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‘Happiness, Guaranteed’ is about the cyclical nature of our modern dissatisfaction. It’s a brief dive into the frustrations our desires bring in our attempts to reach a level of contentment. Each song explores the pursuit of happiness within our relationships, our work, and our wealth all whilst finding ways to be content with what you have whilst balancing a desire to grow. Having come off the back of touring our first record Shadowboxer we were keen to get back in the room together and start writing new material. Traditionally we had taken the approach of writing sketches alone and sharing them with each other in the studio. We wanted to shake this process up and decided to rent a house, set up our instruments, and play freely together with no expectations, we did this over a couple of months. A lot of the music we made during those sessions felt like new territory for us and a move in the right direction. One of the first songs we landed on was MORE, which is based around a character disillusioned by their desire for consuming possessions. It’s a tongue-in-cheek exploration into how we’re sold happiness with what we can buy, something which we all really resonated with at the time -filling our apartments with furniture, buying gear, and settling back down into a post-tour life. Don’t Wait was another important piece of the puzzle. It’s a song that reckons with a break up and greeting the great unknown. It was a more joyous moment in the record, touching on the freedoms of growing up and having a better understanding of who you are and what you want in a relationship. The Trouble with Us was a similar exploration but focused more on the pain and frustration of a relationship ending. Throughout the record there’s this desire to arrive, to reach what we’ve been promised in life, a sense of completion and happiness.

Finding beauty, where one wouldn’t suspect it in the first place. Discovering music, where there used to be only sound a moment before. Forming an orchestra out of everyday surrondings, the main thing out of the incidental, the fulfilling momentary situation out of the profane togetherness. All of this is part of the goal, meaning and sense of Oh No Noh, the project of Leipzig based guitarist, robot programmer, magnetic tape crumpler and composer Markus Rom.
All of this floats and shines through "Kanzi".

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Finding beauty, where one wouldn’t suspect it in the first place. Discovering music, where there used to be only sound a moment before. Forming an orchestra out of everyday surrondings, the main thing out of the incidental, the fulfilling momentary situation out of the profane togetherness. All of this is part of the goal, meaning and sense of Oh No Noh, the project of Leipzig based guitarist, robot programmer, magnetic tape crumpler and composer Markus Rom.
All of this floats and shines through "Kanzi".

Twisted and irreverent, The Rabbits combined ear-splitting guitar shrapnel with one of punk’s greatest-ever snot-nosed vocalists. With hints of PIL or Chrome, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through the warped lens of visionary loner Syoichi Miyazawa. First-ever vinyl release, fully remastered from the band’s original early ’80s cassette releases, and housed in a sturdy tip-on sleeve. Includes a double-sided, printed insert. Edition of 500

Singer-songwriter Syoichi Miyazawa’s tale is a confounding one.

He grew up in a small town in Yamagata Prefecture (in northern Japan), loved Dylan and The Beatles, and had very little exposure to, or interest in, underground music. And yet, shortly after 24-year-old Miyazawa arrived in Tokyo in 1978, he began performing solo shows at tiny clubs in the city, singing and playing guitar. His performances quicky devolved from brisk acoustic jaunts to lengthy, heavy dirges sung in a snot-nosed wail over a blown-out electric guitar detuned to produce a kind of sonic sludge.

At one of his earliest gigs, a mutual friend introduced him to Endo Michiro, who would soon become the legendary front man of Japanese punk icons The Stalin. It turned out Miyazawa and Endo had attended Yamagata University at the same time just a few years earlier, but hadn’t known each other at school. In Tokyo, they became fast friends, moved into the same apartment building, and for years were inseparable. Endo played guitar and drums on Miyazawa’s debut release, the “Christ Was Born in a Stable” flexi disc. But while Endo was social and outgoing, Miyazawa preferred to be alone, avoiding concerts unless he was performing.

Despite these antisocial tendencies, Miyazawa came to despise playing solo. In 1982, an eccentric high school student named Chika introduced herself at one of Miyazawa’s gigs, and Miyazawa asked if she’d play bass. She agreed and drafted two of her friends to play second guitar and drums. The Rabbits were born.

Miyazawa wrote the tunes, and had a clear vision for the group, but struggled to get the sound he wanted from the other members. His second guitarist was more of a fusion player, and Miyazawa took great pains to get him to tone down the shredding. The group quickly went through multiple line-up changes. Frustrated with the sound of their first proper recording (self-released as the “X1(x)” cassette), Miyazawa spent a full year mixing their second cassette, “Winter Songs,” on his own.

The hard work paid off — the sound of “Winter Songs” is striking, and unlike anything the band’s peers produced. There’s liberal use of delay on the vocals, giving the music a psychedelic feel, but the guitars are caustic, cutting through the mix like metal shrapnel. The rhythm section seems on the verge of teetering out of control throughout, an overdriven and pummeling current below abrasive slabs of guitar and vocals. Even at their most aggressive, though, The Rabbits had strong pop sensibilities, complete with cooing backing vocals and the occasional harmonica solo. Miyazawa delivers his borderline nonsensical lyrics with equal amounts of menace and gaiety, consistently riding that fine line as only a natural oddball can. At times, the band sounds like a distant cousin of PiL, Chrome or The Homosexuals, but beamed in from a parallel dimension and filtered through Miyazawa’s warped lens.

Although The Rabbits briskly sold all 500 copies of the "Winter Songs" tape, live audiences at the time seemed dumbfounded by the group, and would stare at them in silence. After two years together, The Rabbits called it quits in 1984.

When asked if any of the many legendary groups (Les Rallizes Desnudes, G.I.S.M., etc.) he shared stages with left an impression, Miyazawa recently revealed that he always left the venue as soon as he finished performing, so he never caught any of the other bands…

All of which is to say —

The Rabbits are one of the great punk bands of the early ’80s, but their leader had no interest in the punk scene and always thought he was making “normal” music. They rubbed shoulders with a slew of notable groups of the era, and their singer was best friends with arguably the most famous Japanese punk of all time, but Miyazawa shunned fraternization and purposefully distanced himself from his peers.

Could this be why so few underground music fans are familiar with the group, even in Japan? Why they seem to have been written out of the official history of Japanese punk? One can never know for sure, but Mesh-Key hopes to remedy this travesty by offering this compilation, the first-ever official LP by The Rabbits, to a new generation of punk and psychedelic music connoisseurs.
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Rare & unreleased 80's bangers from Sao Tome e Principe's most iconic singer !

Bongo Joe pursues their work with friend DJ Tom B and are sharing the fourth effort in their São Tomé & Principe series : “Recordar é viver”, the first volume of an anthology dedicated to the one and only Pedro Lima, , "A voz do povo de São Tomé" (the people's voice of Sao Tomé).

“Recordar é viver: Antologia Vol. 1” features some previously unreleased tracks and gives a comprehensive look into the discography of one of the islands’ biggest stars, known for his political outspokenness as much as for his soft voice, delicate rumbas, and high-energy puxas.

With his band Os Leonenses he built a brand new genre around the strong rhythms and infectious energy of Sao-Toméan Samba Socopé ("only with the feet” in Portuguese), but with the influence of Congolese soukous, Cape Verdean Coladeira, elements from French West-Indies Cadence/Compas, and Brazilian Afoxé, it soon developed into the infectiously danceable style known as “puxa”. The band kept playing together up until Pedro’s death in 2019, performing at large events around the islands and on the continent.

But Pedro shined also on his own. Alone, he demonstrated his compositional skills and ability to balance the band’s powerful rhythm section with São Tomé & Principe’s harmonic backing vocal traditions, creating strong, dance floor ready puxas or melodic, delicate rumbas.

Pedro Lima died in 2019, leaving behind the 23 children he fathered, with thousands of mourners accompanying him to his final resting place. The public funeral, paid for by ex-president Pinto da Costa, was one of the biggest the islands have ever seen. Lima, "O cantor do povo” (“The people’s singer”), was buried with his wireless microphone, so his powerful voice would always be heard.

In 2021, in the midst of COVID, in a desire to continue to share music and stay connected, Gauthier worked to produce collaborations with artists from all over the world, Ottoman Grüw (Canada), Nekro TFFV (Turkey), Lucas Martins (Brazil), Lethal M (Macedonia). The result is four techno tracks both melodic and powerful inhabited by voices that resonate like the whisper of a music that, whatever happens, will never stop to exist.

Never Alone is the testimony that even isolate we continue through the music to be together.

After the legendary French Ethno-industrial band Vox Populi! vanished into obscurity in the early 1990ees, some, like bass player, Francis Manne aka Francis Laffont aka Kosa Nostra aka Kosa aka Fr6, expanded in their their new artistic adventures. Alone or with others, he followed his multi-disciplinary sonic visions that he already displayed on the label Vox Man records, that he founded with Vox Populi! member Axel Kyrou in 1982. Together they released the famed "Audiologie" compilations, an audio fanzine featuring a contemporary outlook on the experimental electronic, and improvisational avant-garde music scene of the time. Particularly the two "Alterntative Funk: la Folie Distinguée" compilations turned into today’s collectors’ items for fans of bizarre electronic music.

Now Notte Brigante brings “Kosa and Friends 1987/97“, twelve unreleased recordings that display Francis Manne’s ongoing musical creation after the break-up of Vox Populi!. Minimal Synth, post punk, field recordings, psychedelic, cold wave, and weird proto funk are welcome thoughtful listeners into an eccentric world of pop and poetry, of experiment and groove. As the visual part was always equally important as the music for him, the cover links to Manne’s graphic work, which has also often been featured on many Vox Populi!, Bain Total, or Vox Man Records. A venturesome collection that documents an unexplored universe of a visionary French avant-garde musician and his vivid peer group.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They push everything right to the brink and then pull back at precisely the right moment" - Pitchfork

"'Growing Up Pains (Unni's Song) gives a tantalising glimpse of where their future could lie. Matching lucid pop elements to daring innovation, ALASKALASKA allow the song to become a portal to their own potential." - Clash

"It’s impossible to walk away without the repeated promise 'I won’t let you down' in 'Growing Up Pains' stuck in your head – and it’s a mantra we should all be following as we as a species continue to fight for our future." - Beats Per Minute

ALASKALASKA announce their superb new album, Still Life, arriving October 14th on Marathon Artists (Lava La Rue, Courtney Barnett, Pond).

'Still Life' finds writers and producers Lucinda Duarte-Holman and Fraser Rieley embrace a more free-form electronica, giving a taste of what's to come with this fantastic new record produced by Jas Shaw (of Simian Mobile Disco)–full of digital sounds, drum machine and synth melodies cunningly sat beside rich, organic, acoustic instrumentation, it's a looping tug of war between existential dread and everyday simple pleasures.

Listen to / watch the video for 'Still Life' (shot by Jacek Zmarz) here: https://youtu.be/TL7s6QJ3ANc

Four seasons of dawn chorus, panoramically framed by fruit trees and more analog synths than can comfortably fit in a cow shed-come-recording studio...the scene is set for the recording of ALASKALASKA’s second album Still Life. Ordinarily located in South East London, writers and producers Fraser Rieley and Lucinda Duarte-Holman were eager to get out of the city. Taking advantage of this rustic countryside scene, they were able to capture something uniquely their own.

Following their debut album in 2019, they resurface into a new era embracing all the things that first put the band on the map, attracting the likes of Tame Impala, Hot Chip, Porches and Nilüfer Yanya for tour support slots. For Rieley and Duarte-Holman, writing began in 2019, pre-lockdown-era, although the subsequent alone together/together alone time added a new spin on ALASKALASKA's process of experimentation and fine-tuning. The band now push their foundational ideas further and explore the freedom of playing with new sounds. Duarte-Holman explains, “...with everything going on at the time, the restrictions led us to try working in a new way. The limitations were different, but meant we were able to adventure into a more electronic soundscape that we're really looking forward to expressing live."

The ‘Still Life’ LP has been pressed on recycled black vinyl to reduce the carbon intensity of the finished product.

Surprise Chef’s music is based on evoking mood; their vivid arrangements utilize time and space to build soundscapes that invite the listener into their world. The quintet’s distinct sound pulls from 70s film scores, the funkier side of jazz, and the samples that form the foundation of hip hop. They push the boundaries of instrumental soul and funk with their own approach honed by countless hours in the studio, studying the masters, and perhaps most importantly, the “tyranny of distance” that dictates a unique perspective to their music. Hailing from just outside of Melbourne, Australia their first two albums, All News Is Good News and Daylight Savings amassed a die-hard fanbase and brought their sound from their home studio to every corner of the globe. The band is now signed to Big Crown Records, joining a lineage of contemporary and classic sounds that have influenced Surprise Chef’s music since their formation in 2017. Surprise Chef is Lachlan Stuckey on guitar, Jethro Curtin on keys, Carl Lindeberg on bass, Andrew Congues on drums, and Hudson Whitlock—the latest member who does it all from percussion to composing to producing. Their self proclaimed "moody shades of instrumental jazz-funk" have a bit of everything: punchy drums, infectious keys, rhythm guitar you might hear on a Studio One record, and flute lines that could be from a Blue Note session. But when you step back and take in the entirety of their sound and approach, you'll hear and see a group greater than the sum of its parts. In many ways Surprise Chef embodies the idiom "the benefits of limits." They were limited in that there weren't many people making or talking about instrumental jazz/soul/funk in Southeast Australia, let alone putting out records. This left them to develop their sound and approach in a kind of creative isolation where a small circle of friends and like-minded musicians fed off each other. "Being in Australia, being so far away, we only get glimpses and glances of this music’s origins," Stuckey says. "But hearing a label like Big Crown was one of the first times we realized you could make fresh, new soul music that wasn't super retro or just nostalgic." This approach is on full display throughout their new album Education & Recreation. Tracks like “Velodrome” pair chunky drums with an earworm synth line that has all the making of something you would find on an Ultimate Breaks & Beats compilation while numbers like “Iconoclasts” show their knack for tasteful use of space. From the crushing intro of “Suburban Breeze” to the floaty mellow bop of “Spring’s Theme” Surprise Chef has weaved together an album that takes you through peaks and valleys of emotion and provides a vivid soundtrack that will pull you deeper into your imagination. There is a beauty in the vast space for interpretation of instrumental music and they are adding a modern classic to the canon with this new album. Turn on the record and enjoy the ride, wherever it may take you.

OVERVIEW: The horror master John Carpenter is back with his Halloween franchise collaborators Daniel Davies and Cody Carpenter for their infectious new soundtrack to the 2022 adaptation of Stephen King’s Firestarter. This marks the first official soundtrack that the team has composed together outside of the Halloween franchise and their inspiration and evolution as a creative team is on full display.

OVERVIEW: The horror master John Carpenter is back with his Halloween franchise collaborators Daniel Davies and Cody Carpenter for their infectious new soundtrack to the 2022 adaptation of Stephen King’s Firestarter. This marks the first official soundtrack that the team has composed together outside of the Halloween franchise and their inspiration and evolution as a creative team is on full display.

The latest album from Randy Randall, guitarist and multi-instrumentalist
of tireless Los Angeles experimental punk duo No Age, Sound Field Vol
2020, continues the iconoclastic weirdo ripper's series of audiovisual
urban excursions in a contemplative set of ambient compositions
exploring the abandoned expanse of pandemic-era Los Angeles
"Vol. 2020 is named as such (and not 'Vol. 2') because of the massive psychic
shift that occurred at the beginning of the global pandemic and subsequent
lockdown," says Randall. The project took root in the earliest days of lockdown, as
the absence of perennial, man- made din revealed the secret lives and hidden
contours of the world without us: The cacophony of birds on empty boulevards;
the rhythmic click cycles of unmanned escalators; PA announcements
reverberating back into themselves across abandoned transportation terminals;
nocturnal choruses of wildlife reverberating across hillsides under a planeless
sky.We listened inwards, too, recontextualizing ourselves as we reckoned with an
abrupt and collective halt never thought possible in our lifetime, as if someone
had pressed mute on the world. Little did we know what would come. With no
choice but to confront the present, we gave ourselves over to a brief moment of
fear mixed with wonderment, alone, together.

Brawni’s debut EP ‘Golden Dawn’ features 4 keenly focused club ready tracks that weave between electro, techno, and melodic 4x4 journeys.Stemming from a year of pandemic induced studio time,Dillon wasted no time and got to work producing over 10 tracks which have been featured in his live video series and live sets. ‘Amber’ the lead track on the record features a bouncy bassline and catchy melody with spaced out vocals that together create a melancholic dancefloor hitter. ‘Dumbledore’ based on the name alone lets you know you’re in for a warpy one, featuring a spooky melody, relentless drum programming and a breakdown to end all breakdowns. ‘I Do My Own Stunts’ a short, to the point track with heavy distortion and twisting drum patterns is a perfect fit for any hard hitting DJ Set. The final track ‘Tubular Bells’ is a classic electro banger with rolling basslines, arpeggiated synths and nostalgic melodies. All together they for ‘Golden Dawn’ aptly named as Cabal’s and Brawni’s debut vinyl release.

AOTN proudly present a new solo outing from long time friend & contributor to Athens of the North, Other Lands aka Gavin L.Sutherland.

Channelling his considerable improvisational skills to evoke notions of island life, his concept was to create something that could work equally well in the wilds of the Western Isles as in the sunnier spots of the world that we all yearned to escape to at that time. The more he played with this idea of groups of islands, of archipelagos the world over, the more it also became about people themselves experiencing isolation as individuals, while still feeling a sense of togetherness with others in the same boat.

Working a little at home but mainly here at Athens of the North studios, he would come in each day over the course of a few weeks and just hit record, playing at times almost without mind. Sometimes the mood would call for keys, strings, or drums through delays for days and days. Often, the music would happen by chance as much as by design. One rule he tried to adhere to was to not overthink things, capturing moments honestly with minimal editing or digital processing.

What we've ended up with is a beautiful, spontaneous, timeless and honest meditation on what it is to be at once both alone and part of a larger whole.

Been Stellar is what you get when you leave the youth alone in a
metropolis; they grow up, they make noise
Crackly, bright and distorted - stories of violence, love, and a new, un-glamorous,
New York City. 12" EP pressed on red transparent vinyl. Hailing from the suburbs
of Detroit, the beaches of Los Angeles, and Brazil by way of Sydney, Nando Dale
(guitar), Laila Wayans (drums), Sam Slocum (vocals), Nico Brunstein (bass) and
Skyler St. Marks (guitar) have positioned themselves at the glimmering rotten
center of tonight's rock and roll. Each member so distinctly themselves, it must
be assumed that such a diverse and unlikely gang were drawn tight together in
their first year of university by nothing short of serendipitous fortune and a
shared, waggish sense of humor.
They are a band of friends - sharing, crying, fighting, and kissing - wreaking havoc
together and laughing like how only the jaunty youth can afford to. Been Stellar's
arrangements come textured, swooping - pushing past you at a downtown pace
and off to find a better night. The songs are of their own time and space, offering
a New York City - Been Stellar's New York City - the sounds of growing up young.

Originally released on tape in 2021 and mastered for vinyl by North London Bomb Factory Mastering. Second LP from the project led by Albert Limones (Nosferatu/ Creamers) following on from The Grotto Screams in 2021. Skeletal, brittle and skittish punk. Complex, layered tones with wobbly chorused bass, jagged drum patterns and bristling guitar. Amongst the rubble, 'Limones vocals are everything that hold this together, piercing and primal. Recalling Christian Death, Bauhaus, but Altar of Eden really stand alone The LP sounds like it’s been pulled from some tape archive from 1985. Not that it’s dated in any way. It’s just along the same strand of DNA.. Essential. TRACKLIST: 1.Sacrilege 2.Genesis 3.Three Fires 4.Existence 5.Matrix of Chaos 6.Legion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

=

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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."

Tape

The third LP from the New Zealand quartet houses 12 jewels of tight, guitar-heavy songs that worm their way into your head, an incandescent collision of power-pop and skuzz. With Expert, The Beths wanted to make an album meant to be experienced live, for both the listeners and themselves. They wanted it to be fun -- to hear, to play -- in spite of the prickling anxiety throughout the lyrics, the fear of change and struggle to cope.

Most of Expert was recorded at guitarist Jonathan Pearce’s studio on Karangahape Road in Tāmaki Makaurau, Aotearoa (Auckland, New Zealand) -- and sometimes in the building's cavernous stairwell at 1am -- toward the end of 2021, until they were interrupted by a four-month national lockdown. They traded notes remotely for months, songwriting from afar and fleshing out the arrangements alone, the first time they’d written together in such a way. The following February, The Beths left the country for the first time in more than two years to tour across the US, and simultaneously finish mixing the album on the road. That latter half felt more collaborative, with everyone on-hand to trade notes in real time, until it all culminated in a chaotic three-day studio mad-dash in Los Angeles. There, Expert finally became the record they were hearing in their heads.

Expert is an extension of the same skuzzy palette the band has built across their catalog, pop hooks embedded in incisive indie rock. The album’s title track “Expert In A Dying Field” introduces the thesis for the record: “How does it feel to be an expert in a dying field? How do you know it’s over when you can’t let go?” Stokes asks. “Love is learned over time ‘til you’re an expert in a dying field.”

The rest is a capsule of The Beths’ most electrifying and exciting output, a sonic spectrum: “Your Side” is a forlorn and sincere love song, emotive; while “Silence is Golden,” with its propulsive drum line and stop-start staccato of a guitar line winding up and down, is one of the band’s sharpest and most driving. “When You Know You Know” skews a bit groovier, pure pop and a natural addition to the band’s live set. “Knees Deep” was written last minute, but yields one of the best guitar lines on Expert. There’s a certain chaos across the 12 tracks, the palpable joy of playing music with long-time friends colliding with the raw nerves of pain.

Stokes strings it all together through her singular songwriting lens, earnest and self-effacing, zeroing in on the granules of doubt and how they snowball. Did I do the wrong thing? Or did you? And are we still good people at the end of it? She isn’t interested in villains, but instead interested in just telling the story. That insecurity and thoughtfulness, translated into universality and understanding, has been the guiding light of The Beths’ output since 2016. In the face of pain, there’s no dwelling on internal anguish - instead, through The Beths’ musi

Morgan Geist and Kelley Polar present their debut album as Au Suisse which features contributions from Dan Snaith (a.k.a. Caribou / Daphni). A streamlined mixture of funk, synthpop and disco for fans of Hot Chip.

Born from the collective mind of producer Morgan Geist (Storm Queen, Metro Area) and songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Kelley Polar, AU SUISSE is a new project that promises to stake a milestone in both its members' already storied careers. Crafting immersive soundscapes using a patchwork of electro, synthpop, funk and disco, AU SUISSE's self-titled debut album evokes both a post-rave comedown on a tropical beach and a weekend alone icy chalet, ruminating on life and love. Guest players include friends and labelmates Dan Snaith (Caribou) and Jeremy Greenspan (Junior Boys).

Having met in college in the early '90s and continued to forge a close friendship throughout the years, AU SUISSE is the first time Geist and Polar have set out to gel their creative relationship into its own musical project. But this is no bashed-together collection of random tunes — this is a band, through and through, and Geist and Polar's shared expertise give the album its own indelible identity.

Ltd weiße 140G Vinyl mit bedruckter Innenhülle und Artwork/Design von Trevor JacksonMorgan Geist and Kelley Polar present their debut album as Au Suisse which features contributions from Dan Snaith (a.k.a. Caribou / Daphni). A streamlined mixture of funk, synthpop and disco for fans of Hot Chip.



Born from the collective mind of producer Morgan Geist (Storm Queen, Metro Area) and songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Kelley Polar, AU SUISSE is a new project that promises to stake a milestone in both its members' already storied careers. Crafting immersive soundscapes using a patchwork of electro, synthpop, funk and disco, AU SUISSE's self-titled debut album evokes both a post-rave comedown on a tropical beach and a weekend alone icy chalet, ruminating on life and love. Guest players include friends and labelmates Dan Snaith (Caribou) and Jeremy Greenspan (Junior Boys).



Having met in college in the early '90s and continued to forge a close friendship throughout the years, AU SUISSE is the first time Geist and Polar have set out to gel their creative relationship into its own musical project. But this is no bashed-together collection of random tunes — this is a band, through and through, and Geist and Polar's shared expertise give the album its own indelible identity.

The members of Szun Waves may not have been collectively in the same country, let alone room, for over two years, but that hasn't prevented them from realising their third album, Earth Patterns. The trio - comprised of producer Luke Abbott, saxophonist Jack Wyllie (Portico Quartet) and drummer Laurence Pike (Triosk/PVT/Liars) - recorded the album sessions together at the tail end of their 2019 European tour, locking themselves away in the studio for three days of improvisation. They emerged with hours of music, some inspired by their live shows, most born fresh in the studio itself, ready to be moulded into the group's third album in five years.

After the 2021 Re-Release of “Schwingungen” (MG.ART612) and together with “Seven Up” (MG.ART613) we proudly announce “JOIN INN” as Part3 of the authorised 50th Anniversary “A.R.T.” Re-Edition Series.
“JOIN INN” is the fourth album by Ash Ra Tempel. It was recorded at Studio Dierks and originally released on LP by Ohr Musik-Produktion, catalogue number OMM 556032. Each side of the LP comprises one long track.
In 1972 ASH RA TEMPEL teamed up again with Klaus Schulze during the recording of Walter Wegmüller's Tarot album, and after one of the recording sessions, ASH RA TEMPEL members: Enke, Göttsching and Rosi, together with Klaus decided to "play it again" in a late night session. This recording led to the birth of the “JOIN INN” album, as well as two legendary last concerts in February 1973 in Paris and Cologne.
Manuel Göttsching recalls Hartmut Enke on bass and Klaus Schulze on drums being a dream-team rhythm section for him to play his guitar, especially here to hear on “Freak'n' Roll”, that was ingenious and not to replace ever since.
It was the last recording ever where Klaus Schulze (who sadly passed away this Year) played the Drums and also Hartmut (the Hawk) Enke soon after quit the Bass and music forever.
Join Inn marks the end of the collaboration with Klaus Schulze.
However, together with Ash Ra Tempel, their eponymous first album, which will be released in 2023 as the final edition of our Series, it is considered a highlight of the Krautrock movement.
As for the music itself we again refer to Julian Cope´s review from his book “Krautrocksampler” (published by Head Heritage, 1st ed. 1995):
""Freak’n’roll” fades in like it never started - just was always there from the beginning of time, a dry wah-guitar freerock riff-out unlike any of the other Ash Ra Tempel LPs, and not much like any other music. Yes, there are bluesy riff but none of them have a blues context. Manuel Gottsching’s guitar is so confident that he sometimes drops down to a simple major chord groove, whilst the Hawk pushes that round woody bass into strange overlapping rumbling melody. And ... it’s the return of Klaus Schulze on drums which propels “Freak’n’roll” to its height. No-one but Klaus has the ability to
transcend rock’n’roll in such an on-the-beat non-groove-y way and still send sparks of light into the cosmos as he does it.
-> continued on page 2“Freak’n’roll” is so egoless that it even works at a quiet volume as meditational music. Themes rise from the high tempo pulse beat, then are carried along the muscles of the song into the main area where the riff actually becomes real and expressionist for just long enough before slipping back into the musical fabric of the song.
As usual with Ash Ra Tempel, the other side is an enormous drift piece called “Jenseits (The Next World)”, a beautiful Klaus Schultze meditation of haunting synthesizer chords over which Rosi Muller tells the story of the Cosmic Couriers’ meeting with Timothy Leary. Gradually, the pulsing guitar becomes increasingly intense and turbulent, but Rosi never sounds less than freaked out. Essentially, “Jenseits” is a precursor to Klaus Schulze’s later spacey minor-key grooves.
Unfortunately, this was the last Ash Ra Tempel album in its particular ‘series.
(…) After “JOIN INN”, Manuel Gottsching took over the Ash Ra Tempel mantle alone.”

Sympathetic Magic is an ecstatic, delirious, and deeply touching piece of music; a towering new work in Kim Myhr’s increasingly substantial output as an artist and composer. Sympathetic Magic is the follow-up to Kim Myhr’s 2017 album You | me, which was widely praised and received an honorary mention at the 2018 Nordic Music Prize. While the immersive warmth of You | me is still present, Sympathetic Magic is more expansive than its predecessor. A band of eight musicians playing a wide variety of instruments including electric 12-string guitars, drum machines, vocals, synthesizers, organs and lots of drums and percussion, has created a work of a grander scale. The shimmering, oceanic waves of You | me has been traded for cosmic currents in Sympathetic Magic. Put simply, Sympathetic Magic is a collection of song-like structures that has expanded into symphonic proportions. “With You | me, I wanted to create an ocean of sound, where the listener is surrounded by a myriad of elements that has equal importance in the music. I wanted to challenge this a bit, to push certain elements forward. The result is a more song-like kind of music than what I’ve done before.” – Kim Myhr Just before starting working on Sympathetic Magic, Kim bought an old 70s Yamaha organ (the YC45d), after falling in love with the sound of it on different recordings. At first, he thought the organ would be a subtle element on the new record, but it ended up becoming a focal point: “It’s a brilliant in-your-face sound that brought an ecstatic quality to the music. Playing around with this instrument, along with an 80s Roland Juno synth and a new drum machine took the music in new directions.” – Kim Myhr. Thematically, Sympathetic Magic circles around a longing for collectivity and togetherness. While the world was locked down in 2021, thanks to a commission from Oslo Jazz Festival, Kim had the opportunity to delve deeply into this project, working with the members of the band, one at a time: “The music created a situation of unexpected positivity. It felt like a social project even if I spent most of the time on it alone. And all this positive, joyful energy felt quite magical, arriving like out of thin air in this otherwise grim situation. It all felt like a hallucination, which fed back into the music. Sympathetic Magic is like a dream within a dream.” – Kim Myhr The title of the record is a term coined by James Frazer in The Golden Bough. He writes: “things which have once been in contact with each other continue to act on each other at a distance after the physical contact has been severed”. “In a closed down world where all our connections with the outside suddenly are remote or absent, the line between the real and imaginary is blurred. I felt that the term perfectly summed up the thoughts, processes and sentiments that went into the making of this record”, says Myhr. “Kim Myhr is a master of slow-morphing rhythms and sun-dappled textures that seem to glow from the inside”. The Guardian 1/And I Thought These Are My People 2/Gifting Senselessly In Endless Lavishness 3/Move The Rolling Sky 4/Iridescent 5/Up To The Sun Shall Go Your Heartache 6/I Wonder If I Shall Fall Right Through The Earth 7/Heart Streams

King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard are repressing their sixteenth album, K.G. n 2010. In the wake of a global pandemic, it’s a collection of songs that saw the six members of the band retreating to their own homes scattered around Melbourne, Australia to compose and record remotely. But have no fear! Not a drop of that unnamed alchemical something that makes this band so special is missing. This is the Gizz firing on all sonic cylinders, for if ever a band were built to swiftly adapt to adverse circumstance then it is them. Hell, on paper Covid-19, with its monstrous yet unseen face, ecological implications and new language, even sounds like an abandoned concept for a King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard album.

Truth be told, the practicalities of the creation of K.G. is a side-issue. It is the contents and the sheer visceral power of music that matters. Music that will live on long after a virus has passed. Back in 2017 the band released Flying Microtonal Banana, now one of their most highly regarded albums. That it was the first of five released by the band that year and was only part the story – a story made all the remarkable by the fact it was recorded using a microtonal musical scale that requires quarter tone tunings, on instruments custom-made for the occasion. It spawned a plethora of live favourites such as ‘Rattlesnake’, ‘Sleep Drifter’, ‘Nuclear Fusion’ and ‘Billabong Valley’ and showed the wider world that the Gizz paint from a palette that extends far beyond the musical colours of western rock. Here were songs in tunings more common in traditional Turkish or Arabic music.

“FMB was one of the purest and most enjoyable recording experiences we’ve had, and the ideas just kept coming” explains de facto band leader and multi-instrumentalist Stu Mackenzie. “But we didn’t think we would play it live as the music dictated a new medium that requires different instruments, new flight cases and so. It was a liberating studio-based experiment which surprisingly translated seamlessly and spawned some of favourite songs to play live.”

So now they return to the microtonal tunings on K.G., an album best described as a pure distillation of the King Gizzard sound, one that cherry picks the best aspects of previous albums and contorts them into new shapes and via defiantly non-Western rock scales. There’s walk-on theme song ‘K.G.L.W’, the celestial disco-funk of ‘Intrasport’, the righteous life-giving staccato rock of ‘Ontology’, epic stoner-sludge closer ‘The Hungry Wolf Of Fate’, which ends the album in abrupt burst of white noise. All come together to represent the next-level of the expanding Gizz sound.

K.G. is both a stand-alone work and also part of a bigger musical picture. More news on that shall be forthcoming – fans of the band know by now that King Gizzard don’t do things by halves. If music were organic matter, then their albums are ever-changing entities: initial highlights are often superseded on further exploration, favourite tracks replaced by less obvious moments, while riffs or bursts of noise from four or five albums back might suddenly rear their heads again.

The Gamelatron is many things; one could call it a sculpture, a multimodal installation, an instrument, a robot, a feat of engineering, a vision—and it is all of these things. More importantly, though, it is a concept sustained by Aaron Taylor Kuffner, aka Zemi17, whose Gamelatrons are “sound producing kinetic sculptures” designed to create an immersive, visceral experience for the listener. Not a small feat, and yet the ambitions of Zemi17 are absolutely realized in this long-standing project, culminating now in his third release for The Bunker NY: Gamelatron Bidadari.

The Gamelatron Bidadari is not just a name—it is one of seventy-plus musical sculptures that Zemi17 has conceptualized, designed, and fabricated. Therefore, it would be inaccurate to think of this release as simply a series of arrangements composed in a finite period of time. Rather, it’s a window into a project and a process that is much larger than any single album can encapsulate. Gamelatron Bidardi is the culmination of more than a decade of work, and is central to Zemi17’s evolution, not only as a musician but as an artist.

Having studied gamelan for many years in Indonesian villages and at the Institut Seni Indonesia in Yogyakarta, Kuffner is a musician, an artist, technologist, and craftsman. The gongs in his sculptures are co-created with master Indonesian artisans. Each Gamelatron composition is site-responsive, meaning its sounds are composed for the acoustics and intentions of the space it inhabits, whether it’s an art gallery, a wooded landscape, or the inner temple of Burning Man. The Gamelatron does not stand alone: it is in constant co-creation with its physical environment, and in dialogue with gamelan’s long-standing history.

Originally exhibited at the Smithsonian Renwick as part of a show entitled, No Spectators: The Art of Burning Man, the Gamelatron Bidadari produces sounds that are delicate yet strong, and deeply hypnotic. Textured chiming creates intricate polyrhythmic patterns that are both complex and simple, or in a word, elegant. On Gamelan Bidadari, Zemi17 refrains from adhering to the strict musical structures; his approach to composition is free flowing.

He says, “I want to evoke what the music tells me it has to offer. It is like following water to its conclusion (or non-conclusion).” The arrangements on this album, written by Zemi17 and performed by the robotic arms of the Gamelatron, leaves the listener feeling enchanted, nourished and enriched.

A sense of the mystical comes through in the tonal quality of the instrument, and is conceptually felt in the sculpture’s name: the Bidadari, which loosely translates to “forest nymph.” The music conjures up natural wonder, and the four sculptures that make up the Gamelatron Bidadari, in fact, resemble trees. They are four independent yet connected entities, each with a large gong situated at their structural base—the sonic “roots” of the sculpture—while smaller gongs branch off of a golden, trunk-like spine. The Gamelatron Bidadari is as physically stunning as it is mesmerizing to the ear. A kind of divinity is invoked through its sound, or a sacred cohesion between past and present, tradition and new form. Meant to be viscerally experienced, the sounds of the Gamelatron call for sublime togetherness. Gamelatron Bidadari is not just an album but the crystallization of Kuffner’s work; it is a condensed yet spacious glimpse into the sonic power of Zemi17’s Gamelatrons, which have already been heard and experienced live by over a million people.

Pulselovers is the recording moniker of Doncaster's electronic music polymath - Mat Handley. In recent times, Mat's restless enthusiasm and boundless talent has seen him excel in a variety of related fields: as a much-loved broadcaster (presenting 'You, the Night and the Music'); dispensing his electronic magic as a member of the bands Floodlights and Vert:x; and founding the essential Woodford Halse tape label. While recording as Pulselovers, he has produced a string of impressive releases, including titles on Castles in Space, Sensory Leakage, Polytechnic Youth, Misophonia, Russian Library, Do It Thissen, as well as regular contributions to the iconic A Year In The Country album series. Mat explains how reviewing these AYITC contributions gave rise to the possibility of compiling a retrospective collection as a stand alone album: "Circles Within Circles contains tracks that have previously appeared on albums released by A Year in the Country between 2017 and 2020. Each collection had a particular theme which gave me an opportunity to experiment and develop the way I work by incorporating field recordings, tape loops and enrichments from additional instrumentation played by friends and kindred souls (guitar, bass, saxophone, flute, violin, vocals etc). For example, the track “Brodsworth” is built around a four track tape loop of different synth tones to create a rudimentary (and very lo-fi) Mellotron, played using the sliders on the Tascam 414 in place of keys. For “Fuggles”, my partner and I broke into an abandoned brewery in Sheffield and made recordings of the empty space and crumbling concrete. For “Beat Her Down” I assembled a virtual choir lead by Katje Janisch to sing a simple but disturbing folk nursery rhyme. It was my friend (and Floodlights main man) John Alexander who suggested collecting the AYITC tracks into a single volume and after several different permutations (around 5 pieces were excluded from this compilation), I think we’ve managed to put together something that feels like a coherent stand alone album. I’ve enjoyed revisiting these works, some of which I’ve not listened to in 5 years. Thanks to Steve Prince of AYITC for his inspirational concepts and to Dan at Subexotic for giving these pieces a second home.” Circles Within Circles will be released on 12th August, via digital platforms and limited edition pressed vinyl.

For their Drag City debut, the enigmatic duo expand into eight-armed wonder; all the better to reach ever-deeper into their bag o' tricks. Slinky and sliding elegantly, the kids forge tunes with a harmony of ambiguity and nostalgia, effortless yet precise, and rounded with thick bottom - a dancing clash of cognition and dissonance! Since 2015, Kamikaze Palm Tree have been a relative mystery. Now, in times no less mysterious, Drag City welcomes them, celebrating the energy of their second LP, where KPT play their offbeat strain of 21st century rock. Making MINT CHIP, Dylan Hadley and Cole Berliner reach deeper into their bag of tricks than ever before, dialoguing with an absurd shared intent they haven't yet paused to question. The off-center pieces gathered together for Good Boy have given way to pulsing aquatic compositions on MINT CHIP. Cole's guitar tones, wire thin, bell-like, bluesily downtuned, slinky and sliding elegantly, arc purposeful around their peripherals. Dylan's kit work, effortless yet precise, grounded with heavy bottom, drives and interacts organically with all the emerging structure, nailing down finely detailed frames and canvases to backdrop her singing and the unremitting landing of melodies and songs. With the addition of Josh Puklavetz, things that didn't make sense before - like bass - are now on the beach, fully lotioned, essence to essence. Violin and clarinet (Laena Myers Ionita and Brad Caulkins, respectively) round out the tonal spectrum. All strung together in the foothills of Altadena's Wiggle World Studios with Hartling back in the engineer's seat and Tim Presley producing the proceedings!

For their Drag City debut, the enigmatic duo expand into eight-armed wonder; all the better to reach ever-deeper into their bag o' tricks. Slinky and sliding elegantly, the kids forge tunes with a harmony of ambiguity and nostalgia, effortless yet precise, and rounded with thick bottom - a dancing clash of cognition and dissonance! Since 2015, Kamikaze Palm Tree have been a relative mystery. Now, in times no less mysterious, Drag City welcomes them, celebrating the energy of their second LP, where KPT play their offbeat strain of 21st century rock. Making MINT CHIP, Dylan Hadley and Cole Berliner reach deeper into their bag of tricks than ever before, dialoguing with an absurd shared intent they haven't yet paused to question. The off-center pieces gathered together for Good Boy have given way to pulsing aquatic compositions on MINT CHIP. Cole's guitar tones, wire thin, bell-like, bluesily downtuned, slinky and sliding elegantly, arc purposeful around their peripherals. Dylan's kit work, effortless yet precise, grounded with heavy bottom, drives and interacts organically with all the emerging structure, nailing down finely detailed frames and canvases to backdrop her singing and the unremitting landing of melodies and songs. With the addition of Josh Puklavetz, things that didn't make sense before - like bass - are now on the beach, fully lotioned, essence to essence. Violin and clarinet (Laena Myers Ionita and Brad Caulkins, respectively) round out the tonal spectrum. All strung together in the foothills of Altadena's Wiggle World Studios with Hartling back in the engineer's seat and Tim Presley producing the proceedings!

As Spacemoth's Maryam Qudus was hard at work in her recording studio, synthesizers piled high, she found her mind in another place, hypnotized by the questions swirling inside her: “How could I ever face this world alone?” she wondered. “How long will I be able to stay in this place that I love?” Attempting to understand her position in the universe, the relationships that hold her together, and the climate crisis unfolding around her, she realized ruminating over these concerns was paradoxically taking her away from precious experiences. No Past No Future is the reckoning point between nostalgia and nihilism: the struggle to hang on to a moment as it warps in time.

Devotion to music has driven Qudus—a performer, composer, and producer based in the Bay Area—for as long as she can remember. At age twelve, she traded chores for guitar lessons; at sixteen, she took on after school jobs to pay for voice lessons. As a first-generation Afghan-American child of working-class immigrant parents, finding a place in music has been nothing short of a challenge for Qudus.

The bulk of performance on Spacemoth songs comes from Qudus herself, who favors vintage synths like the Yamaha CS-50 and Korg Polysix alongside fluttering tape manipulations; these create cosmic, lush soundbeds, drawing comparisons to beloved projects like Broadcast and Stereolab. On songs like “Waves Come Crashing,” a whirlwind of noise leads into darker, bass-heavy instrumentation as she confronts the inevitability of death: “These fears, they have taken our years,” she laments about the anxiety of mortality. On “Pipe and Pistol,” Qudus explores the experience of being an immigrant starting over in America. The song showcases punchy rhythms, reminiscent of Devo’s post-punk dynamism: “I see your face / my powers, they raise,” she sings with potency. Identifying cyclical habits inspired “Round In Loops,” which highlights patterns we endure in our lives and minds. “Boss is waiting / we run / love is fading / we run,” Qudus commands, encouraging escapism and a break to the cycle of mundanity.

Every track flows with Qudus’ low timbered vocals, in harmony with the watery, glowing synthesizers that anchor the album. The result is a record rich in intergalactic, avant-pop, radiating in astonishment at the vast, emotional landscape humans contain within ourselves, and in wonder at the preciousness of our time on earth.

The members of Szun Waves may not have been collectively in the same country, let alone room, for over two years, but that hasn't prevented them from realising their third album, Earth Patterns. The trio - comprised of producer Luke Abbott, saxophonist Jack Wyllie (Portico Quartet) and drummer Laurence Pike (Triosk/PVT/Liars) - recorded the album sessions together at the tail end of their 2019 European tour, locking themselves away in the studio for three days of improvisation. They emerged with hours of music, some inspired by their live shows, most born fresh in the studio itself, ready to be moulded into the group's third album in five years.

2020. The year of the corona-pandemic, when the music world was forced into a standstill, five old friends put in motion an old idea that had been lingering - and what eventually was to become a new band and powerhouse: The Halo Effect.
The members of The Halo Effect are not only masters of their domain, but also some of the pioneers of the Gothenburg melodeath scene; Lead guitarists and melodic deathslingers Niclas Engelin and Jesper Strömblad, lead singer and raging growler and lyricist Mikael Stanne, further on adding to this mix is the solid backbone and foundation of power bassist Peter Iwers, and his partner in crime since twenty plus years, hard-hitting drummer Daniel Svensson.
Knowing each other from an early age during the late 80’s and then playing together in different constellations during the 90’s, they came to dominate the Metal scene in Gothenburg - mainly being part of the two major bands and metal exports In Flames and Dark Tranquillity, also two of the pioneers and major forces behind the melodeath monicker: The Gothenburg Sound. A sound that would echo far and wide across the world and influence countless of metal bands during the 90’s and early 2000’s.This was also the initial thought behind The Halo Effect - to go back to the roots and
explore what the groundbreaking metal sounded like then. And add the experience and skills of what the members could bring to the table now. The result is an exceptional album and real tour de force to fans of melodeath where the echoes of the Gothenburg Sound is evident. The Halo Effect delivers the goods in a brutally efficient display of heart pounding beats, melodic mayhem and furious growling at its best. Raw, yetmelodic, and in your melted face.Buckle up and remove your ear plugs. The restrictions are being lifted, the pandemic is over, and The Halo Effect is finally ready to meet its audience all over the world.

2020. The year of the corona-pandemic, when the music world was forced into a standstill, five old friends put in motion an old idea that had been lingering - and what eventually was to become a new band and powerhouse: The Halo Effect.
The members of The Halo Effect are not only masters of their domain, but also some of the pioneers of the Gothenburg melodeath scene; Lead guitarists and melodic deathslingers Niclas Engelin and Jesper Strömblad, lead singer and raging growler and lyricist Mikael Stanne, further on adding to this mix is the solid backbone and foundation of power bassist Peter Iwers, and his partner in crime since twenty plus years, hard-hitting drummer Daniel Svensson.
Knowing each other from an early age during the late 80’s and then playing together in different constellations during the 90’s, they came to dominate the Metal scene in Gothenburg - mainly being part of the two major bands and metal exports In Flames and Dark Tranquillity, also two of the pioneers and major forces behind the melodeath monicker: The Gothenburg Sound. A sound that would echo far and wide across the world and influence countless of metal bands during the 90’s and early 2000’s.This was also the initial thought behind The Halo Effect - to go back to the roots and
explore what the groundbreaking metal sounded like then. And add the experience and skills of what the members could bring to the table now. The result is an exceptional album and real tour de force to fans of melodeath where the echoes of the Gothenburg Sound is evident. The Halo Effect delivers the goods in a brutally efficient display of heart pounding beats, melodic mayhem and furious growling at its best. Raw, yetmelodic, and in your melted face.Buckle up and remove your ear plugs. The restrictions are being lifted, the pandemic is over, and The Halo Effect is finally ready to meet its audience all over the world.

2020. The year of the corona-pandemic, when the music world was forced into a standstill, five old friends put in motion an old idea that had been lingering - and what eventually was to become a new band and powerhouse: The Halo Effect.
The members of The Halo Effect are not only masters of their domain, but also some of the pioneers of the Gothenburg melodeath scene; Lead guitarists and melodic deathslingers Niclas Engelin and Jesper Strömblad, lead singer and raging growler and lyricist Mikael Stanne, further on adding to this mix is the solid backbone and foundation of power bassist Peter Iwers, and his partner in crime since twenty plus years, hard-hitting drummer Daniel Svensson.
Knowing each other from an early age during the late 80’s and then playing together in different constellations during the 90’s, they came to dominate the Metal scene in Gothenburg - mainly being part of the two major bands and metal exports In Flames and Dark Tranquillity, also two of the pioneers and major forces behind the melodeath monicker: The Gothenburg Sound. A sound that would echo far and wide across the world and influence countless of metal bands during the 90’s and early 2000’s.This was also the initial thought behind The Halo Effect - to go back to the roots and
explore what the groundbreaking metal sounded like then. And add the experience and skills of what the members could bring to the table now. The result is an exceptional album and real tour de force to fans of melodeath where the echoes of the Gothenburg Sound is evident. The Halo Effect delivers the goods in a brutally efficient display of heart pounding beats, melodic mayhem and furious growling at its best. Raw, yetmelodic, and in your melted face.Buckle up and remove your ear plugs. The restrictions are being lifted, the pandemic is over, and The Halo Effect is finally ready to meet its audience all over the world.

One of the most active bebop trumpeters, Kenny Dorham started in the big bands of Mercer, Ellington, Lionel Hampton, Billy Eckstine and Dizzy Gillespie and eventually landed in the Charlie Parker Quintet. In addition, he was a charter member of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers, recorded as a sideman with Thelonious Monk and Sonny Rollins and replaced Clifford Brown in the Max Roach Quintet. Throughout his career he can be heard playing trumpet on various recordings with Lou Donaldson, Sonny Stitt, Fats Navarro, Kenny Clarke, Mary Lou Williams and many more musical legends.

“Quiet Kenny” is a jazz masterpiece. Recorded by the great Rudy Van Gelder with a group of musicians playing at the top of their game, this title continues to be one of the most collectible Jazz LPs due to its high demand and short supply.


PLAYERS:

Kenny Dorham, trumpet
Tommy Flanagan, piano
Paul Chambers, bass
Art Taylor, drums

THE HITMAN aka MARVELLOUS CAIN delivers his most sought after tracks on vinyl!

RETURN OF THE HITMAN collects together 16 of the most exclusive cuts from Marvellous Cain’s extensive back catalogue, all remastered and presented as a collectable vinyl box set package.

This album has been a long time coming, much of that time spent by Marvellous Cain digging through his studio to find original DAT recordings of his most in demand hits, in the process unearthing some exclusive, never before released gems!

This album kicks off with 2 versions of arguably his most notorious track Hitman, a certified jungle classic from 1994! For this compilation, Marvellous Cain has selected the version of Hitman previously only available on his debut Gun Talk LP back in 1995 (released on Suburban Base). He’s also treated us to the very long overdue, unreleased, DJ Stretch Dubplate VIP, originally produced in ’94, but never pressed to vinyl!

On the flip are two cuts from the infamous Lucky Spin imprint... Life Is Rollin & Miss Out. Both tracks were originally available as a very limited white label press, but never got a full release. This has been selling for £90 on reseller sites due to its scarcity.

Record 2 is again packed with rare music, with 3 of the 4 cuts being unreleased to date. The first track Will I See You? has traded hands for an incredible £500 on Discogs, we can see many buying Return Of The Hitman for this track alone!

Our 3rd slice of vinyl see’s Marvellous Cain teaming up for studio collaborations with original jungle don Bizzy B on Everyday Junglist, also with Libra for an unreleased alternative version of Nu Music discovered on the original session DAT from 1996.

The 4th and final slice of wax in this package introduces new remixes of a couple of classic tracks. CB4 has been reworked for 2022 by Marvellous Cain himself. Dubplate Style has a fresh ‘22 lick by D&B’s hardest working DJ Nicky Blackmarket alongside production partner FreezeUK who’s recently released on Ram Records sister label Prog:Ram!

We close out with two dubplate exclusives from 95 & 96 respectively, taken from Marvellous Cain’s personal arsenal of DJ ammunition, and now available for the first time to the record buying public.