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The eccentric beat ambassador Alexander Skancke showcases his sound once more on his Quirk label, diving into spring with his debut LP, “Kingdom Couch”. The Norwegian has crafted a versatile yet cohesive body of work between 2020 and 2023, parallel to when he began attending sessions with a therapist. The 10 track double 12” traverses between meticulously arranged minimal moods, shuffling jazz rhythms and ethereal experimental textures. In its few years of existence Quirk has become a safe haven for a freedom of expression as Skancke and his affiliates share their wild side on the label, but the LP marks a milestone on the imprint and for Alexander himself whose lifelong dedication to sound has built towards this moment, utilising the vast influences has absorbed over the years.

“Therapy Session I” teases you into the LP, shimmering blissfully as it grows, blossoming into a dream-like world, tuning your ears for the trip you are about to encounter. Constructed upon slick jazzy drums is “Lost In Time” loosening your senses as the pulsating bass swallows up your train of thought. “Dumbo Move” blurs the lines perfectly between the atmospheres the Berlin based producer has captured within the album. Dark, mysterious and mind bending material in “Purple Lucy” a chugging sub heavy bass driving the track forward as precise beeps and bleeps whirr throughout. On a more playful note is the B2, “Extravagance” animated drum patterns converse with the elastic groove perfectly. Closing off the first vinyl is “Therapy Session II”, another extended exploration of otherworldly ambience, drifting deeper in the world of Quirk.

“The Magnificent Tree Hut” stirs consistently throughout, crisp percussion combined with the psychedelic vocal samples which continue to flash in and out. Transitioning now into “Therapy Session III” sophisticated sounds, enticed further into the full bodied experience by the storytelling sounds of a female voice. Your eyes begin to close and you wake up in a hazy club setting, immersed in the after hours; that’s the immediate impact of “New Dawn”, pensive and hypnotic as it rumbles quietly in the realms of the underground. At just over ten minutes long Alexander Skancke brings you down for landing with the final “Therapy Sessions IV”, transcending movements crammed full of raw emotion, floating you calmly
out of the seventh outing on the label, and the thriving talents finest work to date.

The “Kingdom Couch” is an amalgamation of Skancke’s undying passion and burning desire to create outside of the norm, this can be heard throughout this masterpiece and will undoubtedly inspire its listeners to search for the bigger picture.

Artwork: Johann 3000
Mastering: Mike Grinser, Manmade Mastering

Nachdem er in den späten Sechzigern als Frontmann des beliebten jamaikanischen Gesangstrios The Paragons eine Reihe von erfolgreichen Rocksteady-Singles aufgenommen hatte, wurde John Holt zu einem der beliebtesten jamaikanischen Solokünstler, der eine Reihe von Reggae-Hits für viele der führenden Plattenproduzenten der Insel produzierte.

Der internationale Durchbruch gelang ihm 1974 mit dem äußerst populären Album "1000 Volts of Holt", das raue Reggae-Rhythmen mit raffinierten Orchesterarrangements verband.

Der Höhepunkt des Albums war die Bearbeitung von Kris Kristofferssons Country-Hit "Help Me Make It Through The Night", der im darauf folgenden Jahr zu einem weltweiten Hit wurde und als Single Platz 6 der britischen Charts erreichte.
In den folgenden Jahren blieb Holt ein Gigant der Reggae-Szene mit weiteren Bestsellern und zahlreichen ausverkauften Shows auf der ganzen Welt.

Das Beste aus seinem Solowerk wurde auf dieser "Essential Artist"-Compilation zusammengestellt, der neuesten Veröffentlichung in der neu eingeführten Reihe von Trojan Records, die die Arbeit von Jamaikas beliebtesten Foundation-Künstlern vorstellt. Erhältlich als
28-Track-Doppel-Vinyl-LP und als umfassende 2CD-Compilation, veranschaulicht die Sammlung auf hervorragende Weise das Talent, das John Holt zu einem der beliebtesten und beständigsten Sänger der Reggae-Musik gemacht hat.

Asphalt Records second output is a forward thinking, hardcore continuum friendly take on the grittier side of industrial techno from Birmingham by the neighbourhood's new pestilent squathouse residents NeonDemon. This EP has its roots buried deep in seamless concrete foundations scaffolded by Mick Harris, via Surgeon & Regis inspired techno half-times, while pushing tech-step’s most asphyxiating soundscapes to sheer schizophrenia (i.e Guided by Whispers). The grime influxed club architectures (Pattern Down), the weightless demonic punk industrial attitude reminiscent of Throbbing Gristle (Pentastar) and the dark humor embedded in this 12’ (Pandeirada de Tella Remix) make Stains EP the perfect soundtrack for today’s apocalyptic contemporary events. Mastered as usual by Jason Goz at Transition, pressed in thick asphaltic 180g and wrapped in our usual pavement-black outer sleeve.

Flautist Johanna Orellana teams up with Carmen Villain for a collection of horizontal, pastoral field recordings and close mic-ed flute sounds that zero in on the instrument’s unstable resonance and levitational magic. There’s no cringe virtuoso business or fourth world firewalking here - just sonic purity, sublime minimalism and the precise capture of time, place and poetry.

You might have come across Johanna Orellana before if you’ve listened to Carmen Villain’s music (or seen her perform live), and Villain appears here in a producer’s role, using her engineering expertise to impart a level of restraint and sonic fidelity that’s quite startling. There are only really two central elements to the album: environmental recordings and flute. There’s no psychedelic delay, no cavernous reverb; no audible treatments at all - Orellana and Villain instead force us to consider the flute and its musical lineage.

‘El Jardín I’ introduces the instrument as a physical conduit; Orellana allows her breath to distort the sound - the padded pat pat of the keys forms a kind of rhythm, closely recorded so it’s amplified and jarring, linking to primal wind instruments like conch shells, bamboo flutes and wooden whistles. Recalling the way in which Debit interfaced with the ancient world using AI- assisted tech on last year’s ‘The Long Count’, Orellana uses a comparatively modern contemporary transverse flute, an instrument with roots that stretch back through the baroque era, into Medieval Europe, back to the Byzantine era and into Asia. The component that connects the instruments and eras is breath, and its amplification and modification through differently shaped pipes and vessels.

Orellana lets the environment sing: insects, rushing water and zephyr-like winds form a stage that presents her mortal energy, suggesting a harmony between our use of breath and its environmental ubiquitousness. Her technique is steeped in folk history and decouples itself from expectation by rooting itself in nature. It allows her to bridge the gap between equal temperament and less ordered (less commercially-focused) microtonality without overstating the concept. Other sounds waft in from the sidelines; what might be an Indian bansuri, stray notes, a gust of air.

There’s a link to the foundational new age recordings that Joanna Brouk made with Maggi Payne back in 1980, but Orelanna also absorbs the outdoor folk magic of Fonal or Stroom, and the improvisational grist of Bendik Giske or legendary US horn duo Nmperign.

Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the

Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”

Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of

imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”

Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”

“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.

It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.

A lost MPB gem from rural Finland! We Jazz presents the first ever reissue of this rare 1990 local release by Brazilian duo Rosanna & Zelia. 7" EP with inside out 3mm spine sleeve. RIYL: Gilberto Gil, Joyce, Musica Popular Brasileira, bossa nova, bossa jazz

Liner notes by Mikko Mattlar:

"Rosanna & Zélia were a Brazilian duo of singers and musicians Rosanna Guimarães Tavares and Zélia Nogueira da Fonseca. They moved from Minas Gerais, Brazil to Europe in 1988, released five albums in Germany between 1993–2004 and featured vocals on an Ian Pooley house track Coração Tambor before Rosanna died of cancer in 2006. Zélia still continues her career in Germany, touring actively and releasing new music.

The duo's journey from Brazil to Germany also included two brief visits to Finland. In the years 1989–1990, they spent time in the small town of Seinäjoki in Ostrobothnia. Rosanna & Zélia performed Brazilian music in Finnish clubs and festivals and recorded a 7" EP for local label Maumau Music. The record was distributed mostly in the Seinäjoki area, but the three songs are well-performed and authentic Brazilian MPB, so the largely unknown record now gets its first reissue for a wider audience on We Jazz Records.

But how did two Brazilian women find their way to a small Finnish town to record an EP? The main reason for this was music journalist and promoter Risto Vuorinen, who was on a holiday in Albufeira, Portugal, where a friend of his lived. The streets were almost empty that evening, but Vuorinen and his friend heard fine guitar playing and singing from a bar. There were Rosanna and Zélia performing on a small stage, and the two Finnish men happened to be the only customers. When the artists ended their performance, Vuorinen's friend, who spoke Portuguese, went to talk to them. Rosanna and Zélia told him they had recently come from Brazil and are trying to gain ground in Europe with their music.

Because Rosanna and Zélia didn't know where they would head next, and because Vuorinen liked their music, he thought of bringing the duo to his hometown, Seinäjoki. They immediately liked the idea, and in the autumn of 1989 they arrived in Finland. The national Finnish jazz festival was held in Seinäjoki, and Vuorinen thought Rosanna & Zélia's Brazilian music would fit right in. They performed at the festival and in November 1989, also made recordings in a local studio with backing musicians from Seinäjoki.

Music enthusiast Pertti Hakala had a record shop and label Maumau Music in Seinäjoki releasing music from local artists. He released a three-track EP from the sessions. with two tracks written by Rosanna & Zelia themselves and their cover version of Extra (Brazilian Reggae), written and originally performed by Gilberto Gil in 1983. A small pressing was made for the Finnish market, and Hakala also sent a box of records to Brazil, but for some reason it was sent back.

After their first visit to Finland, Rosanna & Zélia headed back to central Europe, but Vuorinen decided to organize more performances for them for the next summer. Maybe he also wanted to show them the beautiful Finnish summer, as Rosanna and Zélia had so far seen the country only during the darkest autumn. The duo came back to Finland for the summer of 1990 and performed at the Womad world music festival organized as a part of local Provinssirock. They also played in Nummirock and Puistoblues, both respected music festivals, and performed on TV in Helsinki.

Rosanna and Zélia lived in a small apartment in Seinäjoki and played two to three gigs per week all summer. Because there were only two of them, even small pubs could afford to book them, and in 1990 the economic situation in Finland was good. It was before a major economic depression hit the country. The duo travelled by bus or train, and because they were an acoustic duo, they could easily carry their instruments in public transport. Vuorinen got excellent feedback from organizers. Rosanna and Zélia were good performers, but also really nice people.

With the income from their summer gigs, Rosanna and Zélia could buy a PA mixer and other musical equipment. When the summer 1990 turned to autumn, they continued their journey from Seinäjoki to Germany where they settled down."

Staran Wake is a collaborative project by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen. After several years creating music in various groups together, followed by countless hazy late night recording sessions at each other’s studios and crisper afternoons producing the results, the British duo’s musical vision materialised with this self-titled instrumental album, taking nearly 4 years to complete.

This collection of pieces is composed with a wide range of instruments and combines multiple dark, experimental genres to form a rather lavish and unique proposition. It is imprinted with intense turgid textures, interweaving the hyper-tactile characteristics of analogue sound with field recording elements and sound effects.

Although the project’s name suggests a rather celestial concept (‘an’ means moon in one of the early protolanguages), the music actually explores the intimate feelings of transient space and otherness. It uses subtle build-ups of tension and repetitive progressions to shape an impression of distended time and space. More than a mere treat for the ears, it’s a multi-layered album that invites reflection.

All tracks composed, performed and recorded by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen at Dalston Studios, Space Studios and The Bunker, London, UK

Arranged, produced and mixed by Andrew Bunsell and Tom Relleen at The Bunker, London, UK

Mixed and mastered by Marta Salogni at Studio Zona, London, UK

Artwork and design by Jonas Meier

Orange Vinyl

»Love As Projection« is the new album by Frankie Rose, her fifth studio LP and second for Night School following the reissue of her interpretation of The Cure’s »Seventeen Seconds«. Frankie Rose has forged an enviable musical legacy, from playing with bands like Crystal Stilts and The Vivian Girls but on »Love As Projection« she takes a bold step into electronic pop production. A sumptuous recorded statement, it dances in ecstasy and broods on the tumult of the western world’s decay in equal proportion. At the heart of the album is glowing, confident songwriting, resplendent in hooks and choruses but still touched with an optimism undimmed.

After spending nearly two decades establishing herself across New York and Los Angeles independent music circles, Rose re-emerges after six years with a fresh form, aesthetic, and ethos. Celebrated over the years for her expansive approach to songwriting, lush atmospherics, and transcendent vocal melodies and harmonies, »Love As Projection« is a reintroduction of her established style through the lens of contemporary electronic pop. Recorded with producer Brandt Gassman and mixed with long-term collaborator Jorge Elbrecht this is the album Frankie Rose has been building up to her entire career.

More than a rebirth, a refinement, a resurgence, »Love As Projection« boasts a widescreen scope: a long- form project heavily considered for half of a decade, culminating in the most personal and accessible collection of art-pop that Frankie has ever written. When Rose aims for the pop jugular as in first lead track »Anything«, the result is unstoppable. A majestic pop song built for radio, it erupts into an irresistible chorus that marries classic epic 80s American pop with the cult effervescence of Strawberry Switchblade »It’s like a prom scene in a John Hughes movie. It’s a hopeful song about abandoning fear even if the world is quite literally on fire.. In the end, at least we have each other,« says Rose. »Sixteen Ways« further boasts a propulsive, massive chorus, though tempered by a cynicism built in global post-truth, global malaise. »It’s about getting your hopes up, but simultaneously making lists in your head about how it will never work out in your favour.«

The big anthems don’t let up there. On »DOA« some massive, rolling drums lathered in big mid-80s gated reverb dovetail with a syncopated baseline for the ages as Rose’s vocal sails effortlessly above. The effect isn’t unlike ethereal vocalists Clannad circa Howard’s Way or Enya jamming with Simple Minds in their stadium-conquering heyday. Rose tempers the adrenalin with heart-tugging bittersweet tones and there are plenty of them. »Sleeping Night And Day« takes its time with an off-the-cuff chorus, swirling around in harmony and chorus-bass. »Saltwater Girl« picks up the balladeering baton with another nod to album track-mode Switchblade, deep space opening up in the mid-tempo drum track and soupy, digital atmospherics. Album closer »Song For A Horse«, reimagines modern Pop production a-la-PC Music but shorn of the meta-atmosphere. Pianos, swelling synths, minor keys cut through with major. These moments, also seen in Feel Light offer ballast to the soaring pop choruses. Moments like these are big oceans of emotion to fall into before being led out by Rose into a bright new day.

»Love As Projection« is released in the USA by Slumberland.

Finally back on tape, officially reissued. Must have! 3 Feet High and Rising is the debut studio album by hip hop trio De La Soul and was released on March 3, 1989 It marked the first of three full- length collaborations with producer Prince Paul, which would become the critical and commercial peak of both parties. Critically, as well as commercially, the album was a success. It contains the singles, "Me Myself and I", "The Magic Number", "Buddy", and "Eye Know". The album title came from the Johnny Cash song "Five Feet High and Rising". It is listed on Rolling Stone's 200 Essential Rock Records and The Source's 100 Best Rap Albums. When Village Voice held its annual Pazz & Jop Critics Poll for 1989, 3 Feet High and Rising was ranked #1. It was also listed on the Rolling Stone's The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Released amid the 1989 boom in gangsta rap, which gravitated towards hardcore, confrontational, violent lyrics, De La Soul's uniquely positive style made them an oddity beginning with the first single, "Me, Myself and I". Their positivity meant many observers labeled them a 'hippie' group, based on their declaration of the 'D.A.I.S.Y. Age' (Da. Inner. Soul. Yall). Sampling artists as diverse as Hall & Oates, Steely Dan and The Turtles, 3 Feet High and Rising is often viewed as the stylistic beginning of 1990s alternative hip hop (and especially jazz rap).

There’s more than a hint of ambition on the double LP sophomore effort from Sam Austin Rabede, the producer known as DJ Black Low. Pretoria, South Africa-born and based, the young man makes amapiano with new ways of expressing this local turned-global style of dance music.

In DJ Black Low’s musical imagination, the songs manage to smoothly vacillate between dreamy and firmly-grounded. Adorned with vocalists across most of the twelve tracks, there’s a new dimension to Black Low’s now-signature approach to abstract, angular deconstruction of the rhythmic developments in his songs.

The album references influences and ambitions in its song titles and lyrics while the music itself is anthemic in its sonic and structural aspirations. On many of the songs a slow-burning tension transforms into something unexpected until you’re somewhere else as the track concludes. There is an emotional and compositional maturity that builds on his earlier work. Vocals and lyrics are in focus.

Production collaborators among Black Low’s Gauteng Province circle add to the constantly churning array of ideas that populate this consistently surprising release. Despite being a relative newcomer, DJ Black Low is onto something here.

You Can Can is an echoed affirmation, an album which traces song forms around silence, field recordings, and degraded analog memories. This is folk music transmogrified and mutated, as if recorded and reconstructed in Pierre Schaffer’s GRM studio.

Not your typical Mariposa folk duo, the group is comprised of Toronto avant-music scene stalwarts, vocalist Felicity Williams (Bernice, Bahamas) and bricolage artist and synthesist Andrew Zukerman (Fleshtone Aura, Badge Epoch). The album feels like a somnambulant conversation, fragmented and half-remembered with Williams’ vocals traveling through a landscape of field recordings and Zukerman’s saturated concrète topographies. It is an electro-acoustic assemblage, both analog and digital, comprised of air, electricity, minerals, wood, and water. Although the album nods towards traditional forms of folk and musique concrète (if at this point it can be called a traditional form), it is outwardly and inwardly contemporary; non-linear, citational, opaque, and sui generis. In a way it feels like a sonic index of the narrative experiments found on the infamous Language school-related publisher The Figures, in the work of Lyn Hejinian, Clark Coolidge, and Lydia Davis. In the musical continuum, the album picks up where Linda Perhacs left off in the early 70’s—explored by Gastr Del Sol in the ‘90s—a convergence of rural acoustic idioms and urban avant-electronics. This is country music for the discerning cosmopolitan citizen of the 21st Century.

RIYL: Luc Ferrari, Brannten Schnüre, William Basinski, Oval, Eric Chenaux, Emmanuelle Parrenin About Everything In Time and Failure Figures, Felicity Williams says:

Everything In Time is indebted to the language of Brazilian author Clarice Lispector (as translated by Alison Entrekin). Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, we trace the roots of melancholy to render them available to consciousness; words from the ghostly realm of the transpersonal filter through dreams and shine a beam of light onto a lone trillium in a forest at night. Other influences include the experience of not knowing, of being subject to a gestation outside of one’s control. This is an ode to the power of naming to obliterate, to set free.

Failure Figures is a meditation on the radical contingency of reality and the vicissitudes of the will. With Slavoj Zizek as my guide (think: “Hegel for dummies” - I’m the dummy in this scenario), I wander through the valley of the shadow of death, and take heart. The last verse refers to an experience I had recording at a studio in Brussels. I was singing in French, with which I have some fluency, and the producer was complaining to the artist whose song it was that my delivery was not convincing. Thinking I was out of ear shot, he said in French, “c’est comme elle n'est pas là”; I was pronouncing the words correctly, but I failed to express anything. So what or whom is responsible for conveying meaning, if not the form of the word itself? And if the connection between meaning and form is broken, how do we fix it?

Gratitude to Thom Gill (guitar) and Daniel Fortin (bass) who joined us on the recording of Failure Figures. Thanks as well to my old roommate Christopher Willes, who unwittingly left behind his hand bells deep in the hall closet. We unearthed them by accident, and the bells became an important sound element. Thanks to other past roomies Robin Dann and Claire Harvie, whose childhood piano and guitar respectively still reside with us, and were used in the recording. Field recordings were made in Toronto, Canada and Celestún, Mexico in 2020.

The next transmission from planet BRUK comes courtesy of Lårry, an enigmatic artist ploughing an individualist furrow through various fields of electronic expression, one hand tweaking the tiller and the other casually dismissing the rules of rave. You might have caught their sharply-pointed sound on Super Hexagon or Awkwardly Social, or perhaps stumbled across their fabled 2021 live performance from Fitzroy in Berlin, or even unconsciously swayed to something spun in a set any time over the past five years. Lårry's discography is modest but mighty, and How Was That For You builds into that idea with four
precise tools for forward-leaning soundsystem communion. From the fractalised barbs of electronica stepper 'In Water' to patiently dread-eyed wobbler 'Angela's Knife', 'Uniform Uninform's icy incisions to the snaking spiral staircase of 'Yargachin', this is brain fodder first and foremost, with bassweight impact threaded through as an added bonus. Keeping fine company amongst the other oddities inhabiting the Bruk mandate, Lårry continues to keep us on our toes, literally and figuratively.

Evocative and spooky contemporary prog. Meine U Teksi has absolutely nailed it to fetishist levels. It sounds like the synths were the only thing keeping the castle warm the night this was recorded.
The whole record it's made even more unnerving by the fact that the 4th track doesn't exist.

ENARCHY is the debut album by Leipzig-based producer and singer Maria die Ruhe. It is the result of a deep and thorough look the
artist took into both her own inner workings and the world around her. In 14 tracks, she explores different types of energy,
oscillating between head and heart. Final destination of this sometimes painful process of self- exploration is the embodiment of
her own power and creativity; the realization, that she manifests her role as catalyst, healer, and fighter for freedom and equality
by reporting on her experiences. These songs are about nothing less than that. And you can also dance to them.
In a musical sense, Maria surpasses herself compared to previous releases. She is bolder, more explorative and dissolves genre
boundaries. Acoustic instruments like the cello and the piano unite playfully with electronic beats. Her expressive voice speaks and
sings from the lowest lows to the loftiest heights. Her self-disclosing lyrics communicate the deepest messages of the soul. One can
tell right away: something is at stake here, this is about a real human living through something real, and now reporting from the
front lines of the human experience.
With lines like „Things are changing all the fucking time“ (ENARCHY) she posts a reminder for the current zeitgeist and the resulting
global uncertainty. „Some things need to be destroyed before they can heal“ is a demand for openness towards change, even if it is
challenging, requires energy, and leaves behind some scars.
In ART IS THE ONLY REAL TRANSLATION OF LIVING FOR ME, Maria uses sentences like „I’ve been trying to please you, I got headaches
and I still don’t fit“ to express her desperation with existing structures of injustice and the lack of livability of the artist lifestyle.
„Ah, you’re an artist - and what do you do professionally?“ Everyone loves music and art! When, o when, will the understanding
follow that there need to be people who make this art as a central part of their lives?
Frustration takes turns with hope and a growing acceptance of the self. In EQUALISTA, Maria discusses antiquated conditions like the
inequality between the sexes in a kind of manifesto, with a simple proposal for solution: „Let’s both be selfish and raise our
energies, to create a whole world with all the things we need.“
In WE BELONG TO NEVER, Maria sings about the everyday horror of toxic relationships. Lines like „Disengagement and rage, I’ve become such a slave.“ express the despair of the emptiness that results from a lack of affection. She also describes treacherous
narcissistic manipulation: „You cut me small just to feel tall.“
In SKIN, she confesses: „I’m not as enough as everyone else.“ and describes the long and painful way from rejecting her own body
to loving herself unconditionally. „I hate what I feel, while I pretend to be free“ means she doesn’t want to be reduced down to
her body, doesn’t want to be seen as an instagrammable, thoroughly designed product; she wants to be acknowledged as an
individual.
In LOST, she poses a question that many are currently forced to ask themselves: „What do we do with all this solitude?“ Maybe
making use of the reclusion by exploring the shadow self. „Can you cope with the truth?“
The conclusion: energy is being freed up through the means of self-experience and living through the personal darkness -
ENARCHY. The realization: every human being is self-determined and should simply do what they feel. It is everyone’s right to
choose their own life’s path. Here, intuition serves as a signpost. This is both feminine and strong.
ENARCHY celebrates an embodied anarchy by working through the personal shadow and the genuine, healthy integration of the
struggle survived - not as a destructive rebellion, but as a testament of shameless, joyful self-empowerment.
„In the end, I want to be alive, because in reality, I’m free.“