quête:too short

Sunset edition - 300 copies

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

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

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

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

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

Words by Emmett Shoemaker

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Francesco Sotgiu has forged a unique and very swinging project of songs. With a quintet consisting of Luigi Bonafede on piano, Emanuele Cisi and Riccardo Luppi on woodwinds, Salvatore Maiore on bass, Francesco on drums, and with special guest Paolo Fresu on trumpet to cap off this heartfelt collection. There is also a nice diversity of groups within this larger collection. A nice trio piece called “Calm” featuring Paolo Birro sitting in with Marco Micheli and Francesco. And one called “Lotus Blossom” where Francesco shows his considerable skills and soul on violin. But the bulk of the material is straight-ahead jazz and is totally swinging and soulful, proving that jazz has no borders and is a worldwide language to which Francesco has added to that tradition with this project and all the great voices he has included here. Bravo maestro.

This is the comment of Gil Goldstein, American accordion player who won 5 Grammys and collaborated with giants such as Gil Evans, Wayne Shorter, and Michel Petrucciani.

This record was recorded in the middle of the pandemic times, and most of the work for preparing this record took place via the telephone: the selection of the songs on paper, the exchange of ideas on arrangements, staff and instruments, a sort of “phone rehearsal” of the structure of the songs, with the choice of a solo; everything else, everything that will happen in the recording sessions, is the result of a controlled improvisation, a jam session masterfully captured in the studio through the use of well-positioned ribbon microphones.

This is why “Passing,” literally “passing” or “crossing”: because the musicians have gone through listening to these songs as teenagers, and find themselves today, as a mature meeting of old friends who create an informal game made of nostalgic fun, great personality, confrontation, and deep spirituality. In the classic “Caravan” by Ellington and Tizol or “Afro Blue” by Mongo Santamaria, Coltrane toning, the Latin accent of the rhythm section supports the interpretation of the theme and the interplay in the solos between the soprano and tenor saxophones by Cisi & Luppi, and the piano by Bonafede.

A certain elegance in the execution distinguishes pieces such as Duke Ellington’s “Sound of Love,” yet another tribute by Mingus to the Duke, with a calibrated solo on the double bass of Maiore and the flute by Luppi, the immortal “Take Five” by Paul Desmond, with the highlighted soprano by Cisi, “Wishes,” “7th Street,” and the eponymous “Passing,” all pieces composed by Sotgiu, characterized by the precise medium/fast drive of the drums and a certain “cinematic” taste of the main themes.

In songs such as “Black Bats and Poles,” composed by trumpeter Jack Walrath for the Mingus Orchestra, and in “Stranatole,” an original piece in which Sotgiu writes a theme of Monk’s influence and enjoys overturning the traditional “Anatole Jazz” structure, the quintet opts for an effective hard bop language, with exciting moments of dazzling virtuosity in Bonafede’s solo. While in Coltrane’s “Wise One” and McCoy Tyner’s “Ballad for Aisha,” we enter a modal, mystical, and ceremonial jazz, of a cosmic depth, which seems to hover in the sweet volume of the great hall of the recording studio. These are truly magnificent interpretations.

A special separate mention for two classics such as “My Foolish Heart” by Victor Young, performed in trio by Sotgiu, Maiore, and the unmistakable trumpet by Paolo Fresu, and the (unfortunately very short) “Lotus Blossom” by Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington, which in the piano-violin duo of Birro and Sotgiu, in a minute gives a suspended momentary magic, sums up the roots of African-American jazz music, and also referencing an old-fashioned Italian musical sensitivity, typical of Nino Rota’s music for Federico Fellini’s films.

One of the rarest and most sought after roots grails in existence from enigmatic Jamaican Canadian singer Prince Robinson aka R. Man Prince.

Funny Dream, an apocalyptic roots stepper from 1976 is a 45 so rare that it has developed its own mythology in the small circle of collectors who know of its existence.

One rumour suggests that so few copies exist because Robinson’s Russian wife took all the records from Canada back across the iron curtain in the late 70s when they split up. Some suggested he had died.

Shella Records eventually tracked down Prince Robinson not far from Toronto and learned the true story of why the original 45 is so impossibly rare- almost all copies were destroyed shortly after they were pressed, tragically reduced to ashes inside an incinerator.

Thankfully Prince has kept the original mastertapes stored safely in a briefcase for almost 50 years knowing that his music had value and biding his time.

VENTILATEUR is an instrumental project combining sounds from the vivid worlds of contemporary jazz and postpunk. The three-piece band, consisting of Iben Stalpaert on drums, Jasper Hollevoet on bass and Daan Soenens on guitar, uses angular rhythms and flowing melodies to construct compositions that embody both contrast and cohesion. Originally from Bruges, the band currently has Ghent as its homebase.

The trio released its self-titled debut EP on 22 March 2019. VENTILATEUR won awards at Fresh Fish, Red Rock Rally and Burgrock that same year and was one of the laureates of the then brand new Sound Track. Thanks to Sound Track 2020, the band received a residency at Het Entrepot in Bruges and a year of professional coaching from VI.BE and other national players in the music landscape.

In 2020, VENTILATEUR joined forces with young Ghent theatre collective Camping Sunset for the performance Happiness. The band composed the soundtrack for the play and also performed it live during the five-week run of the production. The music was subsequently recorded and released under the title A Soundtrack For Happiness at the Brussels label Sentimental.

In 2022, VENTILATEUR released its first full-length album with W.E.R.F. Records. Hoofdplaat, titled after the village near the manor house that served as its recording location, is the result of a long process of purification. VENTILATEUR presents the essence of their sound, stripped from all ballast.

VENTILATEUR balances on the border between the ‘niche’ world of instrumental jazz and the accessible world of the pop-rock circuit. From this position, the band aims to bring instrumental music to a wider audience. Apart from being purely intrinsically artistic, the trio's ambition is to excite a new audience for cultural participation and specifically the rich genre of jazz. Through their choice of accessibility within the experimental, the band aims to form a bridge between a wider audience and a musical world still too often labelled as ‘niche’. The musicians not only focus on the club and festival circuit, but have already written soundtracks for some short film projects and are also reaching out to the theatre world.

In its early years, VENTILATEUR was mainly known within the Flemish arts landscape on the Bruges-Ghent-Brussels axis. A soundtrack for Happiness and Hoofdplaat introduced VENTILATEUR to a new audience. Songs from the albums got airtime from Radio 1, Klara and other stations, and singles appeared in national playlists. The band’s music was also picked up by VRT, which used the single Nectar during several programs. In 2023, the band scored their biggest gig yet: Ghent Jazz on a podium curated by their label, W.E.R.F. Records.

VENTILATEUR as a project can count on the support of organisations such as W.E.R.F. Records, Cactus Music Centre, Het Entrepot and VI.BE. The band also has close ties with theatre companies such as Camping Sunset, Compagnie Cecilia and Ontroerend Goed and, of course, numerous connections within the Flemish and Brussels music scene.

After four EPs of skeletal kraut-punk and slimmed down post-motorik alienage Milan’s Tv Dust are back with an entirely different beast, their proper debut ‘Transition’, an incredible collection of no-jazz, breakneck rhythms, mutant-wave, trance-funk, shredded sax jags and furious, yet mysterious assaults.

Tv Dust run a tight ship, they jam econo, with the album strongly based around the incredible interplay of drums (Sergio Tringali), bass (Filippo Aloisi) and sax/synth (newest member Gaetano Pappalardo). Shedding the use of vocals has completely freed the band up into a mutating beast, wild horses racing beside a volcano eruption, improv bursts that perfectly soundtrack the ruins of a city facing the inhuman consequences of wild expansion and dumb economics.

Transition is a no-jazz, no-panic, no-border album, born between a small bar and a basement, reworking some ideas from the first Tv Dust sessions with a new mindset, with improvisation becoming an important tool in the trio's new path that already sees releases on Occult Punk Gang, My Own Private Records, Sentiero Futuro and Maple Death.

Transition like the transformation of the group, you still get the original package of furious hypnotic grooves, shortwave radio alien funk, devo-id convulsions, jittery no-wave and Italo post-punk tradition alongside dada-jazz and freeform freakouts.

It’s a tough call which is the bigger cult classic, the Tank Girl movie or its accompanying soundtrack, but on balance, we’d have to go for the soundtrack. Yeah, the film had a cast composed of some of the most colorful characters (Iggy Pop, Ann Magnuson) and character actors (Malcolm McDowell, Ice-T, and of course the almighty Lori Petty!) in show biz.

And, its dystopic, resource-starved desert setting, intense action sequences, and lead female character mark it as a feminist (albeit funnier) precursor to Mad Max: Fury Road. But check out the soundtrack’s bona-fides: assembled by Courtney Love herself, it features a Who’s Who of ‘90s female rock including Hole, Björk, L7, Veruca Salt, and Belly among others. Plus, it even has tracks that were exclusive to its release, like a unique version of Devo’s “Girl U Want,” “Mockingbird Girl” by The Magnificent Bastards (a side project of the late Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots), and a duet of “Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall in Love” between Joan Jett and The Replacements’ Paul Westerberg. In short, if there ever was a score that needs to be on wax, this would be it. We’ve done it right, too, with a gatefold jacket featuring the trademark comic book art and stills from the film, and neon coral vinyl pressing for its 30th anniversary!

Short n’ Sweet showcases the scintillating spirit of Sabrina Carpenter, the pocket-sized popstar with a larger than life artistic presence. With a gold album & multiple platinum singles under her belt, it’s no wonder that ‘Espresso’, the debut single from the album, has it all: lyrics that make you giggle & blush and songwriting that makes you wish you’d thought of it first. The deluxe album is released with the 12 standard tracks plus 5 additional songs.

As soon as Martin Circus was born in 1969, the band laid foundations for the French "Pop Musique" genre, deliberately turning its back on both French yéyés and rock'n'roll to better embrace psychedelia and the French language. In 1971, they were a pioneering, innovative group moving as fast as a speeding train, building upon everything they found on the way. However, faced with band members changing often, management issues and music evolution, Martin Circus ended up trying to fit in every style: soul, R&B, glam rock, disco, new wave, 80s mainstream music. To follow their journey is to listen to the world shifting along music charts. Behind the scenes, since the very first days of the band, one man had been pulling all the strings. Manager and artistic director Gérard Hugé used to work for both the band and the label - this has never been good news. What he cared about the most was getting records out, no matter who played on them. In the mid-70s, he registered the Martin Circus name, granting himself full power over the band. Deciding that it no longer had either a lyricist or a composer, he made the remaining musicians embark on a series of American 60s hits adaptations. As a result, they made tons of money : "Marylène" was a huge hit and gave them a new impulse. The Martins adopted a new look by wearing shiny Courrèges-style suits and platform boots, and on stage they performed dance moves choreographed by the eccentric Amadeo. They completely fit into the disco craze which was about to take over. Still, their music blended doo-wop and rockabilly with glam rock and funk music. They eventually hit disco with a soundtrack in the mannerof French disco groups such as Space and Voyage. Effortlessly, they released the epic 14- minute "Disco Circus", a track which was to become a real underground gem. DJ and remixer François Kevorkian then released it on the American Prelude label in a self-edited version, shortened to 7 minutes while retaining all the dazzling passages of the original track. It came to be a hit in the clubs of New York and Chicago, making a lasting impression on everyone who heard it. It got sampled on at least 40 tracks over the following decades and featured in dozens of bootlegs and prestigious compilations - by Laurent Garnier, Carl Craig, Juan Atkins, Joey Negro, The Beatnuts, The Rapture, and by Danny Krivit in the DJ culture film Maestro. As the 80s arrived, Martin Circus once again changed the way they looked and their style. Inspired by Devo and their cold dance music, by Buggles' synthpop and Plastic Bertand's postpunk. Throughout their career full of ups and downs, Martin Circus nonetheless managed to keep up with one stable element: contrary to what they seemed, the musicians never took the easy way out. Their playing and arrangements were consistently flawless and polished, they relentlessly dedicated themselves to playing quality music and this can only compel admiration. As Coco Chanel once said, "Fashion goes out of fashion, style never does."

Volume 1 of this expertly curated project of 90s Italian House - put together by Don Carlos.

If Paradise was half as nice… by Fabio De Luca.

Googling “paradise house”, the first results to pop up are an endless list of European b&b’s with whitewashed lime façades, all of them promising “…an unmatched travel experience a few steps from the sea”. Next, a little further down, are the institutional websites of a few select semi-luxury retirement homes (no photos shown, but lots of stock images of smiling nurses with reassuring looks). To find the “paradise house” we’re after, we have to scroll even further down. Much further down.

It feels like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a million years ago. The Eighties had just ended, and it was still unclear what to expect from the Nineties. Mobile phones that were not the size of a briefcase and did not cost as much as a car? A frightening economic crisis? The guitar-rock revival?! Certainly, the best place to observe that moment of transition was the dancefloor. Truly epochal transformations were happening there. From America, within a short distance one from the other, two revolutionary new musical styles had arrived: the first one sounded a bit like an “on a budget” version of the best Seventies disco-music – Philly sound made with a set of piano-bar keyboards! – the other was even more sparse, futuristic and extraterrestrial. It was a music with a quite distinct “physical” component, which at the same time, to be fully grasped, seemed to call for the knotty theories of certain French post-modern philosophers: Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Paul Virilio... Both those genres – we would learn shortly after – were born in the black communities of Chicago and Detroit, although listening to those vinyl 12” (often wrapped in generic white covers, and with little indication in the label) you could not easily guess whether behind them there was a black boy from somewhere in the Usa, or a girl from Berlin, or a pale kid from a Cornish coastal town.

Quickly, similar sounds began to show up from all corners of Europe. A thousand variations of the same intuition: leaner, less lean, happier, slightly less intoxicated, more broken, slower, faster, much faster... Boom! From the dancefloors – the London ones at least, whose chronicles we eagerly read every month in the pages of The Face and i-D – came tales of a new generation of clubbers who had completely stopped “dressing up” to go dancing; of hot tempered hooligans bursting into tears and hugging everyone under the strobe lights as the notes of Strings of Life rose up through the fumes of dry ice (certain “smiling” pills were also involved, sure). At this point, however, we must move on to Switzerland.

In Switzerland, in the quiet and diligent town of Lugano, between the 1980s and 1990s there was a club called “Morandi”. Its hot night was on Wednesdays, when the audience also came from Milan, Como, Varese and Zurich. Legend goes that, one night, none less than Prince and Sheila E were spotted hiding among the sofas, on a day-off of the Italian dates of the Nude Tour… The Wednesday resident and superstar was an Italian dj with an exotic name: Don Carlos. The soundtrack he devised was a mixture of Chicago, Detroit, the most progressive R&B and certain forgotten classics of old disco music: practically, what the Paradise Garage in New York might have sounded like had it not closed in 1987. In between, Don Carlos also managed to squeeze in some tracks he had worked on in his studio on Lago Maggiore. One in particular: a track that was rather slow compared to the BPM in fashion at the time, but which was a perfect bridge between house and R&B. The title was Alone: Don Carlos would explain years later that it had to be intended both in the English meaning of “by itself” and like the Italian word meaning “halo”. That wasn’t the only double entendre about the song, anyway. Its own very deep nature was, indeed, double. On the one hand, Alone was built around an angelic keyboard pattern and a romantic piano riff that took you straight to heaven; on the other, it showcased enough electronic squelches (plus a sax part that sounded like it had been dissolved by acid rain) to pigeonhole the tune into the “junk modernity” section, aka the hallmark of all the most innovative sounds of the time: music that sounded like it was hand-crafted from the scraps of glittering overground pop.

No one knows who was the first to call it “paradise house”, nor when it happened. Alternative definitions on the same topic one happened to hear included “ambient house”, “dream house”, “Mediterranean progressive”… but of course none were as good (and alluring) as “paradise house”. What is certain is that such inclination for sounds that were in equal measure angelic and neurotic, romantic and unaffective, quickly became the trademark of the second generation of Italian house. Music that seemed shyly equidistant from all the rhythmic and electronic revolutions that had happened up to that moment (“Music perfectly adept at going nowhere slowly” as noted by English journalist Craig McLean in a legendary field report for Blah Blah Blah magazine). Music that to a inattentive ear might have sounded as anonymous as a snapshot of a random group of passers-by at 10AM in the centre of any major city, but perfectly described the (slow) awakening in the real world after the universal love binge of the so-called Second Summer of Love.

For a brief but unforgettable season, in Italy “paradise house” was the official soundtrack of interminable weekends spent inside the car, darting from one club to another, cutting the peninsula from North to centre, from East to West coast in pursuit of the latest after-hours disco, trading kilometres per hour with beats per minute: practically, a new New Year’s Eve every Friday and Saturday night. This too was no small transformation, as well as a shock for an adult Italy that was encountering for the first time – thanks to its sons and daughters – the wild side of industrial modernity. The clubbers of the so-called “fuoriorario” scene were the balls gone mad in the pinball machine most feared by newspapers, magazines and TV pundits. What they did each and every weekend, apart from going crazy to the sound of the current white labels, was linking distant geographical points and non-places (thank you Marc Augé!) – old dance halls, farmhouses and business centres – transformed for one night into house music heaven. As Marco D’Eramo wrote in his 1995 essay on Chicago, Il maiale e il grattacielo: “Four-wheeled capitalism distorts our age-old image of the city, it allows the suburbs to be connected to each other, whereas before they were connected only by the centre (…) It makes possible a metropolitan area without a metropolis, without a city centre, without downtown. The periphery is no longer a periphery of any centre, but is self-centred”.

“Paradise house” perfectly understood all of this and turned it into a sort of cyber-blues that didn’t even need words, and unexpectedly brought back a drop of melancholic (post?)-humanity within a world that by then – as we would wholly realise in the decades to come – was fully inhuman and heartless. A world where we were all alone, and surrounded by a sinister yellowish halo, like a neon at the end of its life cycle. But, for one night at least, happy.

Los Angeles-based experimental jazz collective High Pulp will release
their new album Days in the Desert in peak sweltering summer heat on
July 28
The titular desert is both literal and metaphorical: it's the Mojave Desert that the
band powers through on their many DIY tours around the country, and the band's
founder / drummer Bobby Granfelt perceives the desert as "a spiritual quest" as
well. Amid the trials of our present moment, you must look within, relying solely
on your own instincts to keep moving forward. "You're in the desert and it's a long,
lonesome process and a lot of times you have to check yourself to ask 'Is this
right? Is this good? Is it too out?'" he says.
High Pulp's Days in the Desert makes this vision come true, finding the West
Coast band fully emerging into their own sound. Rooted in the jazz tradition while
also smitten by indie- rock and electronic music, High Pulp was willing to grab
from all these sounds at once to pursue something truly their own. Their third fulllength album (following 2022's promising Anti- debut Pursuit of Ends), Days in the
Desert reveals the band realizing their strengths, deepening their own bonds, and
pushing all these skills into a thrilling new sonic vista all but unimaginable just a
few years before

Over the past few years, Giulio Erasmus has been carving out his very own musical idiom, referencing the fragmentative cause-and-effect possibilities of soundsystem culture. Accompanied for the occasion by The End Of The Worm, the recording of this concert highlights the futurist intentions of early 80s underground music in the UK and beyond. Although the expression is clear, there's continuous room for exploration and innovation. With heavy delay effects often cut short, metallic percussion, murky vocals, deconstructed electronics, and miniaturist melodies with snippets of the grandiose and the absurdly urban, all tracks here are patient, explorative, and freeform. Through curves of darkness and curves of light, this is a choreography of ideas, a passing infatuation that runs deep.

Giulio Erasmus was a member of D.U.D.S, Handle, and released his first solo outing, Re-Adjustment, in 2021. His second album, called Second Attempt, was released to acclaim in 2024 and hailed as an extremely modern take on the possibilities of underground pop through the extended ripples of soundsystem culture. Being the son of musical royalty, his father is legendary Factory Records co-founder Alan Erasmus, is almost too easy a reference. Giulio taps into 80s counterculture sonic experiment as a universal musical language that allows for futurism and fragmentation, reversing narrative logic and the transmission of musical ideas.

This recording of the amazing live performance by Giulio Erasmus & The End Of The Worm beautifully captures the investigative and unforgiving nature of all the instrumentalists that were on stage on that warm night last August in Eupen, Belgium. Through spirals of ideas, fragments, and experiment, they built a vapourous yet focused suggestion of openness and endless possibilities.

This live incident involved:
Fiona Brunet, Paul Cossé, Romain Simon, Lola Lextrait, Guyilo Erasmus

Recorded and mixed by Etienne Foyer

Introducing Utopia ‘Now Playing” on Opaque Blue vinyl - Experience Wiz Khalifa through a blend of his greatest hits and fan favourites. Including "Black And Yellow," which became an anthem representing his Pittsburgh roots, "See You Again" an emotional tribute featured in the Furious 7 soundtrack and "Young, Wild & Free," a collaboration with Snoop Dogg, celebrating carefree living. This tracklist highlights Wiz's versatility and impact on both hip-hop and mainstream music.

Nat King Cole was born Nathaniel Adams on the 17th March 1917 in Montgomery, Alabama, USA. His family held a key position in the local black community with his father being pastor of the local Baptist church.

His first professional break came touring with the Broadway show “shuffle along” which eventually found its way to Los Angeles. Where Nat ended up playing at the century club on Santa Monica boulevard. This was an in-place for musicians and Nat’s already developed and incredible piano playing became a great attraction eventually forming a trio with Oscar Moore on guitar and Wesley Price on bass. With Nat’s great voice and add libs the trio were a great success in 1939/40.

In 1943 Cole signed to the infant Capitol records and began his enormous string of hits for that label and eventual amazing career partnership with the great arranger and orchestra leader Nelson Riddle. This was at the time of popular music already pioneered by Bing Crosby and latterly Frank Sinatra and something Nat would become a master of, with his by now incredible, highly developed and unique voice which we all instantly recognise.

Right up until his untimely and tragic death on 15th February 1965, Nat made a string of successful records for capitol, a string of film appearances, and the first black presenter of his own tv show, which ran for many years and introduced a whole host of new and old artists to the television screens. As is so often with people so talented, Nat’s life was short but extremely successful. He was a well loved and admired person with his vibrant and kind personality with many great friends and colleagues and made an enormous contribution to the music industry, civil rights and the world in general.

As a singer and pianist, he was exceptionally talented, and his voice will live on in immortality. His ability to express and sing any song was quite extraordinary to say the least and these recordings are a fine example of that ability. A must have for all music lovers!

Black Truffle is thrilled to begin 2025 with a rare solo release from Konrad Sprenger, alias of elusive Berlin composer-producer-instrument builder Jörg Hiller. A prolific collaborator, Sprenger has worked extensively with icons of American minimalism such as Ellen Fullman (with whom her recorded the gloriously eccentric song album Ort) and Arnold Dreyblatt (as a core member of the Orchestra of Excited Strings since 2009), as well as releasing their music on his impeccably curated label, Choose. As an instrument builder and installation artist, he has overseen the creation of a computer-controlled multi-channel electric guitar and, with Phillip Sollmann, a modular pipe organ system designed to be reconfigured from space to space.

In much of Hiller’s work, a scientific approach to acoustic phenomena co-exists with a pop sensibility and a sly sense of humour. Nowhere is this unique combination more in evidence than in his slim body of solo work, beginning with the startling diversity of instrumentation and compositional approaches heard on the short pieces of Miniaturen (2006) and Versprochen (2009), followed by the more single-minded exploration of the computer-controlled electric guitar on Stack Music (2017). Set brings together these various strands of Sprenger’s work into a wildly infectious, playful epic, performed by the composer and the mysterious Ensemble Risonanze Moderne. On the LP’s second side, we are also treated to a guest appearance from longtime collaborator Oren Ambarchi, on whose recent solo releases Simian Angel and Shebang Sprenger has made key production contributions. Ambarchi’s signature stuttering, swirling harmonics weave through a sparkling assemblage of electric guitars, acoustic instruments, percussion and electronics—though, given the deft use that much of Sprenger’s recent production work makes of midi-controlled sampled instrumentation, it’s anyone’s guess where the acoustic ends and the digital begins here.

As soon as the needle drops on the first side, we are inside a musical world that Set will inhabit for its 33 minutes: sparkling guitar harmonics and palm-muted notes, tuned percussion, crisp electronic drum hits, flashes of horns, and untraceable bursts of synthetic sound are arranged into a skittering polyrhythmic framework calling up the detail-rich percussive constructions of contemporary techno filtered through the pointillism of the post-serialist European avant-garde. Behind this shifting mist of particulate sound, winds and strings sound out held chords, reminiscent of Arthur Russell’s Tower of Meaning in their epic yet seemingly aimless drift. The relationship between elements is mysterious, appearing both carefully considered and almost random. Though never straying too far from where it begins, as the piece moves along, it spotlights increasingly bizarre instrument choices (shakuhachi and steel drums, anyone?) as well as momentary liftoffs into motorik propulsion. Set is a fascinating, mercurial thing: at once propulsive and fragmented, essentially static in form yet ever-changing in detail, unabashedly egghead in its construction yet sure to get the feet tapping.

46 tracks on a 3-LP collection – including: Adam & The Ants, Kate Bush, The Jam, Madness, Diana Ross, Lipps Inc, Paul McCartney, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark,

Spandau Ballet, Ramones, Siouxsie And The Banshees, Odyssey, Kool & The Gang…

2025 Repress

Tazz is back on wax after a short break with three high quality grooves produced over the last few years. The local DJ/Producer and dear friend of the shop took some time out to start a family after a serious stretch of releases on labels Underground Quality, Tsuba, New Kanada and his own Infected Rhythms.

We are overjoyed to present ‘Razmattaz’, a serious 12” for your crate & the return to form of a top notch music maker :-)

T1000 kicks it off, taking up the whole A side for an 11-minute ride that could just keep on thumping. Deep & dubby Techno to lock the movers and shakers in an extended moment of gentle intensity.

TWA, short for Techno With Attitude, has Tazz going at you with an anthem for bringing down the walls! May we recommend it for high volume play, working the kick bins and getting the tweeters singing.

Underground 5 is the House jam to tip the scales. A collaboration with long time friend Bacanito. You can feel the chemistry was right on the day they laid it down. Play it out, and let us know how it goes?

Mixed by Christian Pronovost (B1) & Marcelo Cruz (A, B2).

Mastered by Miguel Graça.

Writing music, for singer-songwriter and producer Fine, “feels like being entrusted with a secret.” On Rocky Top Ballads, the Copenhagen-based musician’s debut album, these secrets take the form of minimalist compositions that search for glimpses of beauty in the everyday. Recorded, produced, and mixed by Fine, the album is a mystical soundtrack to a captivating songwriter’s explorations of process and intuition.

“The whole album is about the moments when you see a crack in something,” Fine explains, “where you briefly see another side of yourself or of someone you've known forever.”

Fine grew up in Denmark’s rural Northern Jutland; there, her father’s guitar and banjo playing formed the sonic backdrop of her childhood. In the years since, her musical curiosity has led her to work across a range of styles and sounds. In her early twenties, she became part of Danish electronic trio Chinah, which released three albums. You might also have caught her sampled vocals on the joyfully rollicking Two Shell song “Home,” from 2021. Then, last year, she — along with Erika de Casier and Smerz — co-wrote three songs for the massive, critically lauded K-pop group New Jeans. Fine is also a part of Clarissa Connelly Canons group back home in Denmark, and writes music under the moniker Coined with composer and songwriter Astrid Sonne.

But Rocky Top Ballads is a turn back towards a more personal, stream-of-consciousness songwriting style. Fine wrote and recorded these songs sporadically over the course of the last few years. In light of Chinah’s collaborative, piecemeal production style, Fine craved a more organic, intuitive process for these songs. Her work on the record combines sample-based production with the sounds of instruments she and her collaborators could hold in their hands, ones that inspired free-flowing improvisation: electric and acoustic guitar, even the Ensoniq keyboard that was in her childhood home. The resulting songs are equally inspired by the country and folk of her childhood, the hazy beauty of Mazzy Star, the avant-garde pop of Dean Blunt, and the songwriting of ’90s singer-songwriters like Suzanne Vega.

Fine describes her songwriting process as a “magical thinking method”: being in contact with the present moment and pretending as if she already knows the song she’s about to write. Many of the songs on Rocky Top Ballads use the original takes of Fine’s vocals, an attempt to capture a song’s initial essence and avoid disturbing the song’s generative idea as much as possible. You can hear that well-preserved spark on songs like “Losing Tennessee,” a minimalist and wistful reflection on the inherent loss and change of growing older. She wrote other tracks, like the piano-led “Whys” and the woozy “Coasting,” through a process of cutting and layering her improvisations, carefully merging multiple musical snippets into newly seamless compositions. And the stunning closing track “A Star” is the product of a slow process of evolution: beginning as an understated expression of sincerity before dissolving into a rich, distorted guitar-driven exploration.

As a songwriter and producer, Fine’s work often peers into the universes of experience that can be hidden inside a fragmentary moment. Sometimes she explores this literally — as in “Days Incomplete,” which she built off a short sample from “A Star.” This impulse — to zoom in, to recontextualize, to excavate — threads throughout her lyrics, too. What happens, her songs ask, when we pay close attention to those everyday images and physical realities we might otherwise ignore: the sky, the rain, the sun, the sea? On the spacious and swoony “Big Muzzy,” with its gentle sway and Cocteau Twins-inflected vocals, Fine sings about watching the “summer turn blue”; the grooving, propulsive “Remember The Heart” is a love letter to the sea where she grew up. In her airy voice, Fine traces meandering melodies that continually unspool with fresh insights.

A particular mantra guided Fine’s songwriting throughout the creation of Rocky Top Ballads: “Everything has potential.” In these songs, small moments are worthy of deep contemplation, and gentleness can evoke worlds of emotion. The resulting songs offer a gift of momentary pleasure, flowing and unhurried as a gentle breeze.

Marissa Lorusso

Limitiert auf 500 Stk. – 100 Stk.


OSS! Spy vs. Spy! MI6! All operating in the shadows of darkness and danger... listen...underneath that double-trouble of uncertainty lays the groove. The exotic and the erotic sounds. 007! The music with a license to kill and thrill. When the clock strikes five and it is cocktail time, no man is a match for the soundtrack of the Femme fatale of the underworld. Shake that thing baby-don"t stir it....and the Martini too. The spy universe has been quite an inspiration for composers and orchestras. Lounge music, Exotica and symphonic, this record will have you spinning the globe hitting every longitude and latitude from Bangkok to Rio. So drop that needle and get on board this second volume as this jet is leaving the gate right on time.

"It's a game of hopscotch while drunk on sleep deprivation. It's a dance based on inaudible, but irrepressible rhythms. It's interaction dressed up like a call & response game wrapped up in a sparring match full of agitation and confusion. It's a manic pursuit over wobbly scaffolding, broken roof tiles or a creaking suspension bridge. It's an irregular movement that snaps, roars, drips, defies, tumbles, slithers, cajoles, interrupts, sizzles, triples, dodges, throws curveballs, causes panic, restores order, well kinda, and stutters and mutters. It's like Jaap Blonk's invented Onderlands: a language that sounds familiar, but that ultimately defies comprehension. It's part application and part imagination, it's a mystery and a trap. It's a system, perhaps, and an attempt at something, probably, but it's not, definitely not, a holiday. The idea!" - Guy Peters Ken Vandermark (US) and Terrie `Ex' Hessels (NL) have been playing together for years. For example, the Chicago reed player has been a guest with The Ex almost 100 times and the two are also part of Lean Left, an explosive improvising quartet with Andy Moor and Paal Nilssen-Love. It took them until 2014 before they went on stage for the first time as a duo. A dozen concerts followed on various international stages and resulted in their first LP `Scaffolding' recorded upstairs in the Witte Villa, Wormer. Released in 2019. This new release is the result of an blasting tour in Poland, 2021. Recorded live in the SARP Social Club in Poznan. `This is not a holiday!' Eight improvisations; eight musical adventures!

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

Horrible Occurrences is the title of the new Advance Base album, and there is truth in advertising. In these songs_all centered around a fictional town called Richmond and featuring an interlinked cast of characters_you will hear stories of death and disappearance, climactic confrontations and unsolved mysteries. "Richmond is just this place where all the bad memories live," Owen Ashworth explains, and nearly 30 years into his songwriting career, none of his records have packed quite the emotional intensity of this one. And yet something alchemical happens in the telling of these tales. Like a masterful short story collection, Horrible Occurrences is inspiring and alive, idiosyncratic and electric, pulling you closer with each word. In the six years since his last full-length collection of originals, 2018's Animal Companionship, Ashworth gathered ideas from performing live and traveling around the country, returning to cities that he once called home and revisiting old ghosts, memories, and fragments of unfinished ideas. Blending truth and fiction into a dreamlike composite, the songs convey the winding path our memory takes as the years go by, giving voice to a subconscious that is still unpacking old memories for new wisdom. Drawing inspiration from the otherworldly loneliness depicted on '80s masterpieces like Arthur Russell's World of Echo and Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, the music never crowds Ashworth's detailed storytelling but it also never feels auxiliary. These are beautiful songs, but they stick with you for their ability to strike dissonant, unforgettable emotional chords. It is this pervasive empathy in Ashworth's songwriting_along with his writerly gift for clear settings and complex characters_that has made him a guiding light for so many independent artists. The things that happen throughout Horrible Occurrences are what we tend to call "unspeakable"_events that draw gut-level responses just from acknowledging that they could happen. But part of the triumph of the record is how simply and generously Ashworth finds the language to share them. For the characters in these songs who make it out okay, these are the types of memories they will be tossing and turning their whole lives, waiting for quiet moments to confide them among the people they trust. For the rest of us, they are signs of life along the highway on a dark, snowy night: reminders that, as isolated as we may feel, we are not alone on the road.

Jabu return with ‘A Soft and Gatherable Star’, an LP that sees the Bristol-based trio evolve from a uniquely spectral take on trip hop to proffer a singular vision between cloudy, downered dream-pop, off-kilter ambient, and the warm, low-end throb of sound system culture. This development is aligned with contemporaries like HTRK, Dean Blunt, Tarquin Manek, YL Hooi and Rat Heart Ensemble, whilst also harkening back to the likes of AR Kane (with whom they are set to play shows and release a collaborative single), the languorous drift of 'Victorialand' era Cocteau Twins or The Cure circa ‘Disintegration’. Comprising Jasmine Butt (vocals, guitar), Alex Rendall (vocals, keys) and Amos Childs (production, bass guitar), the trio’s method may have shifted but the feel remains consistent - slow, spatial, sensuous and gently melancholic. With a career arc unlike almost any other current guitar outfit, Jabu sit within a strong lineage of off-centre Bristolian music, and a very British strain of home-spun DIY bands. Self-recorded between Jas and Amos’ home in South Bristol and Amos’ mum’s house in rural North Somerset, the album came together via a process of trial and error - learning to play on borrowed instruments, using the equipment “wrong”, staying up late recording and slipping into strange, semi-conscious sleep deprived/inebriated headspaces. Having captured over 50 tracks, they honed in on those they liked most, shaping them further, whilst carving out space to allow input from people they love and admire - Daniela Dyson’s voice and Will Memotone's clarinet on ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’, Birthmark's synth on ‘Gently Fade’ and ‘Sea Mills’, Rakhi Singh (Manchester Collective) and Sebastian Gainsborough (Vessel)’s strings and arrangements on ‘All Night’, Josh Horsley’s cello on ‘If I Asked You, You'd Tell Me’, and Lorenzo Prati’s sax, again on ‘Sea Mills’. The album was mastered by Amir Shoat (HTRK, ML Buch, Dean Blunt, Carla Dal Forno). Influence-wise, the guitar-based material recalls the bands Amos listened to when younger, and Jas’ more folk-leaning inspirations. Deep-lying dub, hip hop and soul influences are also evident in both the way the LP was mixed, and the space ingrained in their subconscious. Tinged with melancholy, the songs cohere as a set of soliloquies and ruminations on love and tenderness. The album’s title comes from a poem by Amos’ late father which hangs on his wall and seeped into the record. ‘Ashes Over Shute Shelve’ is formed of lines from another poem of his. Recited by longtime collaborator Daniela Dyson and with Will Yates (Memotone) playing his mother’s clarinet, the track was imagined as a conversation between his parents. Geography and location also play a big part in the record, with several significant places name-checked in songs. Shute Shelve itself is a hill near Amos’ mum’s house, who explains “There’s a tree at the top with a 360° view of the Mendips, where my dad’s ashes were scattered. We used to go up there when we could first buy booze from the petrol station down the road, get drunk, light a fire, listen to music from my little battery powered CD player and sleep out without tents.” Titled after a Bristol suburb near where Amos’ grandparents lived and where Jas would spend time as a teenager, ‘Sea Mills’ references her being abandoned by friends on the Downs while high on mushrooms, stranded and missing the bus back. ‘Kosiše Flower’ references the city in Slovakia where Amos and Jas holidayed shortly after getting together and a flower he gave her, which she pressed in a book after an argument. ‘Oceanside Spider House’ is a location in Nintendo 64 game The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, where someone seeks shelter from the falling moon. Genre: Electronic / Ambient / Dream-pop

During the ‘Bad With Names’ promo campaign, Liam Shortall produced 108 new demo ideas for corto.alto, a process not focused on perfection, but rather with the aim to produce as many ideas as possible and deepen his individual writing and production style. Early 2024, he had 108 ideas in a folder - not fully composed tracks that would be placed well on a standard 12 track album, but not throw away ideas either. He decided to dedicate the following 4 months to finish 30 of these tracks; recording some of his favourite musicians in his home studio and remotely. The goal wasn’t to make a perfectly clean and polished album, but to get these ideas out into the world and explore new grooves, sound design worlds and composition ideas Each track has its own single artwork created from photos that Liam took on tour over the last year. The process of making these artworks was very similar to the music: create something from the material you have without doubting yourself - focusing on the creative process rather than the perfect end results.

This third volume of Universal Synthesizer Interface delves further into early MIDI sequencing software for personal computers, focusing on Intelligent Music Software founded by Joel Chadabe in 1984. In a short period of time (1986-1990) Intelligent Music published a series of MIDI sequencing software titles that would have rippling effects throughout the music world: M, Jam Factory, UpBeat, MidiDraw, Ovaltune, Realtime, as well as an unreleased first version of Miller Puckette’s Max. These programs were a reflection of Chadabe’s desire to create interactive and intelligent algorithmic tools for home computers. Intelligent compositional tools had been floating around for decades in mainframe computer labs, but they had largely only been accessible to people working in academic or corporate laboratories. With the birth of Intelligent Music, these tools became available to anyone with a home studio. As the personal computers of this era had become less expensive and more accessible, they had also grown exponentially in processing power and seeming intelligence. In the music press from this time, we find the same two words used again and again to describe algorithmic computer systems: smart and intelligent. The tone of such articles may seem quaint by today’s standards, when AI and algorithmic control underpin so much of our technology, but the question of machine intelligence remains. Universal Synthesizer Interface VOL III Focuses exclusively on one of the more obscure of Intelligent Music’s software creations - UpBeat: The Intelligent Rhythm Sequencer, released in 1987, and hailed by reviewers of the time as “the world’s best drum machine.”

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

High Hopes - New album from the Mole.
High Hopes is 17 songs across 40 minutes on one slice of wax that, as advertised, sounds nothing like last month’s Ep, High Dreams. Here, rather than the long form dance form, is a continuation of the beat tape pacing from the last album, a collection of moments posing as ideas posing as a narrative stuffed with oddities and surprises that reward the close listen.
What’s heard on High Hopes is the Mole’s exploration of a love letter, from one person to a family, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic, from a boy to a painted bird. Vancouver Island to Manantiales. The songs range from ambient sound bath and hip hop sludge, up to micro boogie and almost House before tumbling back down and forth again. Bubbling synths, MPCs swung out, samples chopped and chewed, bass and violins from Rick and Sophie, field recordings of birds and frogs and beaches, friends and family and fiestas. Did we mention the love ?! This album has got it all! Original collages from Antonio Carrau envelope this wax: jacket, sleeve and cookie. Antonio’s work is typified by playful combinations and bold statements about living in a embrace of analog and digital health. His co lages marry the corporeal world with an updated, digitalized age of reproduction, inducing feelings of gratitude for the simple everyday scenes we sometimes lose touch with when we forget to slow down. Good living, like breathing, requires inhaling as well as exhaling.
We can’t always produce content, make art, we must also pause, and listen. And enjoy. The Mole is joined by friends and colleagues on several songs included on High Hopes. Rick May plays bass on both Que Rico and album stand out GoinF4er. Sophie Trudeau (Godspeed You Black Emperor) plays and arranges violins on GoinF4er and Danuel Tate (Cobblestone Jazz) and Julz Chaz (Wagon Repair) both play Vibes and Emaxx throughout the album. Working with these incredible talents not only enriched this album, but fulfilled a long standing goal of the Mole’s; to work again with the musicians from whom he learned so much. People who helped inform the shape of Mole to come.
The Mole who was As High As The Sky. The Mole has been ‘recognized’ by the ‘global underground’ since his critically celebrated premiere album, As High As The Sky, but his earlier Eps (Wagon Repair, Philpot, Musique Risquee) got the attention of Top DJs, clubs, and festivals around the world first. His sound remains unique, fresh and deep: enjoying plays in a wide variety of spaces and places.
High Hopes is the Mole’s 5th solo album and his 2nd album for Circus Company (The River Widens) who have also proudly released two eps of Mole magic (Little Sunshine, High Dreams).
*Isn’t that too much time for one record? Short answer - No. Long answer - depends on the material. Due to the many quiet passages in the album, the groove spacing can be modulated and the needle can slow it’s progress towards the center/end resulting in longer sides with continued high gain and low distortion.

Gavin Vanaelst runs the space Aboli Bibelot in Antwerp where exhibitions and musical performances can happen side to side with dealings in centuries-old furniture and unique pieces of folk art or volkskunst. Gavin makes music under the aliases DJ Charme, Kassett and So Sorry. This is the first album under his birth name. Takeaway Loops cycles back to the days when Gavin was working as a courier for .

is a food delivery company. Their couriers - ehm, brand ambassadors, as the company prefers to call them - dressed in bright orange, they race their bikes around the city. They deliver meals and groceries for all sorts. Thanks to them, the privileged can stay tucked in their private spaces. Interaction between the two groups - the privileged and the brand ambassadors - is mostly kept to the bare minimum. And sparse communications are often driven by annoyances - “my Coke is warm because you kept it too close to the French Fries.” And on the streets the general public dis-approaches the brand ambassadors with pity. We tell our peers: “That’s not a good job,” and “stay away from the Sharing Economy.” Because, you know, in our capitalistic dollhouse we all stand our grounds and play our parts wholeheartedly.

During his shifts for , Gavin recorded location sounds on his phone at fast food restaurants while waiting on the orders he had to pick up and deliver. Later in his home studio Gavin added piano and electronics to this source material. The result: a gloomy soundtrack for a shadow world. Seven songs in evening blue with a bright orange glare.

A few years ago, our favorite Belgian publishing house Het Balanseer released Seizoenarbeid by Heike Geissler (available in English trough Semiotext(e)). Geissler writes about her job at Amazon in Leipzig. Because her writing and freelance work did not pay the bills any longer, she was forced towards this underprivileged shadow-world of unwanted jobs. Seizoenarbeid shed a light on freedom in an unfree world. A monument of ‘we are all in this, but not together’. Takeaway Loops gives us a similar peak in a world that is at the same time so visible, but then also very veiled for many. A world that we prefer to use, yet that most of us prefer not to see - a world that we don’t like to enter.

Last year at Harbourland subway station in Kobe i was mesmerized by its sound design, created by Hiroshi Yoshimura. For each part of the subway station he composed a short phrase. While walking trough the station, a full composition grows in your head. The looping melodies guide you trough a microworld. Trough a blue world of commuters, of the homeless, of the lonely, of the fast paced, of the tourist. Gavin creates a similar effect with Takeaway Loops. The tonality somehow corresponds to Yoshimura’s work. Yet instead of being guided trough a building, we are now taken to the after dark. You feel the concrete evening heat of the city. You hear the rain. Stiff fingers during cold winters’ nights. You are alone on the bike, cruising. Your maps app telling you where to go. You just left the fake leather bench of the well-lit pastiche interior of a fast food restaurant.

Next order, number ECN44! Please wait outside, sir?

Where would a painter paint if it were not on a white canvas? Where would a composer compose if it were not on the stave and the spaces in between the lines? How would a musician play his instrument if there were no melodies composed, written down, painted for him to follow?

The magic of art needs a frame, a somewhat solid container to hold the freedom that can only be found once we integrate some form of structure. And that also holds in every other area of life. We all need a frame, a structure, a rhythm, or else, we fall apart. This human form needs the body, and yet it transcends the limitations of the body - through art.

Consistency being one of them seems oftentimes less tangible, for it resides more in the act of doing, and showing up for the practice, for devoting energy and presence. Strangely, if we consistently show up for our practice, regardless of its form, the solid frame of the hour we devote to playing the instrument, learning a language, doing the sport, sitting silently for that meditation: It feels different every single time. It feels new every single time.

The repetitive consistency in being present again and again allows for nothing short of magic to happen. Magic feeds consistency. Consistency feeds magic. Consistency sets a foundation that strengthens over time. It allows us to slowly but surely develop any kind of skill, to find and hence to embody expertise. On the fertile grounds of such a solid foundation, creativity fosters, and innovation blossoms.

Establishing consistent rituals and routines can bring a sense of comfort and safety into every-day-life. For routine beholds repetition and its frame enables our experience within to change. In the familiar, we dare to explore, maybe even experiment, merely because a part of us remembers we depart from, and always return to, a safe space. We do not get lost. We do not fall apart. As we practice, again and again, we build resilience in overcoming obstacles or literally persevering through challenging situations and stretches of time.

While consistency gifts steadiness and stability, its overdose risks to result in what may appear as uniformity. It feels like constantly - consistently - dancing on the fine line of freedom within a structure. Life is filled with unexpected twists and turns, adjustments need to be made to accommodate change and avoid rigidity. By striking a balance between consistency and flexibility, we can create harmony in our lives, just like a beautiful melody that flows smoothly from one note to the next.

Within the magical waves of music, skills are needed, too. Consistency is key to show up and do the work. It frames the freedom of magic that resides beyond and only beyond effort. Learning to play an instrument, learning to sing, does never happen within the blink of the eye. It takes time. Time to show up for the practice, to do precisely that: practice. Again and again, every single time, again and again. Precision feeds perfection that falls apart inside the structure of a song, a line, a rhythm, dissolving into magic.

Consistency in practicing, in composing and sharing music with the world regardless of the form allows any musician to refine his style, to carve out his uniqueness. For any artistic expression is, after all: Unique. And this uniqueness is born inside the vessel of any structure, over and over again. Sharing music in the form of new releases and public performances nourishes the bond between artist and audience. And for that to unfold, both parties need to show up - while the underlying beat of this never-ending practice is presence fuelled by consistency.

Blue / Black splatter vinyl 2024 Repress

* Unless you have been living under a rock, XXXTENTACION is a name that needs no introduction. A true artist who was tragically slain earlier this year - XXXTENTACION left an indelible mark on culture and music in his all too brief 20 years on this planet. His catalog will go on to live forever, and he left one final piece of music for the world with SKINS. The album comes in at a short, but sweet 10 tracks with songs that delve into XXXTENTACION's deep and complex mind, and soul. With the lead single, BAD! Garnering 52M + streams in under a week, and merch drop that sold out in minutes, it is evident that XXXTENTACION's fanbase is ready for SKINS.

2024 Repress

Errol and Alex Rita’s Touching Bass are proud to present Soon Come; a landmark compilation celebrating the talents of their now intercontinental musical community and an introduction to the wide-spanning sound and feeling of their growing label. 22 original tracks spread across double 12” vinyl and split between 'day' and 'night' moods, creating exciting connections between music for both the home and the eclectic sounds of their much-loved dancefloor.

Over the past six years, Touching Bass have steadily established themselves as one of London’s most important musical incubators. More than just a club night, concert series, NTS Radio mainstay and a label, Touching Bass has become something of a movement: a community meeting grounds for music lovers and some of the most exciting contemporary music-makers both in the capital and beyond.

The tracklist is a reflection of that, curated by TB’s Errol, Alex Rita and Sammseed over the course of two years. Among the list of contributors are Chicago/New York’s keiyaA, Stones Throw’s DJ Harrison, Ben Hauke, Ego Ella May, recent WARP signee Nala Sinephro, Melo-Zed, Hiatus Kaiyote’s Clever Austin and many more (see below for tracklist). Artwork for the project comes from Alex Rita, combining moments caught at Touching Bass’ own gatherings over the years.

Since launching properly in 2019, Touching Bass has quickly established itself as one of the UK’s most exciting new labels. The young imprint has championed critically respected and refreshingly innovative works with little genre restriction, receiving recognition from both musical and cultural bil. From the electrifying grooves of Danish trio, Athletic Progression, to the modern classical of South London’s CKTRL (featuring Duval Timothy).

Along the way, Errol and Alex have also been tapped up for collaborations/ commissions with some of the world’s most forward-thinking creatives and institutions; from the world-renowned White Cube gallery for Frieze Week 2021 and fashion designers Nicholas Daley and Azura Lovisa to film music supervision for Ronan McKenzie and Joy Yamasungie’s WATA and multi-award winning director, Jenn Nkiru’s (Beyonce, Kamasi Washington, Neneh Cherry) Black To Techno, the experimental documentary which premiered at Frieze Los Angeles and was nominated for ‘Best Short’ at the IDA Awards.

For newcomers, Soon Come acts as a vital introduction to the label’s wide-spanning DNA. For those already acquainted, it’s a glimpse at its exciting future.

Nuclear's seventh studio release brings something different to the table. Three new rabid songs and three covers songs are going to be way too much brutality for you to easily process. Beware; this new album will transport you to the early 90s and will not let you go until it ends. Thick sounding guitars, insanely fast drumming and non-stop deafening screams are the key ingredients for the perfect storm: VIOLENT DNA.
Not to be missed songs: "Violent DNA" and "Psychological Infanticide", are just a hint of this short but effective aggression from this south American quintet. Even without listening to it, you'll be caught by just looking at the graphic and gruesome cover art.
Without a doubt, VIOLENT DNA will become a MUST for all metalheads in 2024.
This is something we cannot change: This is our Violent DNA.
Sound Like: Early Sepultura, Vomitory, Sodom, Exodus, Obituary, Slayer and Napalm Death.

In Cornish slang it is said that things get done ‘dreckly’; that is, not now, not necessarily tomorrow, but, at some indefinite point...in the future...soon...

Fitting then that when Bristol’s Langkamer decamped to their de facto home-from-home in the picturesque south-west seaside town of Falmouth to record their third album in as many years (with an EP thrown in there too) - there was no particular need to rush things: “The process was much slower and more considered for Langzamer.”, drummer/vocalist Josh Jarman explains: “The first two albums felt pretty urgent, and each was finished in about 6 months, but this one feels a lot more deliberate. It’s taken us two years to get this done.”

Equally fitting too that Langzamer kicks off proceedings with ‘Heart of Tin’: the first bars are languidly lugubrious, so deliciously plucked-out and scuzzed-up that they linger in the air like passing smoke, magically, slowing time down to their own assured and steady will. And in so much time, that also feels like no time at all, comes an opening line of such stark, disarming confessionalism as might be found in the David Berman/Silver Jews songbook: “Do you want the good news or the bad news first? // They’re both bad news, but the bad is worse” It’s Langkamer in a nutshell: embattled, heart-on-sleeve Slacker Rock slaked with twinges of fret-sliding Americana, yet deeply embedded in the folk mythologies, colloquialisms and experiences of the band’s West Country roots.

Throughout Langzamer, confronting the listener again and again is this conflict between the band’s breezy, melodic charm, and the threat of something more sinister lurking in the undergrowth. While those more familiar with Langkamer’s oeuvre to date will have already come to know and love their often self-deprecating yet witty lyricism, the songs on Langzamer take this trademark ebullient gloominess to more challenging plains: “Principally this is an album about grief, and everything that entails...” explains Jarman. “in a sense death brought these songs to life.”

This thread is felt no more so than on ‘Salvation XL’. Inspired by a “particularly bad batch of food poisoning I had in Morocco”, Jarman explains, and beginning with the memorable opening line, “Jesus came to me a Burger King in Marrakech”, the band wind their way through the ‘big topics’: death and God.

“This trip was shortly after a few of my friends had passed away, and I think a lot of my thoughts and actions at that time were being influenced by my grief without me realising it.”, he explains, “Whenever I dwell on grief, and how death has given my life a new context, I come back to that. The ongoing battle between agnosticism and atheism. I wasn’t raised in a very strict religious home, but I come from a long line of methodists, and it’s interesting to think about the way theism and religion have shaped my life without me knowing it. I think that’s being channelled on this album a lot. The uncertainty that comes with disbelief.”

Our collective mortal frailties are also felt on lead single ‘Richard E Grant’. With a trademark bittersweetness, a track that begins as an appreciation of the actor’s humorous social media presence unfolds as a study on “finding healthy coping strategies to deal with loss.”. Elsewhere, ‘At The Lake’ - to the tune of mournful, folk-like balladry - explores binge-drinking culture and the troubled association between unhealthy behaviour and creativity. The listener is left in no mind as to the meaning behind the references to James Joyce and Janis Jopin as “souvenirs stolen from the dark”.

With themes as weighty as these strewn across the album’s 10 tracks, It seemed like a particularly astute move then for the band to personally approach Ben Woods, founder of the Golden Dregs, to assist on production duties. Not only would the delicate intimacies of Woods’ main project - see 2023’s On Grace & Dignity for reference - add an appropriate moodiness, but Woods was also born and raised in Cornwall, where the album was recorded; amidst “eating pasties” and breaks by the sea, Woods and the band transformed the vaults underneath iconic Falmouth venue The Cornish Bank into a makeshift studio for a weeks’ worth of recording. Occasionally friends would drop by to lighten the load; Zander Sharp tracking violin on ’Double Island’ and ‘Flight’; Josh Law and Ben Sadler of Breakfast Records labelmates Getdown Services, both of whom contribute to the soul-stirring ‘mountain’ chorus on ‘Aberfan’.

When compared to the brightness of 2023’s The Noon and Midnight Manual, Woods’ influence on the record seems indisputable. On the aforementioned ‘At The Lake’, for instance, which features backing vocals from Woods. Or, most acutely, on the piano strains of harrowing closer ‘Bluff’, a track with such chilling, spectral severity as to effect the band’s most heartbreaking effort to date. While it’s particularly sombre note on which end proceedings, it's also an appropriate one: Langzamer bravely stands tall as their most restrained, matured, and sincere collection to date. And almost by virtue of its impeccable honesty, those moments of sunshine-joy that creep through the cracks feel that much more golden.

Features Unreleased Studio Sessions, Alternate Versions, Live Recordings, Rarities, And 36-Page Book With New Photos & An Extensive Conversation Between Joni & Cameron Crowe

Sourced From Original Stereo Reels, Nagra Film Recordings, Multi-track Tapes, Radio Airchecks & Cassette Tapes

Throughout the latter half of the seventies, Joni continued to creatively break ground with her fearless and fluid exploration of jazz. Rather than tread the same path, she challenged and reinvented her style with a folk fusion like no other. Ascending to an unrivaled sonic peak, this innovative sound took shape across the gold-certified HEJIRA 1976, the gold-certified double-LP DON JUAN’S RECKLESS DAUGHTER [1977], her collaboration with Charles Mingus entitled MINGUS [1979], and live album SHADOWS AND LIGHT [1980]. Channeling the thrill and excitement of these records, she delves even further into this season on JONI MITCHELL ARCHIVES, VOL. 4: THE ASYLUM YEARS (1976-1980), due October 4th.

Available as a 6CD, 4LP (featuring Joni's personal favorites from the 6CD set), and digitally, this comprehensive and essential set spans one of the most prolific periods of her storied career. It boasts powerful live tracks from her time in Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue during 1975 and 1976 Tour of the United States. It pulls back the curtain on the music by showcasing early recordings and alternate takes from the respective sessions for HEJIRA, DON JUAN’S RECKLESS DAUGHTER, and MINGUS. It covers the Bread & Roses Festival as well as the Anti-Nuclear Rally. Finally, VOL. 4 chronicles her 1979 tour, even showcasing two tracks from that year’s Tour Rehearsals. Not to mention, it showcases her versatility and adaptability, housing collaborations with everyone from Herbie Hancock and Jaco Pastorious to Wayne Shorter and Pat Metheny.

Vol. 4 culls the previously-unissued material from original stereo reels, cassette tapes, CD-Rs, and even a radio broadcast. Newly mixed tracks came from multi-track tapes, while a handful of hi-res digital tracks have been sourced from the Bob Dylan Archives.

Each version includes a book with never-before-seen photos and liner notes comprising a deep dive discussion between Mitchell and longtime friend Cameron Crowe. As part of their candid conversation, she shares intimate anecdotes, memories, and stories from that five-year creative run.

The sophomore effort from Gray/Smith refines their petroleum-based, hard-lullaby sound with a decidedly dusty precision. To call this pair's brand of country-rock détournement "cosmic" would be too breezy: L. Gray and Rob Smith prefer to stare into sunken depths, channeling their recondite affections for lay-by mauve zones and red-dirt guitar wanderings. Formed in the outer-edges of Kings and Richmond counties circa 2020, Gray/Smith is something of an East-Coast involution. L. Gray (guitar and vocals) and Rob Smith (drums, guitar and vocals) are both trusty veterans of "band's bands" like Pigeons (Soft Abuse), No-Neck Blues Band (Revenant, Locust), Rhyton (Thrill Jockey), and The Suntanama (Drag City), freewheeling groups known for mining from polyglot sources: rough-hewn folk and the spiritual avant-garde, bargain-bin hard rock and and collector's-choice psychedelia alike. On their first, self-released LP Gray/Smith, serendipitously recorded at Gary's Electric at the top of 2021, the pair trained their assured chops onto the great American song-form, honing a murky but tight approach that variously cribs "urban cowboy" and finger-picked primitivism. A string of cryptic appearances soon followed, including a short-lived residency at a now-shuttered vodka dive; a micro-tour with Coloradan songstress Josephine Foster; and a series of backyard and barroom gigs sharing stages with compatriots like Stella Kola, Blues Ambush, Samara Lubelski, and Wednesday Knudsen. Heels in the Aisle is the slipshod, burnt-out, mid-'70s unter-prog comedown to their debut's backwoods, bushy-tailed, early-'70s, country-rock meanderings_expect more unrestrained riffs, artful studio wizardry, and worn-down introspection. Joining the ranks of bloodshot-eyed, blues-rock medleys à la Canned Heat's "Parthenogenesis" and Grand Funk's "Into The Sun," "The SDSPS" is the nearly side-length opening cut, an expanded song-cycle condensing and riffing on the themes of their debut. "Help Me" ventriloquizes Pomona College outlaw Kris Kristofferson's slow-roaring ballad of libidinal woe. On the flip side, "Verrazano Tile" and the title track pay heed to lower bays of Staten Island, while their arrangement of the traditional Zimbabwean tune "Guabi Guabi" is a bright Dead/Feat-like jaunt with blissed-out wah-wah pay-off. "Gaslight Boulevard" is lean, mean, and eight-beers-in space rock, and the closing track "Kekule's Ring" is a slack-jawed, wistful crash back down to earth. All this, packaged in a luxe, expertly-printed sleeve photographed by downtown artist Lary 7 and designed by Eric Wrenn (Sophie's Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides).

The Ruins' eponymous EP (also known as the “gray record”) was originally released in the late spring of 1984 and in fact represents a significant moment in the Italian independent music scene of the early 1980s. The then contemporary burgeoning wave of entertainment music contaminated by experimental accents and conveyed essentially by electronic instruments saw the Ruins at the forefront. The band, essentially a duo, formed in Mestre (Venice) in 1978, had already carved out a window of national attention within the Italian new wave in 1981 with their first single “Short wave” and their participation in one of the very first (if not the very first) Italian new wave compilations entitled “Samples Only.”

Following this, between 1982 and 1983, there had been an important interlude in the evolution of the RUINS sound with the foundation of the quintet project (of which SPITTLE/DepenDance recently published an essential anthology titled “BRAIN FLAKES”). At the end of 1983, having concluded the group experience with the consequent and inevitable return to the original duo dimension the musical style further evolved putting even more emphasis on the unique blend of electronic sounds and almost black /soul influences of the new compositions that would later be collected in 1984 in the original version of E.P.

The duo's sound at that particular time was characterized by the innovative use of synthesizers and drum machines for unconventional song structures, which at the same time also encapsulated Ciranna and Pizzin's experimental ethos, thus allowing them to follow a parallel trajectory capable of maintaining a certain distance - while remaining somewhat related to - from the contemporary mainstream pop and the so-called ITALO disco strand.

Ultimately, this 1984 EP by the Ruins - of which Spittle DepenDance now offers a valuable reissue enriched with additional material from the period that has remained completely unreleased until now - is a testament to the band's innovative spirit and its role in shaping the Italian new wave scene, landing moreover to international acclaim and acclaim even over the following decades. With its mix of electronic experimentation and dark pop sensibility, it remains essential listening for fans of avant-garde pop music.

With THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE's third EP, the miracle is now complete, the trinity has come full circle, the triptych is complete, the church has fully handed over the Holy Spirit to its disciples. For this celebration, apostles such as Glow, Tyson and Elektra, as well as the church leaders of THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE themselves, come together again to celebrate a Dionysian Bachanal.

It starts with Glow's ‘Acid House Planet’, an epic-ambient call to the gods at the foot of the Acid House Olympus.

And the next track on the EP, ‘Coming Home’, a no less epic house tune that calls the children of faith home to the church with the vocoder voice of the gods, shows that they listen to their disciples.

‘Mitzubishi’ by Tyson celebrates the holy sacrament of acid painting in chords that melt on the tongue like a lollipop over a ritual beat.

This is followed by Elektra, which has already provided highlights on the previous EPs. And this time too, her hypnotic acid anthem worms its way deep into the ear canals and brains of the trance-listening worshippers.

Shortly before the end, the church leaders return to deliver an abstract breakbeat hymn with ‘Waves Ov Power’, which, surrounded by numerous sample memories of house history, sings of the pure power of the acid ecstasy techno religion.

Finally, THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE disciples are dismissed from the service with a powerful hymn of distorted bass drums, namely Random Noise Generator's ‘SM 58’ in the T.C.O.A.H. Schranz remix - a track that will give the inspired followers of the CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE enough strength to spread the happy acid message throughout the land.
Amen.

"Do you dream too?" Tomemitsu"s Martin Roark asks on his sophomore album with Friends of Friends Music. The question is also what stemmed from the album title, "Dream 2", a shorthand written in the lyrics. "Dream 2" is quite possibly Tomemitsu"s dreamiest LP, if not his most diverse. It is brimming with both new territory and nods to his past. This record reveals a more buoyant side to accompany his traditionally spaced out productions.