Suche:two thou

It's 2022. The world lockdown is finally over. Imagine a picturesque lake in Tuscany. Now imagine a floating state of the art studio on that lake with two maverick rock icons creating a wild, alchemical concept album: Hugo Race, frontman of Australian post-punk legends The Wreckery and guitarist for the Bad Seeds and leader of True Spirit and Fatalists, and Gianni 'Marok' Maroccolo, producer of Italian alternative music and film soundtracks since the 1980s Florence darkwave scene with Litfiba, CSI & CCCP. Together, they fuse an existential narrative made up of individual stories in the style of Boccaccio's Decameron with psychedelic soundscapes framed by experimental electronica, rock instrumentation and decades of experience as cutting edge musicians and studio producers to bring you an album that defies categorization - The Vigil… "We all knew the situation was inauspicious, the planets lined up overhead like a firing squad and this empty silence roaming around our town, cut off from the other mountain towns by an electrical blackout. Without power, there was no way of knowing what was happening anywhere else. Left alone with our thoughts until help came from outside, a group of us gathered around a blazing fire in the abandoned city hall, feeding it with documents and broken furniture. Scientific progress had long told us we were parcels of dumb atoms and that consciousness and the soul were merely human projections. Now science had failed itself..."

Steve Bicknell returns to KR3, once again unleashing his mastery of power electronics!
Following his two reinterpretations of last year's "JK Flesh Remixes" and four years after his solo EP "A Day In The Life" in 2021, Bicknell takes us deep into the realms of his sonic mysticism, marking a significant milestone in the fifth anniversary of the label.
Several Streams of Thought LP - is an unrelenting and immersive odyssey, presented through nine tracks, seven of which will be available on a double 12-inch vinyl, with two exclusive cuts in a limited 7-inch format.
The album hits hard, straight to the brain, with no warning, across sides A, B, and C. Each side is a raw, untamed techno experience, with Bicknell's unmistakable signature dominating throughout, delivering unwavering intensity and relentless impact.
However, on side D, a transformation takes place: a 15-minute soundscape that turns the embedded waves into breath - a blinding light emerging from the darkness. It's a moment of tribalism and evocative magic, offering a refreshing pause, a return to balance after the intensity of the shadows.
The 7-inch, available in a limited edition under the title "the eye of the invisible world", contains two tracks - one on side E and the other on side F.
The mystical sounds complete this dual experience: one part filled with dark, untamed energy, while the other brings a sense of mental lightness, emphasizing breathwork and emotional self-
healing.
S | B is back, stronger than ever!

“Underground” is a relative term. One could argue that all the ‘60s San Francisco psychedelic bands were underground, because the music they made was so far removed from the pop and rock sounds that came before them. But of all the bands in the scene, Lamb was perhaps the most underground of them all. It wasn’t just that their blend of rock, folk, classical, country, blues, and gospel was as hard to classify as any of the era. It was also their vibe. Along with classically trained guitarist and songwriting partner Bob Swanson, Barbara Mauritz’s versatile vocals paced material often imbued with a haunting, mystical aura. Yet they could also be earthy and rootsy, occasionally drifting into spacey psychedelia with hints of raga-rock. Released in the early ‘70s, Lamb’s first two albums, A Sign of Change and Cross Between, did indeed offer some of the most intriguing and eclectic music of any San Francisco rock band on the psychedelic scene. But Lamb’s history predated the release of those records by a good couple of years or so. So prolific were Mauritz and Swanson that quite a few of their original compositions didn’t make it onto their albums, though these were often on par with the songs that did find official release. Unlike many bands of the time who had a bounty of surplus quality tunes, Lamb often taped these in studios and studio-like rehearsal conditions, as well as making some professional tapes of their live performances. Fortunately, many of those tapes survive, including a good number of songs that didn’t find a place on their LPs, as well as substantially different versions of some that did. The best of these from the late 1960s find release for the first time on An Extension of Now: Unreleased Recordings 1968-1969. This collection not only rounds out our picture of one of San Francisco rock’s finest underappreciated acts, but also serves as a first-class document of Lamb as they made their transition from a more standard rock outfit to a group not easily comparable to any other in the region, or indeed any other anywhere. Our black vinyl and CD (with extra tracks, limited to 500) releases feature liner notes by Richie Unterberger drawn from an interview with Bob Swanson, who has also contributed photos and memorabilia from his private archive. Produced by noted Bay Area archivist Alec Palao…if you’re a fan of late-‘60s S.F. psych, you have to hear this!

Following a trio of quick sell out, limited lathe cut 45 to kick off 2025, Feral Child now embark on a stash of more widely available full lengths (from the likes of Lake Ruth, The Jonny Halifax Invocation and Polypores amongst others). First up is a wonderful follow up to 2023’s “Refrains” 10” EP from Swedish band TAPE. “Refrains” figured in 2 or 3 notable UK stores’ end of year polls, noticeably Monorail in Glasgow where Stephen Pastel gave it a top 3 for 2023 nomination. “Preludes” is -if anything- even more majestic and acts as a superb follow up. The record is released 11th April on Feral Child as one time pressing 10” vinyl only release, featuring beautiful artwork once more from Peter Liversidge and the calligraphic hand of Klas Augustsson. The return of Swedish trio Tape has been reassuringly slow motion. They’ve always moved at their own pace, these three peripatetic musicians – brothers Andreas and Johan Berthling, and companion Tomas Hallonsten – though it’s been over a decade since their last full-length, 2014’s Casino. Not a disappearing act, rather a break for consideration, time to explore other avenues of creativity, perhaps… But their reappearance, with the Refrains 10”, was one of 2023’s most encouraging moments; doubly so, as it was proof they’d not lost their way, at all, in the intervening nine years. The Tape modus operandi is one of deceptive simplicity and artful innocence. On Preludes, a typically right, one-word Tape title, this means five wordless songs that move between fully fleshed out, lovingly tended folk threnodies – the beautiful opener, “Lights Out”, that spins webs via simple, hypnotically repeating guitar – and textural conceits that hover, appealingly, in a kind of no-place. “Naukluft Plateau” is lovingly dappled, with ruminative piano adrift on a cascading tonal waterfall. Then, feather-fall strums of guitar meet huffing harmonium and electronic scrum on the brief “Golden Gain”. Is there a more perfect song title for Tape than “Tangential Thoughts”? It sums up the way their music, nimble and dainty but also carefully tended, lends itself to the reverie, the meander, the anfractuous. The madeleine-like power of this song’s two-chord figure allows the music to take flight: rustling organ, oscillating cymbal, droplets of percussion, a spinney of sound. And Preludes slips away “On The Accordeon Bus”: there’s something lovely about the way that title collapses transit, articulation and bellows, reflected in the see-sawing sway and glitch-like rivulets of sound that course through the song. So, Preludes, then – alive to the moment, both gentle and sturdy. A copse of tone, and a most gorgeous wool-gathering.

Spincycle records presents the second imprint on their label – a two track split EP from Neil E & Big City Bill on 180g heavyweight vinyl.

Bill and Neil met deep in the mountains 20 years ago.
With work drying up in the mountains, they tobogganed into the city to find their calling.

For years in dim garages, they studied with diligence strange hieroglyphs projected on the wall by the reflection of fluorescent lamps through emptied vessels.
At first, none of it made sense. All they knew was that it was important.

They began posting their findings online, and after a time of thinking they may have gone crazy, they began to receive anonymous messages: “Click here to join a guild of amazing artists: link redacted.”; “Follow me, and I’ll follow you back. Let’s grow together!”; “Do you want 10k+ follows? We can help!”
This was the encouragement they had been waiting so eagerly for. And so on they went. They joined a few guilds and continued to hone their practice, mining their depths, searching for that ineffable thing, whatever it was, wherever it was locked away.
After years of deep contemplation, the breaking of sacred tools, fiddling around, and the collection of various bevelled talismans, a revelation struck.

Two fantastic thoughts struck them both simultaneously.
These are those thoughts.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to, avant production. From being a member of Tianzhuo Chen"s performance-art series TRANCE, to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make "heavy music". Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats, and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution. Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig"s distinct and unified tastes as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the three have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.

»Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« is an introduction to the folk-pop world of Eddie Marcon. It follows in the footsteps of other collections of Japanese artists on Morr Music, such as yumbo, Andersens, and the »Minna Miteru« compilations. »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« draws together songs from Eddie Marcon’s twenty-two-year history, including fragile, yet rich in melody material, collected from a prodigious run of limited edition, self-released CD-Rs.

Eddie Marcon is the project of Eddie Corman and Jules Marcon, who met through their involvement in Japan’s underground music scene. Eddie was a member of noise-rock duo Coa, while both Eddie and Marcon were part of psych-rock collective LSD-March. Forming in 2001, Eddie Marcon’s sound is markedly different from these groups, though they do, at times, share a sense of psychedelic dislocation, through the gentle, limpid pace of their songs. But with Eddie Marcon, melody and gentleness is at the music’s core.

They’ve long marked out their own, unique territory within a worldwide community of psych-folk and folk-pop artists; sharing their music through a subterranean network of colleagues and friends, they count groups like The Pastels and The Notwist as their fans, and Eddie has collaborated with the likes of Shintaro Sakamoto, and Aki Tsuyuko (in Tondekebana, and with Marcon and Ippei Matsui in the quartet Wasurerogusa). Eddie Marcon have also recently worked with drummer Ikuro Takahashi, who’s played with groups such as Fushitsusha, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te.

Across the songs on »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, Eddie Marcon’s songs are performed by Eddie on guitar, organ and vocals, and Marcon on bass; they’re variously joined by Takahashi, Yojiro Tatekawa (drums), Tomoko Kageyama (vibraphone), Yasuhisa Mizutani (flute), Madoka Asakura (vocals), and Ztom Motoyama (pedal steel). The arrangements are pared back to best serve the core of each song, and the playing is gorgeous – fluent but not showy; capable of great intricacy, but aware that simplicity is key to direct communication.

Songs like »Mayonaka No Ongaku« stretch their limbs languidly, the music shivering with beauty as guitar and cymbal drift across Eddie’s poised vocal delivery. »Tora To Lion« began as an improvisation, but it’s become a firm favourite of the group’s fans: as Eddie says, »it has become a very important song for us, to the extent that it can be said to be our representative song.«

Perhaps the most moving thing about »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, though, is the way it captures the subtle yet significant moments of everydayness that ask for our attention. »Shoujo«, a song for a beloved cat who passed away, possesses rare emotional resonance. »At the end of the song,« Eddie remembers, »I wanted to have her throat rumbling endlessly.« When the song was cut, a television voice appeared behind the purring, saying ›thank you‹. »For us, it felt like words from Poco-chan, and tears came to our eyes.«

For their much anticipated second release 'Music From Memory' take you into the world of Italian musician Gigi Masin....TIP!
Part of only a small and very much underground music
scene in his hometown of Venice, Gigi Masin self released two modestly pressed LP's 'Wind' (1986) and 'Wind Collector' (1991) and appeared along side Charles Hayward for the Sub Rosa compilation LP "Les Nouvelles Musiques De Chambre Volume 2" (1988).

Having met with little commercial success in Italy at the time, Gigi Masin's solo albums remained for the most part totally unknown. His music has though in recent
years, and seemingly by pure word of mouth, developed almost something of a cult following.

Gigi Masin's uniquely intricate and at times deeply emotive compositions take the listener into a realm of contemplation, a spellbound mind state where time and space appear to dissolve. His sparse and hypnotic often loop-based compositions seem to draw parallels with Detroit Techno's earliest beginnings, all at once conjuring those same feelings of both melancholic longing and ecstatic joy.

Listen to This.” As the original working title for Bitches Brew, the instruction and invitation remains to this day as the best way to approach a record that shattered conventions, altered music history, and, 55 years later, still sounds far ahead of its time. The template for jazz fusion, Bitches Brew is rightly ranked by virtually every significant outlet among the 100 greatest albums ever made. Sewn together with vibrant colors, voodoo textures, and ethereal moods, the 1970 landmark emerges with supreme detail and nonpareil feeling on Mobile Fidelity’s UltraDisc One-Step 180g 33RPM 2LP vinyl set.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Sourced from the original master tapes, strictly limited to 5,000 numbered copies, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, this definitive-sounding 55th anniversary reissue enhances every element of a double album that established new possibilities for studio recording techniques. You’ll hear wide and deep soundstages, separation between instruments, and an extremely broad dynamic range. If ever a jazz album can be said to have gone to outer space and back, this is it.

Davis conceived Bitches Brew by having the musicians stand in a semi-circle. There, he pointed at them with vague directions for tempo, solos, and cues. The collective improvisation and interplay spawned a galaxy of melodies and grooves that were later spliced together by producer Ted Macero. Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor and superb groove definition of this pressing, these distinct creations take shape with utmost realism. Compositions stretch across jet-black backgrounds and paint canvases laden with millions of colors and shades. Juxtaposed percussion, loose jams, and melodic segues explode with impressionistic verve.

Bitches Brew also boasts visionary artwork. By design, the lavish packaging and gorgeous presentation of the UD1S Bitches Brew set call attention to such matters. Housed in a deluxe slipcase, it features special foil-stamped jackets and faithful-to-the-original graphics that illuminate the splendor of the recording. It is made for discerning listeners who desire to fully immerse themselves in everything surrounding the album, from the images to the tones. And this is one effort where every last detail matters.

Gathering a Hall of Fame-worthy lineup of musicians and tweaking it according to his desires, Davis follows through on his idea to “put together the greatest rock and roll band you ever heard.” Central to his proposition is the presence of two (and sometimes three) drummers and two bassists, a tactical move that makes rhythms a central focus. Akin to the futuristic album cover art, the drum-driven suites head toward distant universes and uncharted territories. At once hypnotizing and grooving, they chart maverick adventures via quixotic rock, funk, and R&B elements.

A without-a-net experiment involving interchangeable double-quintet lineups, Bitches Brew explores the previously unimaginable with electrified instruments — Fender Rhodes piano, processed trumpet, dissonant guitars, and bass among them — and an emphasis on feeling over composition. Mesmerizing and soothing, jarring and smooth, overt and subtle: The music seemingly covers an entire map of emotions and sensations, and like no record before, ties together the groundbreaking creativity of the multiple disciplines that were changing popular culture at the end of the 1960s and dawn of a new decade.

Conceptually, Davis described Bitches Brew as “a novel without words” and “an incredible journey of pain, joy, sorrow, hate, passion, and love.” The vast psychedelic expanses of warped echoes, liquid reverb, and tape loops confirm such ambitious contrasts of light and dark, fear and hope. Yet the most absolute characteristic of the watershed effort lies in how it resists definitive interpretation and encourages free thought — the very principles Davis used to conceive Bitches Brew.

More About Mobile Fidelity UltraDisc One-Step and Why It Is Superior
Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab’s UltraDisc One-Step (UD1S) technique bypasses generational losses inherent to the traditional three-step plating process by removing two steps: the production of father and mother plates, which are created to yield numerous stampers from each lacquer that is cut. For UD1S plating, stampers (also called “converts”) are made directly from the lacquers. Since each lacquer yields only one stamper, multiple lacquers need to be cut. Mobile Fidelity's UD1S process produces a final LP with the lowest-possible noise floor. The removal of two steps of the plating process also reveals musical details and dynamics that would otherwise be lost due to the standard multi-step process. With UD1S, every aspect of vinyl production is optimized to produce the best-sounding vinyl album available today.

Vilhelm Hasselgren is a Gothenburg-based producer and DJ with a focus on Jungle and productions that move between 160-170 bpm. Vilhelm focuses a lot on complex rhythms and ambient soundscapes and takes inspiration from both older and modern Jungle, as well as other electronic acts such as Basic Channel, Mala, Skee Mask and Arkajo. Vilhelm tries to create soundscapes that move between different musical starting points.
He has previously released on Rezonant Body, Canape Records, Bukva Sound and Of Paradise Records. Also has an upcoming EP releasing on Bukva as well as a V.A on Western Lore. In 2025, Vilhelm also has a residency at London-based Subtle Radio.

Vilhelms words:
Central Line EP is an EP that I'd myself consider to be my debut EP. The tracks were created within a two-and a half year span, with some tracks being re-worked and replaced. Later ending up with the final track-list, which I am very happy in how it ended up in the end. One of the tracks that were later added onto the EP being 1000 a co-production with my brother Einar (Local Arms), which we spontaneously recorded at our parents house over a weekend.

I mostly start from percussion, onto bass and later melody in my productions. The title track "Central Line" was started when I lived in Brighton for half a year, together with Theo Soderlund (Theomega). The Eski sample is a bit tricky one, but wanted to experiment with it, further I chopped an Amen and a Think break with an idea to create a pretty simple rhythm that could leave the riff to speak for itself. Even though the tracks were created within a pretty long span of time, I feel like they portray a sound that I want to further explore and produce at this point. Also Arcne adding a monster remix of Central Line that has been getting lot of love. Could not be happier to release it on Bukva Sound which prior releases I think really captivate a sound that has been really inspiring throughout the process.

Compiled by Bob Stanley to document the acid folk scene, “Gather In The Mushrooms” was first issued in 2004 on Sanctuary as a CD-only release; it proved popular enough for a sequel entitled “Early Morning Hush” two years later.

This new edition of “Gather In The Mushrooms” contains the cream of both long-deleted compilations with a few additions – COB, Roy Harper, Fotheringay – that weren’t available to Sanctuary at the time. Though they aren’t traditional, these songs have an authenticity of their own, an autumnal atmosphere and a naivety which proved influential in the 00s neo-folk boom (Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Alasdair Roberts, Tuung et al) but impossible to replicate. For many of these acts at the end of the 60s, folk music and the hippy world that surrounded them was a way of life, a way of opting out from the Vietnam war, Angry Brigade and three-day-week early 70s. Anne Briggs lived in a caravan in Suffolk, Shelagh McDonald lived in a tent, Vashti Bunyan eschewed electricity; they weren’t part-timers. Listening to “Gather In The Mushrooms”, we are transported to a time when no one used the term post-modernist.

It may not have resonated with dyed-in-the wool political folkies, but over five decades later this music sounds very evocative of an England of yore – not necessarily one of poachers and pedlars, but one of long-haired youths in tie-dye T-shirts, bikers and hippies, acoustic guitars played in white stone cottages. Groups such as Stone Angel, Midwinter and Oberon made primitive, privately recorded folk albums; today they sound as distant and mystical as the field recordings of Alan Lomax. The sincerity and folk knowledge of a group like Forest becomes irrelevant once you hear something as eerie and evocative as ‘Graveyard’. Home-made, homely, warm as soup or chilling as a hoar frost, this is music of innocence and rare beauty.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

On their second record as The Convenience, Like Cartoon Vampires, New Orleans multi-instrumentalists Nick Corson and Duncan Troast embrace a hypnotic physicality and collage-y, spur-of-the-moment approach to composition. The result is an avant-rock soundworld, peppered with spidery, atonal guitar work, pointy rhythms, and strident feedback, which may strike as a total reinvention following the sugary funk-pop of their 2021 debut album Accelerator. With their second LP, following their inspiration meant creating with their hands much more than buttons or switches. Sessions were characterized by gnarly, improvisational jams as they tinkered with everything from cassette loops, found sounds, and 808s. Tracks like "Target Offer" and "Fake the Feeling" quake with ear-splitting guitar feedback, while "Pray'r" and "Rats" eschew their groove worship in favor of haunting minimalism. Song after song, Accelerator's pop influences are traded in for more eccentric frontiers, with the clear common denominators of their first two records being the duo's spellbinding, funky instincts and a mastery of texture. Lyrically, Like Cartoon Vampires collects dispatches from a dying empire-characters are devoured by alienation and vanity, though society doesn't bat an eye. But make no mistake, these songs are not merely disaffected ennui-music-making and collaboration are intensely emotional practices for The Convenience, and they reflect a shrieking lust for life.

How does one approach the morning after a party for the end of the world? This is a question which Mamuthones had to ask themselves, in the wake of their last album for Rocket, 2018's Fear On The Corner. Nonetheless, from the aftermath of this uncertain period has risen the still more flourishing realm of From Word To Flesh - a colourful and multi-faceted creation very much befitting the outsider spirit of Rocket's new Black Hole imprint. “I believe that with this album a circle has been closed” reflects Mamuthones mainman Alessio Gastaldello. “We returned to the atmosphere of the first Mamuthones albums with the skills acquired throughout the journey, with new sounds and with new creative processes. I would say that what remains constant – and at the core of our music – is the obsessive rhythms and the search for a sonic rituality: this is for certain our trademark”. This is clear right from the curtain raiser 'Burn From Inside', which beams the emotive approach of the band through the shamanic prism of Coil's Ape Of Naples. From there, hypnotic repetition marries to abstract abrasion and mournful laments with equal finesse, as redolent of the spiritual zest of Popol Vuh and Ash Ra Tempel as the gnostic folk of Six Organs Of Admittance. Elsewhere, 'A Symmetry Of Faith' summons a union of post-punk and psychically charged folk aligned with the recent work of Bristol's Beak. The Sardinian ritual of the Mamuthones – in which sinister masked figures weighed down with cattle bells conduct a ceremonial procession to ward off evil forces - has gone on for some two thousand years, and it may be that these ghoulish avatars are engaged in a celebration of the endless cycles of death and rebirth, fortifying spirits for a new epoch. Amidst the chaos and tumult of the 2020s, the band of this name has undergone just such a change themselves, and ‘From Word To Flesh’ is the fruit of their struggle. As Alessio says “With this album I think the Mamuthones have never been so unmediated, so naked: all masks gone”

After a little vacation Wellness Records returns - straight out of the spa area onto the much missed dancefloor! During the break a lot has changed and developed, hence the sound of Wellness also discovered new nuances. With the two young talents Pük & Oward, it turned out wonderfully. The English Pük on the A side manages to pack a very own eclectic variation of breaks, minimal and electro into two sonically top balanced and driving tracks. Both "Double E" and "Get Well Soon" captivate with their clarity, their deepness and their inherently unique coherence.

French Oward, on the other hand, creates a wonderfully fun and light-footed contrast on the B side. With "I Need A Rocking Chair" and "Center Of The Universe" it's almost impossible to keep your feet still. This inevitable groove-attack throws thousandfold ideas and details in the right spots and creates two fantastically arranged dance tracks. We are so happy and proud to present Wellness IV to you!

Night Keeper is a collaborative album by New York City-based artist Aaron Landsman and former Swans guitarist Norman Westberg that is based on the former's eponymous play. Westberg recorded it together with performer Jehan O. Young for the Swiss Hallow Ground label, with Landsman serving as the record’s producer. The original piece was first performed in the Spring of 2023 at The Chocolate Factory Theater in Queens and filled the stark industrial space with spoken text, choreography, projections, and music in dim light and, occasionally, complete darkness. Westberg and Young afterwards brought it to the studio to record it as a two-part
album in whose course his textural sounds, based on loops and samples, set the stage for her soothing, sonorous vocal performance. »Night Keeper« is a performance inspired by sleeplessness and the wanderings of the human mind at night—about time and memory.
Westberg and Young elegantly capture its essence in these roughly 44 minutes with a somnambulic album, letting sound and meaning flow into each other. The initial spark for Night Keeper was a run of almost sleepless nights in different neighbourhoods of a city that is perpetually insomniac. Instead of trying to force himself to go back to sleep by any means necessary, Landsman started writing down his thoughts. As he explains in the liner notes—accompanying the music along with drawings made by audience members during the performances—he started listening to the particular way in which the voice in his head navigates time and language. Accordingly, the texts that Young reads on the record form a diverse collection of specific moments, imagining different speakers and evoking different
situations. Westberg complements, accentuates, and juxtaposes these with different means. Ominous drones, soaring melodies, rhythmic bass sounds: the guitarist, whose latest release for Hallow Ground was 2021’s First Man In The Moon with Polish double bassist Jacek Mazurkiewicz, conjures up distinct sound worlds in which Young can let Landsman’s scenes unfold to gripping effect.
Landsman makes it clear that »Night Keeper« was intended as an invitation to »stay up, look out the window, let what’s happening outside spark reveries or predictions« or even take it on a stroll through the neighbourhood—at night, of course. Much like the original piece, this album is then one dedicated to wandering around, both mentally and physically.

Originally released on CD only – those were the days – “Triola im Fünftonraum“ counts as one of the most iconic albums of the early Kompakt era. Experience this timeless masterpiece of lush electronica lovingly restored and remastered for the first time on vinyl – 21 years after its inception.

We found this review from back in the days that perfectly sums up what “Triola im Fünftonraum” is all about:

The press material for “Triola im Fünftonraum” made allusions to home listening, when the album is mostly about movement… in a car …preferably a fast one … on a muggy spring day.

This might catch followers of producer Jörg Burger off guard. Up until this point, the producer’s Triola tracks – limited to three consecutive appearances on Kompakt’s yearly Pop Ambient series and a spot on “Leichtes Hören Teil 1” – were free-floating ambient washouts (albeit wondrous free-floating ambient washouts) with no pulse. The album, on the other hand, is beat-driven. Though still resolutely ambient – more an update of Burger’s lushest Bionaut tracks, only fully engaging instead of mildly diverting.

The soft, synthetic hand drums and tranquil vapors of “Leuchtturm” from Pop Ambient 2003, remain untouched and begin the album. Two other tracks that might sound familiar receive dynamic overhauls, now supported with quick dance rhythms and additional layers of synth gauze; the whispy flute trills and lightly flickering keys of “AG Penthouse”, for instance, are melted into a churning rhythm and some singing keyboard vamps that resemble a relaxed take on Tangerine Dream’s suspenseful soundtrack work for “Thief” (minus the crazy guitars).

What really makes the whole thing glow is the manner in which the tracks are attached, flowing in and out of another, rising and cresting and receding, with supreme poise – even if its title provides no indication, the album is as much a travelogue as Carl Craig’s “Landcruising”, Morgan Geist’s “Driving Memoirs” and Model 500’s “Deep Space”.

These are some of Burger’s most inventive productions, a remarkable feat since he’s been doing this so long. Catch yourself in the right frame of mind and you’ll wonder if everything he has released has been one extended ramp-up to this. In this age, it’s also refreshing to have a purely ambient techno album with absolutely no connection to “Boards of Canada”.

In other words, it’s a landmark for both its label and its genre.

Andy Kellman

Copyright 2025 TiVo Corporation
Ursprünglich nur auf CD veröffentlicht – das waren noch Zeiten – zählt „Triola im Fünftonraum“ zu den ikonischsten Alben der frühen Kompakt-Ära. Dieses zeitlose Meisterwerk schwelgerischer Electronica erscheint nun 21 Jahre nach seiner Entstehung erstmals liebevoll restauriert und remastered auf Vinyl.

Wir haben diese zeitgenössische Rezension gefunden, die perfekt zusammenfasst, worum es bei „Triola im Fünftonraum“ geht:

Das Pressematerial für „Triola im Fünftonraum“ spielt auf das Zuhören zu Hause an, obwohl es in dem Album hauptsächlich um Bewegung geht … in einem Auto … vorzugsweise einem schnellen … an einem schwülen Frühlingstag.

Das könnte die Fans des Produzenten Jörg Burger überraschen. Bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt waren die Triola-Tracks des Produzenten – beschränkt auf drei aufeinanderfolgende Auftritte in der jährlichen Pop-Ambient-Reihe von Kompakt und einen Platz auf „Leichtes Hören Teil 1“ – frei schwebende Ambient-Auswaschungen (wenn auch wundersame frei schwebende Ambient-Auswaschungen) ohne Puls. Das Album hingegen ist beatgetrieben, obwohl es immer noch entschieden Ambient ist – eher eine Aktualisierung von Burgers üppigsten Bionaut-Tracks, nur dass es voll und ganz fesselt, statt nur leicht abzulenken.

Die sanften, synthetischen Handtrommeln und die ruhigen Dämpfe von „Leuchtturm“ aus Pop Ambient 2003 bleiben unangetastet und bilden den Auftakt des Albums. Zwei weitere Stücke, die einem bekannt vorkommen könnten, erhalten eine dynamische Überarbeitung, die nun von schnellen Tanzrhythmen und zusätzlichen Schichten von Synthesizer-Gaze unterstützt wird; die flüsternden Flötentöne und leicht flackernden Tasten von „AG Penthouse“ zum Beispiel verschmelzen zu einem aufgewühlten Rhythmus und einigen singenden Keyboard-Vamps, die an eine entspannte Version des spannenden Soundtracks von Tangerine Dream erinnern, der für „Thief“ (ohne die verrückten Gitarren) verwendet wird.

Was das Ganze wirklich zum Leuchten bringt, ist die Art und Weise, wie die Tracks miteinander verbunden sind, wie sie ineinander fließen, ansteigen und ihren Höhepunkt erreichen und wieder abklingen, und das mit höchster Gelassenheit – auch wenn der Titel nichts darauf hindeutet, ist das Album ebenso ein Reisebericht wie Carl Craigs „Landcruising“, Morgan Geists „Driving Memoirs“ und Model 500s „Deep Space“.

Dies sind einige von Burgers einfallsreichsten Produktionen, eine bemerkenswerte Leistung, wenn man bedenkt, wie lange er schon dabei ist. Wenn man sich in die richtige Stimmung versetzt, fragt man sich, ob alles, was er bisher veröffentlicht hat, eine einzige Vorbereitung auf dieses Album war. In der heutigen Zeit ist es auch erfrischend, ein reines Ambient-Techno-Album zu hören, das absolut nichts mit „Boards of Canada“ zu tun hat.

Mit anderen Worten: Es ist ein Meilenstein für das Label und das Genre.

Andy Kellman

Copyright 2025 TiVo Corporation

180g audiophile vinyl reissue of guitarist John Abercrombie and pianist Andy LaVerne's 2003 duo album 'Timelines', which is appearing on vinyl for the frst time 40 years ago Bill Evans and Jim Hall recorded two brilliant duo albums called 'Intermodulations' and 'Undercurrent'. Andy Laverne and John Abercrombie whose collaboration dates back to the late 1960s have been inspired by the Evans- Hall recordings and have been experimenting with the format.

Andy LaVerne remarks, "Over the years we have collaborated as a duo many times in concerts, club dates, workshop sessions. I guess Bill and Jim set a wonderful example to us of what could be achieved by the piano/guitar instrumentation".

This album - with 8 of the 11 original tracks making the LP cut - though is neither recreation nor copying of the original material, is an evolution of the predecessors.

John Abercrombie: guitar
Andy Laverne: piano
Recorded September 2002

The No Fuss label has been busy of late and is now dropping the many fruits of their labours with several EPs landing in quick succession. The 13th outing is a various artists affair that features two cuts from Saison on the A-side, though it is a Ross Couch remix of 'The Riff' that opens up. It's feel-good house with nice dancing piano chords and a Balearic feel while 'Feel This' brings more summery chords and dusty drum loops for some open-air dancing fun. Vertigini then offers the 90s-tinged 'Box Of Pandora' and Mo'Cream closes out with the already classic 'I'm Sure.'

This debut release is a collaboration between two renowned Dutch labels, Zodiak Commune Records and Shipwrec, both with decades of rich history. This collaboration fused experimental electronics driven by Roland's TB 303's with IDM, electro, and jungle influences, aiming to provide thought-provoking music for both the dance floor and relaxed listening amid today's oversaturated dance music scene. Enter the Ghost Ship is the work of G303, a Zodiak Commune resident producer, stepping out of his hard acid comfort zone to explore a more emotional, dystopian, and sophisticated sound.

Every so often an album of such deceptive genius, of such aesthetic clarity, comes across our desk and transfixes us. Thought Leadership's III Of Pentacles is one such work of art. It's an instant classic and glides into the pantheon of timeless guitar-soul totems. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Thought Leadership has already garnered big support from such tastemakers as Ruf Dug, Jason Boardman, Nathan Gregory Wilkins, J Walk, Evan Woodward, Justin Robertson and Heavenly's Jeff Barrett. The first time we heard III Of Pentacles, we nearly wept at the thought that something so beautiful, so bursting with real hope, could even exist in this brutal world. To quote the Quietus, "imagine if Stockport was situated somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway rather than the M60, and you’ll have some idea of the coordinates to the post-industrial, sunburnt dream space opened up here."

So, who is Thought Leadership? What do we know about them? They reside in Stockport and are obsessed with ethereal guitar records. That’s about it. That and these X ideas shared with you, the listener.

Captured on a multitrack recorder in a terraced house in Stockport, this is as DIY as it gets. Glaringly obvious is a love for classic Factory and early 4AD. Perhaps it is the proximity to the River Mersey where the ideas arrived, and there being but three miles between where this and the Durutti Column’s classic “LC” was recorded, as the two operate across a familiar aural plain. Be it geographic or otherwise, limited by a true economy of means, namely guitar, pedals and drum machine, the fruit borne from these humble tools has been indelibly shaped by the perma-gloom that hangs low over the Manchester and Stockport environs.

Ushered in on 808 kicks, “I” opens the record as a beautiful Sketch for Stockport; a chiming maj7 chord dripping in chorus and delay sets us on our way. The Vini Reilly comparisons are unavoidable. “II” is all John McGeoch, with its trippy goth-psyche arpeggiated pattern cascading across the stereo image. Do those drums swing? But goths don’t swing?! They do here. We’re treated to a bit of crunch on the lead guitar part and some really lush reverb. We even step forth into shoegaze territory, albeit briefly, for the middle eight. “III”, a firm Be With favourite, continues the dreamy psyche leanings of the previous track, with an even bigger melody this time. We’re hearing The Teardrop Explodes on quaaludes here. A proto-dream pop cut soaked in melancholy. But watch out! The coda finds Johnny Marr has gotten into the ‘ludes and gatecrashed the final bars with some incredibly ignorant B minor pentatonic noodling.

“IV” ditches the drum machine for the first in a suite of three beatless electric guitar duets. The first of these semi-improvised rubato ideas is a striking departure from the earlier playful pieces, coming over emo and moody. Greyscale sulking for Stratocaster. Sign us up. “V” contains some really lyrical phrasing; a gorgeous conversation between two guitars. Real Stopfordian Primitive; meditative, crude, rain-soaked. We cycle through the same feels, then end on an alluring chord that breaks the pattern. Sometimes thoughts are like this. “VI” creeps in all plaintive, then a huge reverberating descending guitar line comes tumbling in like something off those classic Dif Juz 12”s. There’s some Maurice Deebank in there too, for sure, and the coda nods to early Meat Puppets.

“VII” rounds out the A Side, and succinctly presents a summary of all ideas explored thus far on our journey. The drum machine is back, this time with some wispy delay, before both guitars enter together playing interlocking lines. As we start, we end, with the delayed 808 guiding us out.

Opening Side B, “VIII” sees us embark on the other side of our journey as we slow down and space out. The drum machine is here, but the guitars are different now. Think Sensations Fix or Göttsching at his most peeled out. Drones, ambient drifts of broken chords and distorted lead lines all swirl round the mix. Side B is one for headphones for sure. “IX” is almost too exquisite for words. A New Age Mixolydian voyage through the cosmos. If you’re unmoved by the end you’ve probably got no pulse. We were left blunted ineffable by this one, such is the smudged elegance radiating from this idea. All hail the Thought Leader.

“X” is a full circle moment, and a fitting end. If you’ve not already elsewhere across the platter, you will be getting heavy Robin Guthrie vibes from this piece. Like the rest of Side B, this improvised jam sticks within a framework of related chords but the celestial energies channelled might invite us to wander “outside”, especially when the Tubescreamer is engaged.

RIYL Durutti Coulmn, Cocteau Twins, Dif Juz, Sensations Fix, Spike and adjacent guitar musicks – but, ultimately, this is just its own thing; such is the strength of ideas presented. "It’s good music to chill out to." (??)

Be With is honoured to present the first ever vinyl release of III Of Pentacles, carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francisco to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With. Its stark presentation befits the music contained within. They inform us that they shuffled their tarot deck to ask what the album should be called and the card you see on the cover popped out. The III Of Pentacles tarot card represents teamwork, shared vision and the ability to achieve goals through collaboration. We like to think Thought Leadership and Be With have nailed this one.

*180g virgin leaded vinyl in a deluxe textured heavy gatefold cover, with paste-on artwork and special anti-static innersleeve.* Note: The pressing is absolute on point!!!!

Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon with a beautifully recorded suite of songs and instrumentals.

" More than two decades since he blew minds with a suite of brilliant releases on Warp, Vincent Gallo returns to the world of music at long last in Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon, with the project’s full-length debut, “The Music of Butterfly”. A gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, while interweaving fascinating flirtations with minimalism and experimentalism, it’s a truly captivating piece of work that’s hard to get off the turntable after the first needle drop.

In the arts, the lines between genius and madness, as well as fact and fiction, often blur. Such, it seems, has always been the life of the artist, filmmaker, actor, musician, and composer Vincent Gallo. A cult figure and a member of various creative undergrounds for the better part of half a century, Gallo has courted controversy, ruffled feathers, and made some of the most singular statements to flirt at the outer edges of popular culture that can be called to mind. Arguably most well known for his work in film, during the late '90s and early 2000s - notably with his soundtrack for “Buffalo 66” and a suite of releases on Warp - Gallo became something of a sensation in the world of independent music for a visionary, incredibly unique and sensitive approach to sonority. For a time, the world was abuzz, waiting on bated breath for more, and yet time passed. Bar a few fragments, appearing here and there, almost nothing has been heard from Gallo, within the world of music, for more than 20 years. That is, until now, with the release of “The Music of Butterfly”, the debut full-length of Butterfly, his duo with Harper Simon: beautifully produced and issued by Family Friend Records - Gallo’s own label, founded in 1981 - in a deluxe edition that simply left us speechless: 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve. More or less picking up from where we last encountered him, spinning captivating melodies and gentle song-craft within the quieter temperaments of DIY, left-field pop, once again, and at long last, Vincent Gallo, encountered in an incredibly successful collaboration with Harper Simon as Butterfly, reminds us that he’s as much a force within the realm of music as he is within film. Not to be missed. This one isn’t going to sit around for long.

Vincent Gallo’s biography reads like the stuff of blaring beauty: a figure of moderate fame in his own right, who has remained at the centre of cultural ferment as the decades have rolled by. Born in 1961, in Buffalo, New York, as the story goes he ran away to New York City at the age of 16 and fell into the brewing counterculture of the Downtown scene, William Burroughs and John Giorno, in addition to the cream of his own peers, and began making paintings, music, and experimenting with film. In addition to being a member of the now legendary band Gray, with the artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the filmmaker, Michael Holman, Gallo appeared in the cult 1981 film “Downtown 81”, before slowly beginning a career as an actor and catching the eye of Claire Denis, who brought his talents into the broader cultural gaze. Catapulted into the public by his own subsequent career as a filmmaker with “Buffalo '66” (1998) and “The Brown Bunny” (2003), both of which were marked by controversy and praise, Gallo further captivated the public with a partially brilliant, if not relatively brief, flurry of activity in the realms of music.

While Gallo had already been making music for roughly two decades at the time of his release of the “Brown Bunny” soundtrack, and the four release issued by Warp in rapid succession between 2001 and 2002 - “When”, “Honey Bunny”, “So Sad”, and “Recordings of Music for Film” - the almost fanatical fandom reached a fever pitch at the moment, allowing him, for some, to be regarded as much, if not more, as a musical artist than an actor and filmmaker. Anyway you cut it, in a few short years, he proved himself to be a polymath of rare talent. Somewhere along the way, while both were working as members of Yoko Ono's Plastic One Band, Gallo met the New York based, highly regarded singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer, Harper Simon, who also happens to be the son of Paul Simon. The pair fell into an incredibly fruitful duo collaboration, which came to be called Butterfly, and “The Music of Butterfly” being their debut full-length release.

Written, performed, and recorded by Vincent Gallo and Harper Simon in New York City between the winter of 2018 and the spring of 2019, the ten tracks comprising “The Music of Butterfly” are cumulatively a gesture of gentle, DIY / bedroom left-field pop, falling within the rough territory for which Gallo became renowned during the late '90s and early 2000s, making one feel like barely a moment had passed since we’d encountered his graceful hand at song-craft. Stripped back and raw, while retaining a sense of warmth and intimacy, across the length of “The Music of Butterfly” the duo of Gallo and Simon weave something completely captivating at the juncture of minimalism, experimentalism, and pop: meandering moments of texture and tone, slowly forming toward flirtations of melody that flower into song and back again. Somehow playful and light, while also remarkably emotive and personal, it’s almost as though each of these tracks crystallised out the air, unlabored and exactly as they should be without a note or beat more.

An engrossing immersion into both Gallo and Simon’s remarkably accomplished minds, having followed the path toward one another after radically different experiences and careers, “The Music of Butterfly” is one of those records that’ll be hard to get off the turntable after that first needle drop, and rarely leave the listening pile for some time to come. Issued by Family Friend Records in a beautiful deluxe edition that is unmatched even among the most stunning recent productions we can call to mind - 180g vinyl in textured heavy gatefold cover with paste-on artwork and thick anti-static innersleeve - it’s lovely to have Gallo back in the musical mix after so many years. "

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.

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.

Almost as soon as Σtella Chronopoulou began writing Adagio, her fifth album as Σtella, she knew the time had finally come to sing in Greek, her native tongue. It would be a first. She started the record almost by accident in 2019, during an 11-hour boat ride to the island of Anafi. Σtella had recently gone through a patch of personal turmoil and needed a break from home. On the ferry, she pulled out her cell phone as the boat clipped through the Mediterranean and began with a simple melody, steadily piecing together a rough instrumental. As psychedelic keyboards twinkled and swayed above staccato drums, the track suggested some deep exhalation, as if Σtella were letting go of long-unnecessary baggage. For a spell, she set the instrumental aside. She wasn’t ready yet, or in a rush. Σtella, after all, grew up in a slow place. During her youth in a relatively rural suburb of Athens, Greece, she and her friends played unfettered in empty streets, not worried about cars or permission, and living felt easy. But in the last decade life has steadily become busier for Σtella, now based in the heart of Athens. She has become one of modern Greece’s most popular musical exports, with three sophisticated, playful pop albums rendered with international élan. After her Sub Pop debut, Up and Away, in 2022, she catapulted beyond three million monthly Spotify listeners. That success was a blessing, but Σtella sometimes found herself pining for the slower pace of her youth. That longing is the thread that loosely binds together her fifth album, the entrancing Adagio. Borrowing its name from the term for music that’s meant to be played slowly, Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time. Written and recorded over the span of five years, with a consortium of international collaborators including !!!’s Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing, Adagio is a 27-minute meditation on love and desire, rest and time. Though the bulk of it is sung in English, Σtella delivers her first two songs in Greek here—“Omorfo Mou,” the one that began on the boat, and a cover of a 1969 cult classic of the Greek New Wave, Litsa Sakelariou’s “Ta Vimata.” It is a sign of the self-assurance that radiates throughout these tender and smitten little tunes. Start to finish, Σtella sounds more at ease and comfortable than she’s ever been on Adagio. These fetching songs will not slow her career or grant her that title track’s wish. But, for half an hour, Adagio adds a measure of warmth to the world, with time loosening its grip even if it doesn’t slow down.● Athens, Greece-based Σtella’s new album Adagio is a pop record that feels like a very warm blanket, its nylon-string guitars and featherlight percussion swaddling its listeners for three minutes at a time.● Features Rafael Cohen and British songwriter Gabriel Stebbing.• Σtella’s breakout hit “Charmed” from her 2022 album Up and Away has nearly 100 million streams, and was recently featured in the hit Max show Industry.• On Spotify, Σtella has 3.4 million followers, 66k monthly listeners.

During their short but prolific career, A2L released two albums & numerous EPs on labels such as 1st Bass / Big One and Force Inc between 1988 and 1990. This is a collection of early and rare underground British psychedelic house gems from 1989, blending the trippy, mind-expanding sounds of machine funk, new beat, industrial/ebm, samplers and turntables techniques, with the birth of acid house wonderlandand and captures the raw energy of the UK rave scene.



During their short but prolific career, A2L released two albums, one of which strangely landed on a South African label. They also dropped numerous EPs on labels such as 1st Bass / Big One (home to acts like Deskee, Longsy D, and King Bee) and the German label Force Inc (which hosted artists like Alec Empire, Porter Ricks, and Mike Ink), between 1988 and 1990.

While Acid House is synonymous with the Roland 303, A2L is unlikely an acid house act. Instead, they stand as one of the finest examples of British psychedelic house music from the late 80s, falling between the likesof S-Express, Funtopia, Eon, and Acid Angels. With standout tracks like "Even Though It's Make Believe" and "Come On," A2L delivers infectious grooves over strobelight sample jams.

This here is a collection of early and rare underground British psychedelic house gems from 1989, blending the trippy, mind-expanding sounds of machine funk, new beat, industrial/ebm, samplers and turntables techniques, with the birth of acid house wonderlandand and captures the raw energy of the UK rave scene.


This is one testament to the creative freedom and experimental nature of that era.

For fans of the burgeoning British psychedelic and acid house scene.

If every significant artist has an underrated gem in its catalog, then Mirage is that album for Fleetwood Mac. An obvious return to relative simplicity after the dramatic tension of Rumours and experimental ambitions of Tusk, the 1982 album finds the band re-grouping after a brief hiatus and again climbing to the top of the charts. Extremely well-crafted, well-produced, and well-performed, the double-platinum effort distills the group’s hallmark strengths into a filler-free set that never runs short of addictive pop hooks or daft accents.

Sourced from the original analog master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton jacket, Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set presents Mirage in reference sound for the first time. The efforts co-producers/engineers Ken Caillat and Richard Dashut went to capture the splintered albeit formidable band can be heard with stunning accuracy, range, depth, and detail.

Though Rumours understandably gets a permanent spot in the audiophile hall of fame, the smooth, clear, and dynamic sonics on Mirage confirm that the record that stood as Fleetwood Mac’s last effort for five years deserves a place in the same vaunted arena. The presence and imaging of Mick Fleetwood’s percussion alone on this reissue might have you wondering how this slice of soft-rock bliss has gone under-noticed for decades. Other prized aural aspects — separation, definition, impact, tonal balance — are also here in spades.

Like much surrounding Fleetwood Mac in the 1980s, arriving at Mirage was not easy. Caillat searched for studios located outside of Los Angeles on a mission to change up the vibe of the band’s prior recording sessions. Everyone settled on Le Chateau in France, where relations between some members remained icy — and cooperation with the producers strained. Battles with exhaustion, bitterness, and addiction further informed the proceedings at the 18th century complex in the French countryside, where even communal meals were allegedly eaten in silence.

Inevitably, the feelings that co-producer Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, and company harbored — as well as the situations in which they found themselves — drifted into the songwriting. In its rapid ascent to rock-star royalty status, Fleetwood Mac drifted apart, embarked on solo pursuits, and found it was lonely at the top. Emptiness, the illusion of dreams, the longing for love, the want to escape to bygone times of innocence and happiness: Such themes inform a majority of the narratives. Even if the lyrics regularly take a back seat to easygoing arrangements that allow Mirage to come on like a refreshing breeze on a sunny summer afternoon.

Home to three Top 25 singles in the U.S. and having occupied the pole position of the Top 200 album charts for five weeks, Mirage rightfully resonated with the mainstream and attracted listeners on both sides of the pond. And how, via a smart blend of sugary melodies, warm harmonies, interlaced notes, nimble rhythms, taut structures, and passionate vocals. Not to mention the presence of what arguably remains Nicks’ signature song, the biographical “Gypsy,” a meditation on the loss of her close friend Robin Anderson that teems with majesty, mystery, and mysticism — and which gets an assist from Buckingham’s shaded tack piano and richly strummed guitar chords.

Its ranking as an all-time classic aside, that No. 12 hit has plenty of company when it comes to brilliant pop turns on Mirage. On the subject of Nicks, the raspy singer gets a little bit country on “That’s Alright.” Its clip-clopping pace and two-stepping progression complement subtle vocal swells that emerge during the final verse of a tune that is ostensibly about leaving but still conveys forgiveness and grace. And what would a Fleetwood Mac record be without Nicks drawing on the tools of the supernatural — cards, dreams, wolves, and the like — on the twirling “Straight Back.”

Despite the potency of Nicks’ primary contributions, Mirage seemingly unfolds as a tight competition between Buckingham and McVie — and one that ultimately ends in a draw. Buckingham’s salvos include the contagious “Can’t Go Back,” a yearning to time-travel back to the past that’s complete with hall-of-mirrors backing vocals; “Oh Diane,” out-of- left-field ear candy sweetened with hiccupped vocals and salt-and-pepper-shaken grooves; the chiming “Eyes of the World”; and “Empire State,” a delightfully fluttering track whose high-range vocals, lap harp notes, and ringing xylophones hint at the galaxies of sound that would erupt on Tango in the Night.

Then there’s McVie. As elegant, understated, and coolheaded as she’s ever been on record, she pours her heart out on cuts that revolve around her inevitable split with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. In the process, she punctuates Mirage with a characteristic not always associated with catchy pop music: emotional weight, and the sense of dreaded acceptance in the face of dreams deferred.

“I wish you were here/Holding me tight,” McVie sings over a delicate melody on the album-closing piano ballad “Wish You Were Here.” Though they hoped otherwise, for the members Fleetwood Mac, distance and separation were always close at hand. Believing otherwise, inviting nostalgia, and pretending everything was fine only amounts to a mirage.

The 2 Tone sound was a great period in the aftermath of Punk and included influences taken from Jamaican Ska.

Mal-One had already worked on some Two Tone collages and had them put aside for some future project. He thought it would be fun to record some tracks related to these images and sounds. The first track he recorded was an instrumental track in the style of Harry J All Stars ‘Liquidator’ which he called ‘Rude Boy Shuffle’. Initially to be put out as a stand alone track on some reggae label of some sort. He had a poem already which he called ‘Two Tone Story’, so put that on top of the ‘Ska Train Is Back In Town’ rhythm which he had put together for another song of that name. Finally ‘Rude Boys and Rude Girls Listen Up! ‘came together.

Adding to this a couple of dub mixes and we have a 6 track 12”. Mal-One thought the artwork worked better on a 12” format.

Hope you enjoy the outcome.

'Through Today' is the sophomore album for rising Australian band Chimers. A husband / wife duo comprising life partners Padraic Skehan (vocals / guitar) and Binx (drums / vocals). Recorded by Jono Boulet (Party Dozen) over two days at Stranded Studios, Wollongong and mixed at Boulet’s Sydney home studio, produced by the band and veteran manager / promoter / producer Tim Pittman (Feel Presents), 'Through Today' features ten tracks of tightly-coiled intensity that barely lets up for all of its 34 mins. In enlisting Boulet, the band were confident that due to his own experience of being one half of Party Dozen, they had someone who understood the confines of working within the structure of a two-piece but also the possibilities that creates. Boulet, in turn, rewarding that trust by capturing a powerful bedrock of sound that allowed the band's taught rhythms to circle and permeate and yet give full breathing space for the melody within. For Pittman’s part, having a third ear on hand to devote serious listening time and critical commentary was an added bonus. It’s a major step forward from the band’s 2021 self-titled debut. A twelve track effort that snuck out during covid and only hinted at the power within. "Our debut felt more like just trying to capture the songs we had at the time, we weren’t sure if we’d even release it or if it would be our only album" "This time around we were intent on capturing the energy and intensity of our live show on the recording but with a more produced sound than self-titled. We worked more on song structure previous to the sessions. We rehearsed a lot playing quietly so we could actually talk to each other whilst playing the song and iron out any kinks.” “Jono turned the whole live room into a drum room, mics everywhere. The guitar amps were situated outside to prevent too much spill but still recorded live along with about half of the vocals. Second guitar and the rest of the vocals were recorded the next day. Jono was super quick and had the same work ethic and mindset, get in, get it done. If the first take was good enough, move on.” - Padraic Lyrically Chimers maintain the intensity as they tackle the themes of love, life, death and relationships, distance from home (Padraic is Irish, moving to Australia in 2001) and the current political climate providing enough drama to fuel a forest fire. Guest musicians on the album include saxophonist Kirsty Tickle - also of Party Dozen - and violinist Jordan Ireland of The Middle East. Both of whom were invited in on short notice adding their respective parts in just 1-2 takes each without any prior knowledge of the material. Binx too showing added versatility contributing lead vocals to An Echo and sharing lead across 3AM, Generator and others. “Singing is not something that comes naturally to me, and it was at the last minute before we went into the studio that Padraic suggested I sing the lead in An Echo. Having very minimal musical instruments within the band I think having the two different vocals adds a nice dynamic to the record.” - Binx 'Through Today' is a great album. Solid and confident from the get go. No waste. No unnecessary fat. Should it be Chimers last it would remain a defining statement of originality and intent. But it’s not the last, it’s just the beginning. And there’s plenty more where that came from. BIO Like many good bands Chimers are a band born of isolation, not geographically though, via the pandemic. Irish born Padraic Skehan and his life partner Binx, formed the band in their Wollongong backyard during the initial lockdown of 2020. Veterans and drummers both of the ‘Gong’s vibrant garage-scene – The Pink Fits, The Drop Offs, Evol and more – Chimers is an altogether different beast, Padraic taking a giant leap forward by removing himself from the back-seat and assuming the role of driver; singing, playing guitar and writing the songs that would eventually become their 2021 self-titled debut album. It’s a sound and album that draws heavily on Skehan’s time as a youth in Ireland and the post-hardcore sounds of Dischord Records, Husker Du, The Wipers and which has seen the band find friends and favour in like-minds The Mark Of Cain, Henry Rollins, Guy Picciotto and Mudhoney. This is no mere nostalgia though, the band instead landing at the vanguard of a new generation of Sydney and surrounds bands – Body Type, Second Idol, Dust, Private Wives, R.M.F.C – borrowing from the past in order to create a future.

Two killer tracks of erotic psychedelia with a jazzy twist and touches of acid rock by the French cabaret star Rita and Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia. A perfect soundtrack to an imaginary sexploitation film, half-way between the classic sound of library records and a progressive and hypnotic musical journey driven by fuzzy guitars. French actress, model, dancer and singer Rita Cadillac, local star at well-known Parisian cabarets like Crazy Horse or Folies Bergère, recorded several 45s in the 1960s. In 1969, and most likely following the success of the Welsh band Man (from whom they "took inspiration" when recorded this 'Erotica'), released this song that could have easily worked as the perfect soundtrack for a sexploitation movie. Rita's sensual voice is wrapped in a piece of background music that could have been taken from a classic library record from the KPM, Chappell or Montparnasse 2000 catalogues. Hammond-driven prog jazzy passages, subtle fuzzy guitar solos and a contagious bassline all delivered by some anonymous studio band accompanied by Rita's provocative whispers and moans. This 7"-only rarity has been compiled many times over the years, but we thought it would be nice to have it reissued in its original format. What better than another song in a similar vein and identical title, 'Erotica' by Chilean rock pioneers Aguaturbia, to complete this single? Denise's alluring vocals dance harmoniously with Carlos' electrifying guitar loaded with fuzz and wah wah effects, building up a progressive and hypnotic musical journey. This song was included in their much sought-after debut LP and we present it here again as the perfect accompaniment to the sensual Rita.

2025 cassette edition, originally released in 2023 on 2CD/digital.

Recordings + booklet of the unveiling of »Katharina AW«, a relational artwork by Joris Martens. The unveiling event took place at St. Catharine’s Church in Hoogstraten - a city in the northeast of Belgium - on two Saturdays in May 2021.

While beholding the artwork, a woven tapestry, you listen to organ music by Miaux. Outside the church, you hear the carillon gurgle with music by Lieven Martens and town carillonneur Luc Dockx, prolonging the event into the public space.

Joris Martens created »Katharina AW« for the city hall of Hoogstraten. The tapestry now serves as an informal conversation starter in the conference room. Joris Martens is a multi-disciplinary artist and works in the field where applied arts and fine arts meet.

Miaux played her own compositions on the church organ. The songs appeared on the albums Black Space White Cloud, Hideaway, Dive and Gigi - released by Ultra Eczema, Lal Lal Lal, and Alien Passengers - and were originally written for electronic keyboard. Mia demonstrates that the church organ, which is normally used as an underscore for sadness or compelling thoughts, is a fitting instrument of connection. Through its resonance, we communicate our sounds.

Lieven Martens invented sketches for the carillon—by loading bird sounds into the computer program Melodyne, varying them and converting them to musical notes. As a nod to the religion crazy Olivier Messiaen, who considered the birds to be God’s chosen singers and songstresses. The trifles were translated on the carillon by town carillonneur Luc Dockx. The playing comes into and out of focus. In this way, Lieven creates a dreamscape and breaks with the dreary carillon as an instrument of power.

Luc Dockx studied church music at the Lemmens Institute in Leuven and the carillon at the Royal Carillon School in Mechelen. He is the city carillonneur of Hoogstraten since 2002. Dockx is an active practitioner of the art of improvisation on the carillon.

Black Fairy is a fairy tale, but not in the traditional sense. When writing this play, i did not want to re-create the types of fantasies which are so common in Childrens theater. There is no kind of magic that can relieve black children from the oppression that retards their development. However, i do feel giving them a better understanding of their heritage can help them achieve their true potential. And those of us who are concerned with their development should try to expose them to knowledge that gives them a positive sense of identity. Although i do feel a chldren's play should be entertaining, I also feel it should be educational. Also, because there are so few children's plays which reflect the black experience, I wanted to write a play that Black children could identify with.

"Black Fairy" is a musical drama about a black fairy who lacks pride in herself and feels she has to offer Black children. But when she meets Black Bird and Queen Mother (Who take her to ancient Egypt, East Afrika, a southern slave plantation and the streets of Harlem) she begins toget a better understanding of her heritage. Her journey through the past enables Black Fairy to meet Aesop, Brer Rabbit, Brer Fox, Uncle Remus, Stag-o-lee, Leadbelly and many other characters in Black folklore and Black history. At the end of her journey, Black fairy realizes that "Being Black is nothing to be ashamed of" and is then able to share her knowledge with other Black children. Even though Black Fairy doesn't completely resolve her dilemma, having a knowledge of her heritage does give her more confidence to cope with the future.

During ther summer of 1974 "Black Fairy" was performed for over four thousand children in Chicago. And, in April of 1975, it played to over two thousand children in Detroit at Mercy College.

"Black Fairy" is the only the first of many children's plays we hope to produce at the Better Boys Foundation. There is an Afrikan proverb which says: "Children are the reward of life". We at Better Boys Foundationm are dedicated to this belief, and feel that helping childrren to appreciate their heritage is one means of showing our concern for their development.

TYRON is a tale of two halves exposing human complexity. Just as with the narrative of his own life, there are always two sides to every story. Side one re-introduces us to the classic hubris, machismo, and braggadocio typical of rap music. Side two takes what you thought you knew about slowthai and flips on its head. ‘feel away’ and ‘nhs’ go some way to dip a toe inside the complexities of his mind but delve deeper and you’ll be left with a clearer understanding of who he truly is. Honesty is paramount as ultimately Ty wants listeners to know that “it’s ok to be yourself”.

TYRON was formed against the backdrop of an unforgiving climate where judgement, shaming and underdeveloped and simplistic conceptions of other people are fashionable. Instead of succumbing to such simplicity, TYRON presents an artist who is unabashedly complicated and willing to explore themes of loneliness, identity, self-acceptance, and the difficulties in becoming an individual. Unlike the political overtone of slowthai’s debut album ‘Nothing Great About Britain’ which took listeners on a journey through slowthai’s turbulent upbringing and his stance on British life – this self-titled follow up, TYRON is a melodic dive through the expansive landscape of his feelings. His ability to bear his imperfections and contradictions makes TYRON an album that is the antithesis of a culture of purity. A resistance to the rising tide of moral one-upmanship and the pervasive self-righteousness that blinds us to our own fallibility.

Repress on Limited Crystal Clear Vinyl and Black Vinyl to coincide with new album ‘Daylight’ release

The album was recorded at the top of an East London tower block, mixed in a beach hut on Camber Sands and gilded by Bollywood strings is already setting its sights hide and wide, but when the sound and vision encompasses panoramic electronic soul laced with a viscerally personal reaction to the mad times we’re living through, we’re in the presence of something special

Our two British protagonists are Sean Dickson, a former indie star who reinvented himself as an electronic adventurist - musician, DJ, producer – whose last album Ft. featured a stellar line-up of guest vocalists, including Yoko Ono, Fred Schneider (B- 52’s), Alan Vega, Crystal Waters (fronting ‘Testify’, which topped the US Billboard dance chart) and David McAlmont - the last, a thrilling singing sensation with an illustrious history, from indie-soul pioneers Thieves and the legendary McAlmont & Butler to purer soul and jazz recordings and a striking collaboration with minimalist composer Michael Nyman.

Cross Record's new album, Crush Me, is steeped in the pressures and wonders of existence—a profound statement, especially coming from artist and death doula Emily Cross. A two-and-a-half-year gestation period offered challenges, disappointments, and joys reflected in the cramped space of the album, which explores how we handle the weights we carry. Emily Cross had held hundreds of Living Funerals and was as many episodes deep into her podcast, What I’m Looking At. She was five years into serving clients as a death doula and fresh off a tour with Loma, her band with Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater) and Dan Duszynski, when she began work on her fourth album. After moving from Austin, TX to Dorset, UK, she established the Steady Waves Center for Contemplation (named after a track from her second record, Wabi-Sabi ), where she hosted Living Funerals, met clients, scheduled mindful tea sessions, and showcased experimental music nights. All the while, she was scribbling down song ideas. Cross’s Tascam four-track demos finally reached readiness, and she sent them to an interested major independent label. She was encouraged to push her imagination to the limits of what a record could be. So, unlike her usual process of recording as inexpensively as possible, she prepared a two-week recording session in Germany with a group of skilled musicians from around the world. True to her previous work, Cross left plenty of room in her demos for experimentation, collaboration, chance, improvisation, and complete obliteration, then resurrection when necessary. Comfort and traditional structure were eschewed in favor of unaccountable magic, prayers whispered into The Void. Cross is comfortable with the chaotic and unpredictable, a perspective demanded by her work and writing style. The Berlin Airbnb was packed with people, instruments and luggage. During a ride down in a tiny elevator to the studio, Cross realized how central the sense of being crushed was to the album. “I thought of it later and it dawned on me that ‘Crush Me’ perfectly embodied the record,” says Cross. Yes, the weight of a body laying limply atop yours, or the tight squeeze of a hug, can be pleasant. Go too far, and you’re in the hands of a cruel, adolescent god. Upon leaving Germany, the record was unfinished, and without a roadmap. As passages were recorded as isolated parts, Cross and musician Marcin Sulewski collaborated, facing a haphazard brick pile, waiting to be assembled. Work dipped in and out of view like a buoy bobbing in a violent sea over many months. During that time, the aforementioned interested label went radio silent, suddenly not seeming so sure of a thing. Collaborators disappeared, continuing the themes of abandonment, surrender, and disarray that followed the project. Cross physically felt her entire body go numb: In a twist of fate, the record was rescued by long-time friend and supporter Ben Goldberg at Ba Da Bing Records who was eager to help realize the project. Cross worked for months on the album, all the while nursing a pregnancy and continuing her full-time funeral work. The last minute participation of Seth Manchester of Machines with Magnets, who mixed and mastered, was an essential liferaft. He gave true final form to the abstracted songs. Crush Me has the effect of a spell being cast, with songs balancing heaviness and levity. Vocals, guitars, and keyboards float above, as drums and upright bass (often bowed) lurch beneath. On “Rolling Backwards” percussion wanders about while feedback squeals and persists in the distance. “Dorset Area Of Natural Beauty” starts with a thick, unhinged church organ progression punctuated by the disquieting sounds of laughter reaching the point of hysteria. “God Fax” is a slow-moving panic attack, with shallow breaths in and out framing a guttural cacophony like a wooden freighter encountering increasingly turbulent waters and vocals struck emotionless by autotune. The album ends with “Twisted Up Fence,” a reflection on life from outside the wall--wistful, warm, and comforting. Cross, likely with a smile on her face, sings: “You say it’s an endless abyss” “And I say the abyss is the best”

Pharoahe Monch is one of the most revered and influential emcees in the history of hip-hop, and 2024 marks the 10th anniversary of his fourth studio album "PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder".

In PTSD, Pharoahe Monch continues the story he began telling in his previous LP, "W.A.R. (We Are Renegades)" from 2011. The Queens emcee narrates, in both literal and metaphoric ways, about the trials and tribulations of an independent artist who is at war with the music industry and the struggle of the black male experience in America.

In 2012, during an interview with Shawn Setaro, host of the podcast The Cipher, the rapper explained the connections between the two projects, beyond their titles. “The W.A.R. album was like, I’m going to battle against the machine, I’m doing this independently. I’m putting some things out that I learned and I’m going to expose about the music industry. PTSD is the result of me doing that, where I am emotionally now. It’s similar to how someone comes back from war and is stricken by re-adjusting to a regular situation.”

Monch told MTV Hive that PTSD is “more mental, emotional and personal” because it came out of the depths of a period of depression. He also gave the internal and external factors that helped him create the album. “I was working on the title track, which took me to a point in between Internal Affairs and Desire, where I was heavily depressed. Through the waiting period, the industry period, and going through a lot emotionally. Then there was the physical problem with asthma. It was the worst. So I started off with that title track and my manager was like, ‘Yo, let’s really dive into that state and how you got to where you are now, and how this follows what people go through to get back to a so-called ‘normal’ situation’.”

The concept album follows a veteran through combat experience, his return home, relationship dissolution, drug addiction, painful depression, and, finally, a triumphant but realistically rendered decision to keep living and struggling.

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.

Sagacious reggae lyricist Vaughn Benjamin’s words are particularly cutting during Sow And The Reap, the final recording of Vaughns immense catalog of works with I Grade Records. Produced by Zion I Kings, and taken from 2021’s album Polarities, Sow And The Reap folds topics of political dominance, mass migration, and injustice into a thought provokingly coherent whole. The song brims with Vaughn’s characteristic dual-meaning word-play, using evocative metaphors of nature and agriculture to illuminate global policy. Sow And The Reap’s timeless lyrical principles are matched by its inexorable reggae rhythm, featuring hefty programmed drums by Romain “Teflon Zincfence” Arnett, and sombre trombone and space age synth, both supplied by much missed multi-instrumentalist Drew Keys. Backed by its correspondingly haunting dub.

This series honours both the vocal and version culture of the reggae sound system and the profound lyricism of Vaughn Benjamin. We have consistently received two requests in relation to releasing the LPs: "Can we have dub versions?" and "Where can we read the lyrics?" Our response is the 'Akae Beka - vocal, version and word-sound collection.' Before Zero Records worked with Tippy I Grade to mix a series of dub mixes from a carefully curated selection of his extensive works with Vaughn Benjamin. The vocal and corresponding dub mixes were then cut to wax by Lewis Hopkin of Star Delta and wrapped in a collage made of Ras Marcus's artworks, which he crafted for various LP covers of Vaughn's works throughout the years with the lyrics transcribed and printed on the rear of each sleeve.

Repressed for the first time in 2 years, Note price change. Sermonizing Black Nationalism, Pan-Africanism and the benefits of a healthy and just lifestyle during the height of the Bad Boy/Roc-AFella era of nihilistic excess in the late 90's, Dead Prez also signed to a major label (Loud/Columbia) despite leaning much more towards the burgeoning indie aesthetics of the day. But this was a good thing – using major label muscle to wake up righteous hip-hop fans who might have fallen asleep at the wheel. The group itself – consisting of MCs stic.man and M-1, who produced or co-produced most of the duo’s music – was formed in Tallahassee, Florida in the early 1990's.

By later that decade, the duo had started making significant waves, having their music heard on the soundtracks to “Soul In The Hole” and “Slam,” as well as appearing on albums by Big Pun and The Beatnuts. By 1998, they released their first official single, the serious, stark “Police State,” on Loud, appropriately brought to the label by Lord Jamar of Brand Nubian. After building a solid rep over the next two years with fiery live performances, in 2000 they unleashed their debut album, Let’s Get Free.

The album was a welcome return to provocative and often radically political rhetoric that hearkened back to hip-hop forebears including The Coup, Public Enemy and KRS-One (as well as poetic descendants like the Last Poets and Watts Prophets). Let’s Get Free was critically acclaimed and benefited from multiple singles, including the infectious, thick analog drive of “Hip-Hop” “It’s Bigger Than Hip-Hop,” with a remix co-produced by a young Kanye West; “Mind Sex” (with Abiodun Oyewole of the Last Poets); and the poignant “I’m An African.”

But the singles weren’t the only worthy songs, as just about every cut here has deeper meaning than most full albums by their early 2000's peers. Highlights: the thought-provoking, anti-drug album opener “Wolves”; “We Want Freedom” “They Schools” and “Propaganda” . All in all, this is one of the more underrated and possibly Top 5 fully-realized political hip-hop albums of all time.