table with Maud the moth’s usual sonic menagerie. It is the result of a lifetime of obsession with sound and music, where glimpses of musical genre offer insight into Amaya’s artistic interests and her participation in the underground European scene for many years, in bands such as healthyliving. Heavier, darker, and more exposed than any of her previous works it features some highly accomplished artists, such as Seb Rochford (Patti Smith, Polar Bear, Sons of Kemet, Pulled by magnets, etc.) on drums, Alison Chesley (Helen Money) on cello, Fay Guiffo on violin and Scott McLean (Ashenspire, healthyliving, Falloch) on guitar, saxophone and synthesiser. Maud the moth shares the video for "Siphonophores". About the track, Maud the moth says; I wrote "Siphonophores" on guitar, during the first lockdown, a period where I was kind of trapped between an almost empty flat in Edinburgh and Dresden. It was an incredibly harrowing time, but also one of hope and where important new things were being birthed. I felt incredibly sensitive to everything, almost like life was happening in slow motion. I´m not a confident guitarist since I am completely self-taught, but, probably because of this, I feel that this instrument allows me to focus on aspects of the songwriting that I normally overlook when writing on piano, and I think it was a necessary step for this song to exist. Something else which I've been really exploiting lately and features strongly in the album is the percussive capabilities of the piano, and in particular, of the sustain pedal when mic'd up. This can be heard very clearly at the beginning of "Siphonophores". Written and arranged by Amaya, with some contributions in the later role from the aforementioned collaborators, the album presents nine tracks originally written entirely on acoustic piano as accompanied voice pieces, in pure singer-songwriter fashion. The album was co-produced and recorded by Scott and Amaya in different studios across the UK between January and July of 2024, in a process that started shortly after the 2020 pandemic and finished alongside the album recordings in a detailed, organic and at times obsessive process aimed primarily at capturing the natural dynamics and expression of free performance. The Distaff was mixed in its entirety by Scott and mastered at Abbey Road by Alex Wharton (Radiohead, My Bloody Valentine, Aurora, Kathryn Joseph etc.) Despite being born of a very personal point of view, the album lacks a specific narrator and was conceived almost as a sonic trousseau, where the needle point, silks and other family heirlooms have been swapped for out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye memories of rural Spain by the vineyards, family disputes, old tales of wartime pains, generational breaches and finally the conflict of migration and estrangement. The songs paint dystopian pastoral scenes which evolve throughout the span of one fictional day outside of time and coherent locations and where imagination (often the only account surviving from traumatic events and gaslighting) has become indistinguishable from fact. The Distaff attempts to acknowledge past trauma, comprehend and process some of the more difficult aspects which have contributed to our darker self and offer closure and solace through creative catharsis.

Maud the moth, the solo project of Spanish-born and Scotland-based pianist, singer and songwriter Amaya Lopez-Carromero announces her new album, The Distaff, to be released via The Larvarium (digital +CD) and La Rubia Producciones (vinyl) Amaya has long used the mantle of Maud the moth as an alter-ego, a séance-like conduit to explore themes of rootlessness, identity and trauma. The Distaff in particular refers to the stick or spindle onto which wool or flax is wound for spinning, and an object which has historically been used across multiple cultures as a symbol wielded by the “virtuous woman”, an authoritarian ideal around which much of the trauma surrounding the feminine coalesces. The album takes the form of a sort of self reflective and surreal autobiography. It was in part inspired by the poem of the same name written by the Greek poet Erinna, as she mourns her friend's loss of individuality and agency in exchange for marriage - and therefore safety and acceptance in the eyes of society. The album exists in an ethereal but violent world of aesthetic overlaps where time stands still and fictional and reimagined folk sits at the table with Maud the moth’s usual sonic menagerie. It is the result of a lifetime of obsession with sound and music, where glimpses of musical genre offer insight into Amaya’s artistic interests and her participation in the underground European scene for many years, in bands such as healthyliving. Heavier, darker, and more exposed than any of her previous works it features some highly accomplished artists, such as Seb Rochford (Patti Smith, Polar Bear, Sons of Kemet, Pulled by magnets, etc.) on drums, Alison Chesley (Helen Money) on cello, Fay Guiffo on violin and Scott McLean (Ashenspire, healthyliving, Falloch) on guitar, saxophone and synthesiser. Maud the moth shares the video for "Siphonophores". About the track, Maud the moth says; I wrote "Siphonophores" on guitar, during the first lockdown, a period where I was kind of trapped between an almost empty flat in Edinburgh and Dresden. It was an incredibly harrowing time, but also one of hope and where important new things were being birthed. I felt incredibly sensitive to everything, almost like life was happening in slow motion. I´m not a confident guitarist since I am completely self-taught, but, probably because of this, I feel that this instrument allows me to focus on aspects of the songwriting that I normally overlook when writing on piano, and I think it was a necessary step for this song to exist. Something else which I've been really exploiting lately and features strongly in the album is the percussive capabilities of the piano, and in particular, of the sustain pedal when mic'd up. This can be heard very clearly at the beginning of "Siphonophores". Written and arranged by Amaya, with some contributions in the later role from the aforementioned collaborators, the album presents nine tracks originally written entirely on acoustic piano as accompanied voice pieces, in pure singer-songwriter fashion. The album was co-produced and recorded by Scott and Amaya in different studios across the UK between January and July of 2024, in a process that started shortly after the 2020 pandemic and finished alongside the album recordings in a detailed, organic and at times obsessive process aimed primarily at capturing the natural dynamics and expression of free performance. The Distaff was mixed in its entirety by Scott and mastered at Abbey Road by Alex Wharton (Radiohead, My Bloody Valentine, Aurora, Kathryn Joseph etc.) Despite being born of a very personal point of view, the album lacks a specific narrator and was conceived almost as a sonic trousseau, where the needle point, silks and other family heirlooms have been swapped for out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye memories of rural Spain by the vineyards, family disputes, old tales of wartime pains, generational breaches and finally the conflict of migration and estrangement. The songs paint dystopian pastoral scenes which evolve throughout the span of one fictional day outside of time and coherent locations and where imagination (often the only account surviving from traumatic events and gaslighting) has become indistinguishable from fact. The Distaff attempts to acknowledge past trauma, comprehend and process some of the more difficult aspects which have contributed to our darker self and offer closure and solace through creative catharsis.

Ginnels never let up. Though it has been, staggeringly, eight long years since the last irresistible jangle pop transmission under the Ginnels moniker, nothing much has changed in Mark Chester's approach when it comes to the practice of music making, even if much everything else for Chester has seen considerable flux – he's now a father of two, and most shockingly of all for an indie popster of his ilk, gainfully employed. "It definitely started the same way all Ginnels stuff starts," Chester explains, "which is just me looking through five years of phone demos and going 'that's a decent song' and 'that's a decent song', and if you keep that up then you have a full album."

The man himself might be coyly committed to making his process sound as pedestrian as possible, but from the moment the delicate chiming introduction of album opener 'The Body Was Gone' goes widescreen – revealing an expanded sonic palette richer in timbre and exponentially wider in scope than anything Chester has let out into the world thus far – it is apparent that "The Picturesque" is poised to be less than parochial in its sonic purview.

From here, "The Picturesque" plays like a gauzy road trip Super 8 footage cutting between scenes of sunset at Monument Valley and B-roll from around middle-Ireland, entirely soundtracked by some enchanted mixtape of heretofore unheard B sides from REM, XTC and The Go-Betweens, unexpected guest appearances from the surprisingly together-sounding ghost of Johnny Thunders and snippets from your coolest friends' unreleased instrumental experiments. All liberally rippled with Chester's unique ear for melody and appetite for the unexpected when it comes to crafting guitar parts. And this, by design, feels like a Guitar Record, above all else.

For all its effortlessly sticky lyrical and melodic twists, "The Picturesque" separates itself within the mighty Ginnels catalogue in both the dexterity in playing and diversity in tone on show across these 12 tracks. And 12, of course as we know, being the optimum number of tracks for any LP to have, so bonus points for that too.

Drink Ring Jesus, the second album from Nashville based singer-songwriter Simmons was originally released in 2006 during a period of vast political and social change in America. Post 9/11 the age-old battle between good and evil, God versus Satan if you want to get personal, once again eased into view agitating hearts and minds. Like all songwriters with just their art to carve themselves a foothold in a world becoming less identifiable, Simmons produced an album that is both intimate and deeply inquisitive yet, like all the great folk records, its universal themes of hope, redemption, pain and despair will resonate with all who hear it.

Nearly twenty years on from its initial release Drink Ring Jesus feels as relevant now as it did then. From the opening lines of the title track Simmons is clearly caught in a time of intense personal reflection. It’s not an unusual pathway to tread for songwriters and artists alike, indeed many have fell by its wayside over the years, yet here our narrator is both looking for a way through and calling on something deeper than just instinct for guidance. We are right on the frontline, characters battling on the very precipice of sanctuary or sacrifice on the likes Time To Pay and Devil’s Work Is Never Done, before literally scavenging a ticket to Hope Station on the evocative Next Stop Redemption. There isn’t a moment where you feel Simmons is taking the easy way out or shying from titanic confrontation. Anything but. It’s in the no-mans land where these songs impact the most, at the very alchemy where despair turns to optimism or defeat.

On FORGIVENESS, SLIM0 sets the scene with a scream tearing apart the silence. “Stars! I’m Coming!” introduces the Danish/Montegrinian/Iranian trio's debut album in mere 1:11 mins; it’s disruptive, energetic, almost scornful. The stage is filled with a multitude of characters at high pace, but are we witnessing a comedy or a tragedy? The opening soon gives way to a much gloomier mood throughout, revealing a full body of work conveyed through personal takes on classic rock tropes with SLIM0 as the omniscient narrator.

FORGIVENESS came to life through long live session jams and recordings melted into their rawest essence by the enigmatic artist and producer Aase Nielsen, who has closely collaborated with the group in forming their first full length release. Urgency, noise and desire characterise the musical and artistic expression on the record, where hardcore rock lives side by side with pop cultural references. On previous releases, SLIM0 have drawn upon choir, alternative indie, prog rock and grunge (EPs ‘sol i øjet’ and ‘lifespan’ as well as multiple singles). FORGIVENESS sees them cultivating all of these elements while stepping into an even meaner space, and which better place to go to for this than the world of punk, rock, doom.

Bastille melden mit einem neuen Album „&“ zurück! Es handelt sich um ein Soloprojekt von Dan, das
unter ‘Bastille Presents‘ erscheinen wird.
Das Album ist in jeder Hinsicht zurückhaltend, von der Musik bis zum Kreativen. Textlich schöpft das
Album aus den Geschichten interessanter Individuen und Charaktere im Laufe der Geschichte. Dan spricht
über das Album: ”Ich wollte eine schöne Sammlung von Story-Songs machen - mit dem Leben von verschiedenen interessanten Menschen - um über das Leben, mein Leben und menschliche Erfahrungen zu
sprechen. Diese Sammlung von Tracks klingt intim, organisch und anders, als die Leute es vielleicht
erwarten, und ich bin sehr stolz auf das Gesamtwerk.”

Recorded by long-time collaborator and producer Elliot Heinrich at the band’s own Pony Studios in East London, it’s clear that Tempesst spent time developing a sound tailored to the subject matter. Parallels can be drawn from the great alternative writers of the nineties (Stipe, Buckley, Cocker) by way of the storied lineage of the dark narrators (Cohen, Waits, Cave). “My process is mostly reactive, like writing a journal and reflecting on what I watch, read and listen to,” says Lyricist Toma Banjanin, citing “The Myth of Sisyphus” by Albert Camus as an influence of the record. Forbidden Fruit showcases a new sound, shedding their previous Spector-esque production for a modern hi-fi approach. Tempesst maintain a surrealist soundscape with precision, conjuring images of René Magritte: layered sounds within sounds to draw the listener deeper. They lean into chaos, with fuzz-infused, reverb-laden guitars that drone through the record indifferent to harmony, restrained by a swampy rhythm section. Tempesst reach for the bright lights of the expressionist late eighties while descending into the rawness of the early nineties.

Probably in another life David Edren (DSR Lines) was a visionary biologist or chemist. In this new sound adventure, he becomes the narrator of anatomical and cellular symphonies, catharsis of invisible biochemical processes, painting the micro-dimensional flows of the subtle body or imaginary geographies of hidden micro-bodies. Here, his organic electronic music is enriched with new lymphs that also vaguely recall the influences of non-European music, especially Chinese and Japanese music (stick and chimes percussions) in an intimate and twilight dimension, poised between exotic ambient and cinematic suggestions. A miniaturistic description of liquid currents, labyrinthine veins, weaving streams, molecules and particles in multi-orbital dances, muscular chords, drowning bubbles, light waves; all in a confident compositional overview that is absolutely unique and fascinating.

Probably in another life David Edren (DSR Lines) was a visionary biologist or chemist. In this new sound adventure, he becomes the narrator of anatomical and cellular symphonies, catharsis of invisible biochemical processes, painting the micro-dimensional flows of the subtle body or imaginary geographies of hidden micro-bodies. Here, his organic electronic music is enriched with new lymphs that also vaguely recall the influences of non-European music, especially Chinese and Japanese music (stick and chimes percussions) in an intimate and twilight dimension, poised between exotic ambient and cinematic suggestions. A miniaturistic description of liquid currents, labyrinthine veins, weaving streams, molecules and particles in multi-orbital dances, muscular chords, drowning bubbles, light waves; all in a confident compositional overview that is absolutely unique and fascinating.

Okokon returns to Other People with his sophomore album, 'Offering', delving deeper into the lush and cinematic soundscapes he first explored on his debut album, 'Turkson Side'. While primarily working in visual arts, Africanus Okokon, who records under his surname, bridges his artistic practices in 'Offering', using his masterful collage techniques to create his most personal work yet. Defying easy
categorization, the album melds influences from dream pop, avant-garde folk, psychedelia, trip hop, and dub, with traces of field recordings seamlessly blended throughout to form a cohesive whole.
'Offering' sees Okokon confronting and negotiating a sudden and unexplained death that occurred in his childhood and the complex emotions left in its aftermath, acting as his main inspiration when
making the album. This ambiguity is something that permeates throughout, with Okokon wanting to explore the ambivalence and sometimes uneasiness of contradicting emotions appearing
simultaneously, alluded to in the album title. This is also reflected in how the album tracks each inhabit different narrators with varying perspectives on the same events. The result being a hauntingly
beautiful album, with recurring themes of death, growth, sacrifice and spirituality ever present.

Transcendental poetry meets Southern Nightmare Jazz on the third album by Alabama-based artist Johnny Coley Mister Sweet Whisper is the meeting of poet & artist Johnny Coley and the band Worst Spills, led by guitarist & arranger Joel Nelson. (Imagine "King Tubbys Meets Rockers Uptown," but more like "William Burroughs Meets Lounge Lizards in Ghost Swamp"). Joined by vibraphone player and recordist of the group, Jasper Lee, Mister Sweet Whisper centers Coley as a gifted writer and unique elder voice, supported by an eclectic cast of friends & collaborators. Tapping into French surrealism and transgressive American poets such as John Ashbery, the songs in Mister Sweet Whisper evolve, cinema-like, with Coley as an uninhibited, almost mystical, narrator. Textural, jazz-like playing complements Coley's decadent landscapes, which glide by like cigarette-inspired invocations. Echoing, and at times, dissonant notes of saxophone, crystalline tones of vibraphone, and jagged guitar arrangements punctuate Coley's dreamlike visions, populated by ballet dancers, haunting nightclubs, and ghostly car drivers. Wistful and expansive, the songs in Mister Sweet Whisper speak of Coley's talent and natural ability to channel his poetic world into songs. A remarkable follow-up to Coley's first two albums_Antique Sadness, from 2021, and Landscape Man, from 2022_which were praised as "exquisitely haunting, sublime, hilarious" and falling "somewhere between Robert Ashley, David Wojnarowicz, and Intersystems," Mister Sweet Whisper arrives in full form: unpredictable and brilliant. LP comes with a 4-page booklet featuring artwork and writing by Johnny. Pressed in black vinyl.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Love Is A Flame In The Dark is the debut album by experimental songwriter Karl D’Silva. A raw labour of love, a towering spire of twisted steel, tenderness and becoming, it’s a body of songs that belies the virtuoso talents of an artist whose reputation has been built on collaborating with various avant garde underground luminaries. Self-recorded at home in Rotherham and pulsing with the conviction of a true believer, these songs burst out of their self-consciousness to meet life head on, bristling with energy, 10 glimpses of the human spirit in the darkness.
Recorded throughout 2021 - 2023 and mixed in Leeds with engineer Ross Halden, D’Silva has constructed a Pop language for himself. Mutated songs that owe a small debt to the post-Industrial music of Cabaret Voltaire, Nine Inch Nails and Coil, they’re nonetheless powered by a vigorous tenderness, earnestness and D’Silva’s knack for melody. Each song is meticulously sound-designed, using synthesised sounds created from scratch married with D’Silva’s virtuoso playing on saxophone and guitar. The songs on Love Is A Flame In The Dark are unabashed, earnest love letters to living, requiems for a world fading away and small gestures of solidarity in the face of entropy.
Until now, D’Silva’s fingerprints could be found on live dates with Thurston Moore, Oren Ambarchi, Hardcore pioneers Siege and Rian Treanor as well as recordings by previous groups Trumpets Of Death and Drunk In Hell. Primarily associated with the alto saxophone in his improvisation work, Love Is A Flame In The Dark features a dizzying array of instrumentation, all played by D’Silva. D’Silva’s current membership of the group Vanishing may be a good touchstone for the dense, sonically thrilling world-building on the album but the most
striking instrument, perhaps, is D’Silva’s voice. With a soulful, rasping timbre resulting from prolonged intubation as a new-born, his vocal is both fearless and tender. On the soaring, electronic body mover Wild Kiss, thundering percussion is in service to Karl’s voice full of desire, arching up into a flayed falsetto. It’s a trick repeated on Flowers Start To Cry, where it’s deployed against the backdrop of layers of ripping alto and thudding drum programming that recall Nine Inch Nails’ visceral production, if they were covering a Prince hit. These songs capture the essence of 2024’s Karl D’Silva music; pure physicality
breaking down to reveal a shining, compassionate vulnerability.
The full breadth of Karl D’Silva’s instrumental prowess is in evidence from the off. On The Outside imagines blooming out of personal apocalypse with a soundscape of synth, saxophone worthy of any late 60s Free Jazz blower and crushing sound design. Entropy is planet-sized synth pop, Nowhere Left To Run uses midi-string orchestration to tell a story of light emerging from the dark. It’s a theme picked up
throughout the album: The Butcher is a political parable, the narrator holding power to account with grotesque, brutal imagery. It’s on a track
like Real Life that the true message emerges, however. D’Silva is peering through the layers of artifice, struggle and the fog of daily
living to find a life full of energy, connection and light. Each song here is a route into this light, out of the darkness.

History must take its course.
Demon Records presents, for the first time on double 140g green and
yellow translucent vinyl, the complete narrated TV soundtrack of ‘Doctor
Who: The Crusade’, with linking narration by William Russell.
The TARDIS travellers materialise in 12th Century Palestine, where
English Crusaders are engaged in a holy war with Saladin, ruler of the
Saracens. When Barbara (Jacqueline Hill) is abducted in a Saracen
ambush, the Doctor (William Hartnell), Vicki (Maureen O’Brien) and Ian
(William Russell) find themselves guests at the palace of King Richard
the Lionheart (Julian Glover).
First broadcast in March and April 1965, the story has become a noted
classic among Doctor Who historical adventures, with a guest cast
including Julian Glover and Jean Marsh.
Only two of its four episodes survive in the BBC TV archive, but this vinyl
release features the complete audio soundtrack. Includes beautifully
illustrated individual sleeves featuring Radio Times-style billings for each
episode.
This release is dedicated to the memory of narrator William Russell, who
died in June aged 99.
Doctor Who is available now on BBC iPlayer in the UK and on Disney+ in the rest of the world,

Swiss intergalactic 3 piece experimentalists lean on a Dadaist theme for their late-night, jam-inspired, and smokey beat laden trip to the cosmos.

Distilling surf rock, jazz and ambience, energised and patched together with spoken word samples, wind instruments and, blunted hip hop beats, ali dada’s album SUM is their invitation to dadaversum’ - their eccentric universe of sound and emotion.

Featuring Orlando Ludens (guitar & ambient soundscapes), Rulla (beats & field recordings) and Max Licht (brass & trombone), experimentation is the trio’s constant and SUM is the result of jams and associative distillation’ always with a fluid sense of genre.

Whilst SUM clearly takes new and furtive steps, ali dada’s sound is wholly their own. Nothing feels rigid here and rules don’t apply. Improvisation lingers in the air, even after the last note fades. A series of sound sketches, dense in detail, stylistically rich, SUM gives licence to couch-melt, sungaze or for those used to wintry climes, add another log on the fire.

“The songs often emerge from imperfect elements or mistakes, like from a loop or glitch. or something I played that wasn’t quite clean and building on that becomes the challenge ” recalls Orlando. Rulla adds “I play a lot of instruments, very, very badly and in music production, I’m trained to craft something awesome out of wonky sounds. That’s how songs emerge from unusual sounds”.

As for who played the double bass, no one remembers. Who belongs to the band and who doesn’t is open to interpretation. Though a core group exists the spotlight remains on experimentation through jam sessions. ali dada is a construct, a dadaverse.

Highlights include the album’s opener 'abolish the police', a mix of guitars, weirded-out wind instruments and Häuserfrau’s ever chilled vocal presence. 'tone print' is the band’s first single from the album, which combines sliding guitar, the infamous psychedelic Tim as a narrator, some early CPU game sound-splats and a meteoric dope beat, providing the head nodding groove. 'ohnedi'’s ambient charm features some gorgeous manipulated choir moments and some fidgety electronic synths.

This is going to be the scariest spoken word record you’ve ever heard. We’re not joking…and neither is Vincent Price. The star of such horror classics as House of Wax, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, and Theatre of Blood (and, of course, narrator of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video) can barely hide his delight while he takes his audience through a graphic and occasionally grisly history lesson in witchcraft from the Bible through the Middle Ages, the Spanish Inquisition, and Nazi Germany. Then, accompanied by occasional eerie, abstract electronic music, Price’s sinister satisfaction only mounts as he provides instruction in the dark arts, with such tracks as “How to Make a Pact with the Devil” and “Curses, Spells, Charms.” It’s all in good fun, of course…or is it? The mysterious writer of the script, one Terry d’Oberoff, has only one other credit to his name: as the “mascot” of an early ‘70s band called…wait for it…Black Magic. This 1969 double-LP release has long been coveted by collectors of the curious and macabre, and for its first reissue in over 50 years, we are giving it the Real Gone treatment, reproducing the gatefold jacket and the full-size, 8-page booklet that accompanied some copies. It’s a combination history textbook and how-to manual in witchcraft, with a title page depicting a particularly unsettling spell called “The Hand of Glory” involving the severed, salted, and dried hand of a convicted felon. We are releasing this one-of-a-kind album on clear with orange “pumpkin” swirl vinyl…Happy Halloween.

10 years after its release, Lydia Loveless sits down at the piano for an intimate reimagining of her landmark album, Somewhere Else. Title track featuring guest vocals by Jason Isbell. “Over the last 10 years I’ve been told by countless people, emotional and earnest, that their favorite record of mine is Something Else. I love that, and I nod in amused reverence to it here. The me of 2012-2013 was drowning in pain and insecurity and my own press, pissed off that nobody could see me for who I really was, what I had really been through, and how hard it was to be me. I was walled in by fears and worries that I would never be good enough. I was struggling with my voice after a debilitating virus and a six week tour. I had rented a little room in the Grandview neighborhood of Columbus and was plugging away on my splintered acoustic guitar with a tape recorder.

I was frustrated as could be, not coming up with anything that I felt was 'me' or even remotely song like. One day, when I finally thought I had a nugget of something, I read the lyrics aloud to my then husband and he looked at me confused and said, 'what are you even trying to say in this, though? Who is the narrator?' I don’t remember what I said to that but I’m sure it wasn’t kind. When I went back into the studio with my friend Caeleigh Featherstone recording me this go round, she looked at me at one point and said, 'Were you singing these songs in front of old dudes? Like, your husband?' Yes, I was, I told her. We both shook our heads and laughed at the hubris on 22-year-old Lydia Loveless.” - Lydia Loveless

Darren Hayman New Starts are a spikey, fresh sounding band recalling the poppier ends of new wave and angular guitar rock. Their influences include The Cars, Breeders, Bay City Rollers, The Velvet Underground and ZZ Top. Lead singer Darren Hayman has his own long career running from the late 90s with John Peel faves Hefner to his more recent thematic and historical albums dealing with the English Civil War, William Morris and forgotten rural idylls. “I wanted a band again,” says Hayman, “and not a band that just backed me up and played my old songs. When we form our first bands in our teens we just find some friends and work through the musical differences. I usually look for players who play in a way I’m used to. This time I looked for variance and was led by people’s personality.” Guitarist Joely Smith of South London’s noise-pop adults and recently DIY-punks Fresh was recommended by a mutual friend who said, ‘She makes everything better’. Hayman and Smith shared a coffee and agreed on the correct number of guitar pedals and decided to proceed without an audition. “There is a tendency for me to make my chords too pretty. Joely cuts against that and plays in the opposite direction.” Hayman is a fan of rules and constraints and employed a new, oblique strategy on this record. “Even though I wrote all the songs, I wanted the songs to belong to everyone during arrangement. I decided that I would say ‘yes’ to every suggestion from the band, regardless of my instinct.” This made the songs warp and bend into new shapes and ensured that the record was the product of four individuals. Bassist Giles Barrett and drummer Will Connor come from funky afro beat influenced band Tigercats. “Pretty much the only rhythm I use, left to my own devices, is the ‘road runner’ rhythm. Will takes to care to find where the drum beat can be and we always end up somewhere I didn’t expect.” More Break Up Songs is a collection of 12 Break Up songs because Darren broke up with someone. Again. “I suck’, he says, “But it’s never anyone’s fault. It makes me very sad but I do have to work through these things in song and there’s always something to learn. I try to make songs about breakups that could be understood by both parties. I’m not interested in nasty songs.” Opening song ‘Little Stone in my Heart’ blisters along with Joely’s wildest guitars. The protagonist will do anything to make things right, but nothing ever is. ‘Under the Striplights’ has driving, choppy, incessant riffs, and is about the need to be anywhere but somewhere other than here. We could be under the moon or under the strip lights as long as we have each other. Another barely kept rule that Darren instigated on this album was that each song would be a tonal equivalent to one from The Velvet Underground’s third album. To that end ‘Don’t Need Persuading’ is this record’s ‘Pale Blue Eyes’ with the narrator being unable to break free of a vortex, knowing they will stay the night against all better judgment. ‘I’ve had a long standing distrust of the guitar,’ says Darren, ‘despite it being my primary instrument for twenty years. I thought it was time I made a record with two guitars and drums and bass. I wanted it to be bright, immediate and young sounding, despite the fact I’m old. We recorded it in four days and I think this might be the record a lot of my audience has wanted me to make for a long time.’ “bold and unique" The Sunday Times. // “Hayman has hit a creative purple patch… a treat” Mojo // “uniquely intimate and very satisfying”

Vinyl Packaging: Full color jacket featuring original artwork by Callum Rooney. Can I Communicate With the Unknown? is the new album from Go By Ocean, moniker of Northern California based singer / songwriter / producer Ryan McCaffrey. Co-produced alongside Tim Bluhm (The Mother Hips) and David Glasebrook, the album features contributions from a wide cast of characters, ranging from the tight knit community of Phil Lesh’s much loved Terrapin Crossroads to the wider West Coast indie-rock scene, including members of The Mother Hips, Sugar Candy Mountain, ALO, Tea Leaf Green, and more. Building upon McCaffrey’s catalog of songs, the new album finds inspiration in the down-to-earth music of 1970’s Marin County, when songwriters like Michael Hurley and Jesse Colin Young lived out in Olema and Point Reyes, the kind of places where songs blow in on the breeze from the Pacific Ocean. Lyrically, the album traces a hero’s journey as the narrator struggles with addiction, eventually finding peace and freedom in a tumultuous world, wrestling with metaphysical and spiritual ideas along the way. Highly anticipated new album from Go By Ocean, co-produced by Tim Bluhm of The Mother Hips. Press coverage includes reviews and features in Austin Town Hall, Glide Magazine, Psychedelic Baby Magazine, and more. UK/EU Publicity handled by Chris Carr & Mal Smith. “...washed with breezy beachy vibes…” - Glide Magazine // “...marries the bright guitar arrangement of The Byrds with an updated indie appeal.” - The Wild Is Calling // “...you can almost feel the hope over the hills waiting for you with open arms.” - Austin Town Hall // “‘...satisfyingly artful and I would venture to guess you’ve never heard anything quite like it.” - Ear To the Ground Music // “We will be spinning the hell out of this record for the rest of the summer.” - Up To Hear Music // “...it’s not hard to imagine some of these songs floating in on the coastal fog, ascending ghosts indeed.” - Psychedelic Baby Magazine

In the early 1990s gangsta rap was becoming more popular. KRS-One took to the mic and continued to write socially conscious raps resulting in the hard-hitting 1992 album Sex And Violence which would be the fifth and final studio album under the Boogie Down Productions name. Produced by KRS-One, Pal Joey, Kenny Parker, D-Square, and Prince Paul, the album explores the darkest sides of the American urban landscape and psyche, with KRS as narrator, detailing all sides of the matrix. While singles like the alarming drum-driven "Duck Down" and the funky-as-hell "We In There" got most of the attention in ‘92, the deeper sequence reveals plenty of additional gems: the history lesson of the dark and dusty "Drug Dealer"; "Ruff Ruff", with scowling MC favorite Freddie Foxxx (aka Bumpy Knuckles); the grooving "Questions and Answers," and the frantic record industry track "How Not To Get Jerked." The album kicks off with an intro skit featuring KRS-One as a DJ in panic needing vinyl which at the time was a dying format while cassettes and CDs became the dominant format. Thirty-two years later vinyl DJs and Hip-Hop vinyl collectors no longer need to panic. Get On Down in partnership with Sony Music's CERTIFIED is proud to bring back to vinyl this underrated gem in the BDP catalog. Featuring one of the dopest album covers by American artist Robert Williams, Sex and Violence is pressed on colored vinyl and packaged in a gatefold jacket with full lyrics.

Two track EP from the Italian early 90's cult label, Interactive Test, helmed by legendary Falsini brothers. Both sides going generously past the 8 minute marker and well into the upper 120 BPM class of affairs, "Farf-Ability" is another show case of the experimentally excursive approach to the early Italian progressive sound, this time on behalf of Francesco Farfa. Two flavours served confidently: uplifting daytime ravey on the A side, and darker trancier night time on the B side, heavy on the percussive samples. Remastered and re-issued with new full cover artwork, featuring photographic evidence of a special moment in time for Italian rave culture.