Cerca:two thou

Two Thou’s hybrid jazz act Oraculu debuts with a 12” in the realm of spiritual electronics, carrying the music touch of Berlin’s hottest jazz cats such as Monica Mussungo, Taymour Khajah, Ziggy Zeitgeist, El Congo Allen and Dylan Greene, plus a remix by Toribio, and a spoken blessing by Sonny Daze. Expect to oscillate.

This music was born in Berlin, matured with me through a winter in the rural Sardinia, and ended up on wax through Chicago and New York. With this record, that to me sounds in-between worlds, I want to recall that jazz and electronic music both emerged as inventions, and it seems to me they’re both suggesting us to keep inventing. (Two Thou)

Camp Trash ist das Ergebnis von zwei Freundschaften: 1. Friendship America, die kurzlebige Band aus Sarasota, die von den Brüdern Keegan und Levi Bradford und Bryan Gorman gegründet wurde, und 2. die jahrzehntelange Freundschaft und Zusammenarbeit beim Songwriting zwischen Keegan und Bryan. Nachdem Keegan Florida verlassen hatte, blieben er und Bryan in Kontakt, indem sie an Musik arbeiteten und sich Song-Demos per E-Mail schickten. Obwohl sie in verschiedenen Bundesstaaten lebten, beschlossen die drei Freunde, dass es Zeit war, mit den Songs, die sie geschrieben hatten, ein neues Projekt zu starten. Sie gründeten Camp Trash, ohne einen Plan zu haben, wie sie aufnehmen oder auf Tour gehen würden, nur mit einer Handvoll Songs und der Freude, gemeinsam mit Freunden etwas zu schaffen. Camp Trash unterschrieb 2020 bei Count Your Lucky Stars Records, veröffentlichte 2021 ihre Debüt-EP ,Downtiming" und 2022 ihr erstes Album ,The Long Way, The Slow Way". Ihr neues Album ,Two Hundred Thousand Dollars" wurde von James Palko aufgenommen, produziert und gemischt, von Zach Weeks bei God City Studios gemastert und enthält einen neuen Beitrag von Kyle Meggison (ehemals Worst Party Ever) am Schlagzeug. Die zweite LP der Band ist das Ergebnis jahrelanger Begeisterung für Fountains of Wayne und Guided by Voices und dem Wunsch, kurze, laute und eingängige Songs zu schreiben. Die Songs sind lose miteinander verbundene Charakterskizzen, die unglücklichen Betrügern, Spielern, Sektenmitgliedern und kleinen Gangstern folgen, die von etwas Größerem träumen und sich narrensichere Pläne ausdenken, um dorthin zu gelangen, aber feststellen, dass der Weg dorthin komplizierter ist, als sie sich jemals vorgestellt haben.

The perfect accompaniment to that deep fall feeling, Frank Maston's beloved 2025 single finally gets its long overdue vinyl release! As our friends New Commute articulated beautifully, "Foreign Affairs" drifts through London fog and Paris shimmer, its avant-lounge glow wrapping each melody in a wistful ache. On B-side "Liaison," ghostly strings and a solitary piano paint a deserted twilight shoreline, Pacôme Henry's distinct 16mm cinematography hovering nearby." We've pressed just 500 of these gorgeous records so, be quick, Maston always flies.

Originally written for a film Maston was scoring in 2024, he decided to keep it aside for himself. And, well, us all. The song has a vibe Maston has previously flirted with; he wanted to dive in...all the way: "The arrangement is huge, definitely the biggest I've written, and it merited live musicians playing together. Also another experiment, to do it with all live musicians playing my arrangements. I wanted to make something that you'd want to put on when you bring a date back to your place. It's on the edge of sappy but that's sort of the point. I decided to give myself an unlimited budget - just spend whatever was necessary to get the right musicians and record it the best way possible."

It's this dedication to sonic perfection which Maston is rightly lauded for. We couldn't not put this on a cute wee 7" when we heard it.

The A side, "Foreign Affairs", is a brilliant, Bacharach-esque romp with a bit of that unapologetically romantic Morricone angle. Says Frank: "I was trying to synthesize that sort of jazzy/sexy/classy/romantic mature sound, where the edginess is in these surprising chord changes and subtle arrangement cues."

A wonderful complement, the flipside "Liaison", evokes Martin Denny, but Eden's Island was in Frank's head, too. He wanted to take a deep dive into that exotica sound - a genre he'd referenced a bit but never fully committed to - so the piece is lavished with those big sighing strings and a pretty lush arrangement. Happily, it all sounds super rich. Also, "Umiliani is always a reference for this sort of thing (Il Corpo etc.), That almost mechanical arrangement of things moving together and a simple melody over it (something I nicked from Ennio)".

The two songs were recorded in Paris and London in the summer of 2024. Aside from the rhythm section and piano, there's vibraphone, a full string section, trombones and alto and concert flutes. "Liaison" boasts strings, vibraphone, a female choir and tenor sax. Maston played piano and acoustic guitar but that's it (as opposed to playing basically everything on Tulips). His friend Oscar Sholto Robertson played drums and percussion whilst Maston mainstay Elie Ghersinu (formerly of L'Eclair) played bass.

The theme for a lot of Maston's titles is that they have two meanings. So "Foreign Affairs" is both a reference to him living abroad and the idea of constant cultural diplomacy and then there's this sexy/cheeky interpretation of foreign affairs in a literal way - "an affair abroad, ooh la la!". The artwork for this 7" single has Roman campaign flags, referencing the foreign affairs in sort of a sassy way. There's a violence implied. But then if you look from a bit of a distance it looks like a bouquet of flowers. So Frank thought it went with the spirit of the title. Also, he's used a lot of roman motifs now so he kept that theme going, even with the terracotta cover.

This is a vitally important project for our Frank. He explains why, here: "For whatever reason, these songs really resonated with me. I feel like they are either the end of a stylistic era for me or the beginning of a new one. They're sonically the culmination of what I'd been working towards and trying to get better at since I started. If I heard this when I was making Tulips I would have said "YES! *This* is what I want to be doing!". So that's the essence of it. It's a statement and the intended reaction is "This is really good, but why now?". Like the edge to it is the context of someone making this sort of thing in 2025, which I think is a huge strength. The real heads will get it. My music always has like a 2-3 year latency until people really catch onto it, and these ones will have a nice payoff I think."

We couldn't put it better ourselves. So we haven't.

As trans-Atlantic alchemists pulling from a shared dialectic that somehow encompassed both postmodern deconstructionist tendencies and a delightfully subversive sense of poptimism, it’s easy to see how David Cunningham and Peter Gordon immediately hit it off upon initially meeting each other back in the late-1970s at the height of their youthful transgressions. Having initially worked together on the second Flying Lizards’ LP fourth wall, with its ingenious fusion of dismantled rhythms and rearranged melodies juxtaposed against the slyly sultry singing of Snatch’s Patti Palladin— with Gordon adding a few sprinkles of mischievous sax in the mix— it’s no wonder the collaboration would lead to further musical adventures.

Which leads us directly to the genesis of The Yellow Box. Embarking on a collaborative exercise in the structural repurposing of music as untethered puzzle pieces in need of rearrangement with no predetermined outcomes, the duo gave birth to a project that would see them move through both time and recording studios across Europe, taking nearly two years from 1981-1983 to complete. Enlisting the great Anton Fier on drums from The Feelies/Lounge Lizards nexus and John Greaves on bass from Henry Cow/Soft Heap lore to round out their dueling creative counterparts, the album would be something of a lost treasure until its eventual release on Cunningham’s Piano imprint in 1996.

Cinematic in scope, and filled with drifting drones, beautiful counter-melodies, eery minimalism, Kraftwerkian synthesizers, looped voices, skronky interludes, and other shifting undercurrents of sound, it was an album that utilized both a diverse array of expressive languages, as well as early sampling techniques and prepared instruments, well before most people were thinking in such expansive, integrated terms at the dawn of the 80’s. But such is life at the vanguard of new music. And one of the reasons that it likely sat on the shelf for so long before finally being released well over a decade later. Like a sparser, less groove-oriented version of My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, or a more radical take on the experimental work of Can’s Holger Czukay, The Yellow Box stands at the crossroads of time and technology, fusing multiple strands of musical thought and compositional techniques into a disjointed whole that somehow still comes off as a conceptually complete record.

Now, here it is again, over 40 years later, with perhaps even more historical resonance than it had before, remade and remodeled just waiting to be rediscovered again.

SoftSun was formed in 2023 by guitarist Gary Arce (Yawning Man) and bassist/vocalist Pia Isaksen (PIA ISA). On their second album they are joined by Robert Garson on drums. The band is experimenting with sounds and are difficult to place in a specific genre. They have a style of their own with contrasts of softness and distortion, beauty and noise and emotional peaks and valleys. The music is patient, heavy and dreamy, with haunting vocals and beautiful guitars drenched in distortion and reverb over patient and thought out drums. The songs are flowing slowly and take inspiration from both the Californian desert landscapes to the Norwegian oceans where the two founding members come from. On this second record SoftSun has developed their sound further and sound both moody, experimental, beautiful, and raw.

Aqua Blue vinyl, limited to 350 copies. SoftSun was formed in 2023 by guitarist Gary Arce (Yawning Man) and bassist/vocalist Pia Isaksen (PIA ISA). On their second album they are joined by Robert Garson on drums. The band is experimenting with sounds and are difficult to place in a specific genre. They have a style of their own with contrasts of softness and distortion, beauty and noise and emotional peaks and valleys. The music is patient, heavy and dreamy, with haunting vocals and beautiful guitars drenched in distortion and reverb over patient and thought out drums. The songs are flowing slowly and take inspiration from both the Californian desert landscapes to the Norwegian oceans where the two founding members come from. On this second record SoftSun has developed their sound further and sound both moody, experimental, beautiful, and raw.

Acclaimed electronic musicians, producers and sound architects Max Cooper and Rob Clouth team up for a new collaborative EP; a dark, playful four-track dive into ambient, breakbeat and techno’s subconscious flow, featuring a standout vocal performance from South London rapper FLOHIO.

Recorded over a series of spontaneous London sessions, “8 Billion Realities” channels years of creative exchange between two of the genre’s most quietly innovative artists and is a result of a decision between the longtime friends to refrain from conceptual overthinking in favour of instinct and joy.

As long-time admirers of each other’s audio/visual work, Cooper and Clouth collaborated in London together after both emerging from intense, idea-heavy album cycles. What followed was a series of exploratory sessions, half-improvised, half-built around half-formed thoughts.

The result is a club-ready EP that feels alive and human: imperfect and hypnotically rich.

“Rob Clouth has been one of my favourite electronic music producers since I first heard his work in 2011,” says Cooper. “His work is more full of ideas and structure than anyone else.” “We were both coming from extensive conceptual studio albums and both in the mood for simplifying things and having some fun with the music, so that’s what we did”.

For Clouth, no stranger to Max Coopers Mesh label having previously released an array of EP’s plus his 2020 debut album “Zero Point” this record marks a new chapter, both creatively and personally.“Something pretty new for me is collaborating,” he says. “You kind of have to when to stop, because if you develop an idea all the way to its endpoint, the other person has nowhere to jump in.”

The first “A Moment Set Aside” began as a break from another idea, a live, unplanned improvisation based around arps and ambience. “The track was written in about as long as it took to play it,” says Cooper. “It was pulled from a 1 hour recording session, more or less as you hear it… the energy and excitement grew as the unplanned moment bore some magic.”

“The lesson being that sometimes it’s helpful to set aside a moment without forcing results, and let the subconscious have something to say.” What followed was darker, heavier. “Asymptote” is detuned techno. Subversive and euphoric in its descent. “We found a sort of brain mangling, half consonant, half wandering detuned techno pulse, which we started chatting about being a sort of pit of spiralling body parts we were falling into,” says Cooper. “It was a lot of fun to work on and let loose with bigger kicks than I usually ever get to unleash.”

Then came “8 Billion Realities”, featuring a standout rap performance from FLOHIO; an emerging figure in the UK grime and rap scene. The track was inspired by conversations about algorithmic echo chambers and hyper-personalised online worlds. Frantic, direct, and South London to the core, FLOHIO brings this tension to life. Her sharp, intense flow cuts through distortion and rhythm, landing the track somewhere between chaos and control instantly making it one of the most striking moments in either artist’s catalogue. “A different reality for all 8 billion of us,” says Cooper. “We weren’t sure if it would work… but there was something about the energy of the percussive idea and the story which felt like it might fit.” “Then FLOHIO had a play with it and straight off the bat absolutely killed it, not just with the lyrics and energy, but the harmonising too, it was a beautiful process.”

The final piece on the EP “Candeleda” originated from Clouth’s solo experiments with a live rig made entirely of vocals and keys, using his self-developed “cheatbox” system. “He put forward a beautiful stumbling melodic sequence which we bounced back and forth adding harmonies and synth layers,” says Cooper. “It rounds off a collection covering some of the breadth of music that we both love.”

In May, fans were treated to the first new music from Trentemøller since 2022. A new single, "A Different Light," showcased a stunning blend of prismatic space rock and folk. For anyone wondering if it foreshadowed the release of a full-length, Dreamweaver will drop in September, on Friday the 13th.
Featuring 10 tracks that traverse Trentemøller's many musical strengths, Dreamweaver also represents an obvious artistic leap, treading new ground while retaining the overall plot. Tracks featuring vocals come courtesy of of Iceland's Disa, who has been in Trentemøller's fold since the Memoria tour.
Dreamweaver's nylon string-led opening track, and first single from the album, "A Different Light," contains many of Trentemøller's trademarks: exploring dichotomies, musical shadowplay, Nordic frigidity, and warm waves. It opens the door for the steady, hypnotic "Nightfall," with its tetherless vocal, wistful guitars, and early morning desert chill. The third track in the opening trifecta, "Dreamweavers" finds its footing with a percussive soft trot, which starts after what feels like a shortwave radio scan in search of the right chords, eventually dialing in a weightless voice. Ostensibly keeping a ruminative pace with the previous two tracks, the song and, by extension, album soon opens up as the rest of the elements drop into place with a grand, luxurious burst.
Dreamweaver is about to enter its next phase. With the hatch blown off of the portal, the noisy "I Give My Tears," driven by its glissed and fuzzy bass line, pours into the void. It's followed by its sibling, the most chaotic track on Dreamweaver, "Behind My Eyes." Arriving as a piece of noise rock pandemonium, "Behind My Eyes," can't be contained in its plush vault. A whip-crack snare and convulsing guitars smash against each other in the song's verse chamber. The tension builds, as the particles collide, pushing past the point of critical mass, kicking off the chain reaction which is the chorus. At times it harkens back to the proto-gaze tracks that gave birth to dream pop, at others it newly defines what that is. There's no time to contemplate it, though, as the song disintegrates in a microphonic feedback instant.
A respite follows with the somnambulistic pair of "Hollow" and "Empty Beaches." Then, a moment of intensity returns as the soaring textures and tribal drum bursts of "In A Storm" take control, before being taken out with the ambient slo-core of "Winter's Ghost" and "Closure." This diptych wraps up an album which certainly feels on-script for Trentemøller, but is also much more psychedelic than previous offerings.
Dreamweaver will be released on Trentemøller's own In My Room label. It is an exceedingly immersive experience, bound to release any dormant hallucinations you may be harboring.

After so long it becomes harder to say new things about older things you now just do. Some things you've become. Some things you simply (never simply) are. The thing becomes a slippery notion. The self slides along with it. After this long, the story is whatever are the songs. A Self-portrait at two decades. Here are 11 new ones, from the current constellation, and a future still to come. The cement is still wet on that one. From the forest near where I now live you can hear a chorus of different birds in voice at once, competing but each defined, in defence of a territory or to attract a mate. There's an app that tells you so. I wonder, too, what that app doesn't reveal, if their nature need not share those same purposes. This is simply (never simply) how it exists. If we can't speak to the mysteries of these strategies, they at least persist, regardless of who picks up the frequency. Singing to itself, and there will always be these kinds of songs. Indies only Blue Vinyl! 1.Ulrika Spacek - 'Interesting Corners' 2. Empty Country - 'D3SP4IR' 3. The Reds, Pinks & Purples - 'New Market Space (Down the Stairs Ver.) 4. Cindy - 'The Thousand First' 5. April Magazine - 'U Bop' 6. Index For Working Musik - 'Going to Heaven On the End of A String' 7. Midding - 'Do As You Would' 8. Luft - 'My Third Eye' 9. Hospital - '25 Jade Place' 10. William Doyle - 'The Sun Ain't Doing It For Me Lately' 11. Daily Toll - 'Begin Again'

Difficult as it may be to imagine, there was a time when Sun City Girls did not exist. Prior to the Bishop brothers teaming up with drummer/shaman Charlie Gocher to form SCG's classic trio lineup, there were various ad-hoc assemblages of local Phoenix-area freaks and weirdos – groups which existed only long enough to play a single gig, open mic or house party before disbanding without a trace. Hatched from this milieu was Paris 1942, a short-lived band formed by guitarist Jesse Srogoncik that included Alan Bishop, Richard Bishop and former Velvet Underground drummer Maureen Tucker.

Paris 1942 would play only four shows in as many months, but between April and August of 1982, the band would gather several times a week in Tucker's living room, where the group feverishly wrote and rehearsed with a kind of quotidian discipline. While P42 didn't release anything during their brief tenure, a 7" EP and LP (both self-titled) surreptitiously surfaced on the Majora label in the mid to late '90s. Until now, those two titles – as well as an appearance on Placebo's Amuck comp in late '82 – would be the only documented evidence that this improbable, serendipitous and magnificent band ever existed.

While those expecting P42's music to sound like a tantalizing combination of Sun City Girls' iconoclastic hoodoo havoc and the Velvets' primal drug-chug certainly won't be disappointed, Paris 1942 more often than not transcends even these nearly impossible expectations. Srogoncik's songs, in particular, are a revelation, displaying as much in common with the exuberant raunch of The Gun Club and the chapbook punk of Peter Laughner as they do any of the more obvious touchstones.

The group's foresight to document and capture this meeting of musical minds – a meeting as unlikely as it was short-lived – provides a missing link between the Velvets and the Voidoids, between the Dead Boys and the Dead C, between ESP-Disk' and DNA. Far more than a historical curiosity, Paris 1942 provides a fresh perspective on an embryonic and sadly vanishing US underground. It is music that blinks at the past and anticipates a thousand possible futures.

– James Toth (excerpt from the liner notes)

The Dead 60s seminal self-titled album gets a timely Deluxe edition reissue on Vinyl for its 20th Anniversary, on Deltasonic Records



“Back in the day, punk and dub weren’t just sharing space—they were smashing into each other headfirst. Late '70s Britain was a pressure cooker, and for kids like me, growing up between Brixton’s bass bins and the chaos of King’s Road, that collision was everything. Jamaican sound system culture met punk’s raw spirit in a haze of smoke, sweat, and feedback. It wasn’t about genre—it was about energy. Identity. Defiance. so when The Dead 60s came along, post-Britpop and post-bullshit, it felt like someone had dusted off the blueprint and run it through a battered old tape echo. These weren’t just lads with good taste—they understood the assignment. They took the DNA of two rebel cultures and mutated it into something that could stand tall in the 21st century. Dub-soaked, punk-fuelled, dripping with that Liverpool attitude. I remember first hearing them and thinking—yeah, here we go again. Not in a retro way, but in a real way. Guitars that cut like sirens in the night. Basslines fat and warm, straight out the Channel One playbook. Lyrics that painted the grey corners of Britain like CCTV poetry. It was the sound of youth under pressure. The sound of not fitting in—and not wanting to.

Their debut album dropped in 2005, and it hit like a flare in the dark. “Riot Radio” was a pirate broadcast from the concrete frontlines. “Control This” swaggered with menace and reverb. It was like someone opened a time capsule from the punky-reggae party and rewired it for a new generation.

Now, with this 20th anniversary vinyl reissue—complete with the full dub companion produced by Central Nervous System—we get to hear the bones and blood of it all. The dub versions pull the tracks apart and let the ghosts speak. Reverb, delay, space—it’s not just production, it’s meditation. Revolution slowed down to a heartbeat. It’s music that makes you move and think. What they’ve done here is more than remix a record—they’ve revealed its soul. That’s what dub does when it’s done right. And The Dead 60s, they got that. They weren’t tourists in the culture—they were students of it, shaped by it, and ultimately, contributors to the legacy. Liverpool’s long had a love affair with Jamaican music—you can hear it in the streets if you’re really listening. The Dead 60s tapped into that lineage, but they brought their own thing to the table. Punk's fire. Dub’s depth. Ska’s bounce. All filtered through a Northern lens and blasted out like protest graffiti. This 20th anniversary reissue ain’t about nostalgia. It’s a reminder. A celebration. A call to arms. Music like this doesn’t belong in a museum—it belongs on a system, shaking walls and waking minds. Crate diggers, completists, young punks, old heads—this one's for all of you.

So put it on and turn it up. Let the punk edge sharpen your thoughts, and the dub shake your bones ‘cos this isn’t just a reissue - it’s resistance on wax.....”

Found Keys is the debut album by American artist Ruth Maine. Although Ruth has been playing and composing music for over two decades, this is the first time she decided to record some of her varied compositions and share them with the public. But in times when it is the norm to clamour for attention, she prefers to go the opposite way. Ruth likes to let her music speak for itself and stay in the shadows.

The 16 short piano pieces heard on this album, each about two to three minutes long, were recorded remotely and purely surrounded by nature. Once a composition was found and Ruth considered it mature, she only recorded it once, embracing the beauty of doing something for the first time with all its little imperfections. Found Keys sounds anything but imperfect though. These compositions feel timeless, intimate and comforting, as if they have been around for a long time, like an old friend. Gently played keys slowly evolve into minimal pieces through repetitive melodies. There’s stillness as much as there’s brightness, sadness as much as joy; welcome to a beautiful journey through Ruth’s world of wonder.

In many ways, Found Keys is a deeply personal record that takes Sonic Pieces back to its roots. And it leaves a feeling of nostalgia while reviving memories of the past.

Found Keys is the debut album by American artist Ruth Maine. Although Ruth has been playing and composing music for over two decades, this is the first time she decided to record some of her varied compositions and share them with the public. But in times when it is the norm to clamour for attention, she prefers to go the opposite way. Ruth likes to let her music speak for itself and stay in the shadows.

The 16 short piano pieces heard on this album, each about two to three minutes long, were recorded remotely and purely surrounded by nature. Once a composition was found and Ruth considered it mature, she only recorded it once, embracing the beauty of doing something for the first time with all its little imperfections. Found Keys sounds anything but imperfect though. These compositions feel timeless, intimate and comforting, as if they have been around for a long time, like an old friend. Gently played keys slowly evolve into minimal pieces through repetitive melodies. There’s stillness as much as there’s brightness, sadness as much as joy; welcome to a beautiful journey through Ruth’s world of wonder.

In many ways, Found Keys is a deeply personal record that takes Sonic Pieces back to its roots. And it leaves a feeling of nostalgia while reviving memories of the past.

OOOOH! by Alex Bad Baby Lukashevsky with Cocoa Corner (2025)

Celebrated veteran of Toronto’s music scene, known for his boundary-pushing approach to folk and avant-garde music, twists rock music into strange and brilliant new shapes with the help of young jazz players, U.S. Girls, and his own immensely talented son.



OOOOH! is hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Made in the spirit of unity,
humanity, and poetry — disobediently renouncing the glory of personal triumph for the
generosity of an honest experiment. On the last track of the album you’ll hear “Or do you only ever never want to make a single enemy? / That’s not freedom or humility / It’s nothing, honestly.” Oooh, that's a bad baby!

A celebrated Toronto songwriter and performer, Alex Lukashevsky has always been disobedient. Which simply means, nothing is off the table when he’s looking for his
poetic voice; when trying to find the realest I of the teller. As he sings on the lead track “that musician that’s dead” The musician is radical/ it’s the world that’s demented/ listening with their eyes, the music looks dented/ they’re over-represented.
OOOOH! was recorded in January 2024 at Sound Department in Toronto, engineered by Patrick Lefler (ROY), mixed by Grammy-nominated producer Matt Smith. All the songs were tracked live off the floor in two days, with one extra day for recording vocals, to keep the recording fully alive and breathing. As leader of Deep Dark United, as a solo performer, and a sideman in Brodie Wests’ Eucalyptus and Luka Kuplowsky’s Ryokan Band, Alex has been an outsized influence on the Toronto music scene that spawned acts like Broken Social Scene and Owen Pallett. (Pallett, who has toured with Lukashevsky, went so far as to record an entire album’s worth of Alex’s songs, backed
by a full orchestra.)

Lukashevsky has approached each of his albums and projects as something completely new, using only the musical boundaries he creates with each song. Even when he
has recorded songs with nothing but his voice and his own acoustic guitar accompaniment, the results are never “stripped down” or “back to basics,”
Gong! How do you get to heaven / have fun! have fun!
It’s cool to approach music as a game of “spot the influence”; Burt Bacharach-meets-Black Flag; Lana Del Rey-meets-LCD Soundsystem etc. Glorified mash-ups are promising because of their conversational nature. But they can turn us into hyperboreans; blowing cold air beyond ourselves while doing what we can to remain warm. To devise a game or a narrative is to have a winner and a loser, but we all know that just as you win/ so you lose. And does anything really change? Alex Lukashevsky and Cocoa Corner are more at ease drawing blind contours or playing an old game like consequences. They let things add up without knowing particularly how. Cognition is recognition.

Lukashevsky, in addition to writing all the songs, plays guitar and sings on OOOOH!, doing both in ways that are soulful and spikey at the same time. Joining him on guitar and vocals is his oldest child, Charlie Lukashevsky, who, at 23, is already a talented performer and songwriter in his own right. Cocoa Corner also includes Aidan McConnell, an in-demand drummer and composer, Jack Johnston, a jazz bassist and Barry Harris acolyte, and percussionist Evan Cartwright (The Weather Station, U.S. Girls, Cola, Tasseomancy), who plays steel pan and marching drum.

Working with his son and with other younger musicians is central to the album’s
unpredictable aesthetic. It reinvigorated the sound in unexpected ways. Lukashevsky says, “I had to reconsider my own instincts. I had to deal with being 99 years old.”
In addition to these performers, the album includes a tasty contribution from Meg
Remy, the visionary musician and producer who is the leader of the critically acclaimed
project U.S. Girls. Remy duets with Lukashevsky on the imagistic and sprawling album
closer “things keep happening.”
About that album title: OOOOH! is taken straight from “that musician that’s dead” an
arch and unhinged comment on the exertion required to navigate a lifetime of music making.
Lukashevsky’s delivery of that one emotive word is a kind of cultural posture, but also a
hundred percent primitive expression. The impact is never less than visceral. His vocal
delivery ranges through rich baritone blues to keening falsettos to a kind of sprechstimme that periodically steps out from the music to grab the listener’s shirt. He
doesn’t sound too nice, but he is sincere. When life gives you lemons lament.
For OOOOH! his first official full-length album since 2012’s Too Late Blues, (a collection of knotty-yet-effervescent tunes built upon the enchantingly serpentine harmonies of Lukashevsky and his vocal collaborators, Felicity Williams (Bahamas, Bernice) and Daniela Gesundheit (Snowblink, HYDRA)), Alex has once again broken apart and rebuilt his own approach to music. Or rather (because that sounds too over-determined), he
has allowed his music to build itself into strange new shapes that only fleetingly and
coincidentally, but happily, resemble anything that might be called rock and roll. There is some editorializing within the song’s lyrics— Lukashevsky even cheekily contributes to the “spot the influence” game with the line “Muddy Waters, Rite of Spring!” a funny preemptive strike against anyone already reaching for some variation of avant-blues to describe what the song is up to here. In fact there are many names checked on this record (literally and in spirit); they are the lily pads that trace the path of this expression! Palestrina, Peter Pears and Benjamin Brittain, Andrés Segovia, Stravinsky, Lotte Lenya, Alice Coltrane, Skip James, Chuck Berry, D’Gary, Betty Carter, Mukhtiyar Ali, Chuck D, Yoko Ono, Hailu Mergia, David Bowie, Jane Siberry. rhythm is a skeleton mansion / haunted by melody / feckless prodigy / the world is under a spell / cast by some demon angel / Practice day and night / Try as hard as hell / no one can sing that well Musicians are often worried by the way in which they are prepared to fail rather
than how they would like to succeed; it’s such a deep concern that it tempers their creativity and shackles their process. Current cultural proclivities, tend to comfort a certain kind of artistic failure and abnegate another kind. How many testimonials, full of heartfelt care and investment, have you heard for Taylor Swift, and yet a craftsman like Chris Weisman is often dismissed easily as though he’s doing something anti-social. what’s throwing itself in my ears and my eyes / arrogant devil ad hominem christ.
The music you will hear on this recording veers off in multiple directions at once,
and features a rock and roll spirit with a divergent heart. This is no sclerotic clomp of the Average Rock Song, but in fact a flood of humanity in all its darkness and moodiness and unpredictability. If most performers make songs that are like sports cars or pickup trucks to drive around, Lukashevsky has built something more akin to a rowboat in a tree: it’s weird and beautiful.

Following the reissue of his debut album Dispatches, Field Records is proud to return to the seminal work of Mike Parker with an overview of his releases on Prologue — a truly original strain of steely, hypnotic techno that has touched upon many different waves within the wider scene.
Having pioneered a hard-edged, reductionist style via his Geophone label since the mid-90s, around 2010 Mike Parker found himself at the vanguard of an emergent sound alongside artists like Donato Dozzy and Cio D'or exploring the possibilities of immersive, profoundly transcendental club music. The Prologue label came to define this cult zeitgeist, where reduction and repetition took on a truly psychedelic quality and the subtle details made all the difference. It ran from 2008 to 2015, laying the foundations for the deep techno sound that remains a vital, evolving subculture in the present moment.
From Parker's first appearance on Prologue with the Subterranean Liquid EP in 2011 through to the Lustrations LP in 2013, he delivered some of the most incisive music of his accomplished career — teased-out rhythms carrying exquisitely engineered textures veering from the subliminal to the visceral, locked into endless, cyclical oblivion and maintaining a stern, machinist veneer. This collection on Field Records combs through Parker's Prologue output and makes a considered selection, gathering key pieces from the first two EPs alongside six of the album tracks on a triple vinyl pressing, alongside a further eight cuts on the expanded digital edition.
Not just a straight-forward reissue, consider Epilogue a thoughtful reframing of a key point in Mike Parker's stellar career. In every exacting pulse, every inch of tacit spatial design, it's the work of an expert sculpting a sound which remains influential in the here and now.

The Spice of Life, released in November 1969, stands as Marlena Shaw's second--and final--studio album for Cadet Records, produced and arranged by the renowned Richard Evans and Charles Stepney. From the opening, Shaw's voice--both playful and powerful--cuts through the lush yet tight-knit arrangements, weaving together a vibrant tapestry of soul, proto-funk, jazz, gospel, and blues. The album features two defining classics: her deeply resonant original of 'Woman of the Ghetto' and a signature take on Ashford & Simpson's 'California Soul', both staples in sampling culture (you'll probably find that you're more familiar with Shaw's material than you thought.) Evans and Stepney's arrangements are far from mere support--they're panoramic and inventive. You'll hear kalimba flourishes, psych-tinged guitar accents, and bongo-fueled organ textures that elevate each track, keeping the atmosphere rich but never overwhelming. Moments like the Bacharach-styled 'Looking Through the Eyes of Love' or the dramatic flair of 'Stormy Monday' showcase their widescreen sensibility and Shaw's versatility. Beneath its musical elegance, "The Spice of Life" carries a weighty current of social commentary. Tracks such as 'Woman of the Ghetto' and the succinct, fierce 'Liberation Conversation' bring political and feminist themes into a soulful, expressive framework--adding unexpected depth to the sophisticated sonic palette. This album offers an immersive journey through soul-jazz mastery, one that rewarded listeners with sampling gold for decades to come. Reissue on 180g vinyl.

Blang Records are thrilled to announce another two vinyl album re-releases from Jeffrey Lewis's back catalogue: The debut classic The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane (originally Rough Trade 2001) and The critically acclaimed 4th album 12 Crass Songs (originally Rough Trade 2007). 12 Crass Songs (VV004LP): Astonishingly transformed covers of songs originally written by the band Crass in 1978-1984, this 2007 LP is the most rare and sought-after vinyl in Jeffrey's catalogue and is also now completely out of stock. "Weird? Very_ _ but it's also downright inspiring" (4 of 5 stars) - Rolling Stone. "The record presents Crass's lyrics calmly, often demonstrating how sane and practical they are; it proves once again, and kind of thrillingly this time, that no music is immune to interpretation" - The New York Times. "Folk maverick raids anarchist commune and finds catchy tunes_ Works wonderfully" - Spin "Jeffrey Lewis' talents appear without end_ (on 12 Crass Songs he) magically makes the anarcho-rockers' anti-establishment savagery his own, by wrapping their barbed sentiments in his trademark mottled tea-towel warmth" - NME. "12 Crass Songs succeeds utterly_ eerily beautiful and strangely affecting" - Plan B Magazine "He's taken hold of any number of my old stormy favourites and breathed fresh life and fire into them. . . Man, I'm in awe of Jeffrey right now. Who'd have thought he could have done that?" - Everett True/ Village Voice "Quite brilliant" - (4 of 5 stars) MOJO. "It's no mean feat to transform such abrasive harangues into lush, tuneful folk_ without defusing their righteous anger_ but Crass's intelligent and indignant screeds could not hope for a more sympathetic translator." (4 of 5 stars) - THE GUARDIAN. Blang Records and Jeffrey Lewis have history: before Blang was a label, it started life as a live night at the 12 Bar Club in Denmark Street, hosting many a set of the NY Antifolk artists over on UK shores, including Jeffrey Lewis. Now 20+ years since Jeffrey first played Blang. Native New Yorker Jeffrey Lewis is a comic book writer/artist and a musician. A cult hero birthed from the now infamous antifolk movement that sprung up on Manhattan's Lower East Side in the 90s, Jeffrey has released dozens of albums showcasing his unique blend of bleakly witty observations, scratchy, lo-fi punk and croaky folk/anti-folk, all firmly rooted in a strong DIY sensibility. Jeffrey and his band have toured the world multiple times over, released albums on Rough Trade, Moshi Moshi and Don GIovanni Records, and have been featured by NPR, The History Channel, The NY Times and more.

Argentine pianist Hernán Jacinto and Uruguayan drummer Mateo Ottonello, come together in this boundary-pushing duo album recorded in New York. Blending acoustic and electronic textures, tradition and innovation, this project reimagines South American jazz through a contemporary lens-offering a powerful journey into the evolving sound of the Rio de la Plata. The two shores of the Río de la Plata-Buenos Aires and Montevideo-share a deep and vibrant jazz tradition, one that merges global influences with the region's rich musical heritage. For over half a century, rhythms like tango, candombe, and milonga have intertwined with jazz and other instrumental forms, continually exploring new directions and pushing creative boundaries. Argentine pianist and composer Hernán Jacinto and Uruguayan drummer and percussionist Mateo Ottonello embody this spirit of exploration. Though from different generations, both are among the most innovative voices in the Río de la Plata music scene-artists unafraid to blend past and present in pursuit of something new. Recorded in New York, their duo album offers a journey into the musical soul of the Río de la Plata, reimagined through a contemporary lens. It weaves a rich tapestry of acoustic and electronic textures, tradition and experimentation, groove and introspection. More than a fusion, it's a reinvention-revealing a new dimension of South American jazz musicianship.

"Hasabe" is a thoughtfully curated collection of Ethio-groove recordings from one of the overlooked pioneers of 1970s Addis Ababa's vibrant music scene-Ayalew Mesfin and his Black Lion Band. Expect trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, funky guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals- all seasoned with a unique Ethiopian touch_ For many, the music created in 1970s Ethiopia will sound both familiar and alien: while the trappings of '70s Ethiopian music carry some aspects that those in the West will easily identify with-trap drum kits, jazz big-band styled horn sections, guitars played through wah wah and fuzz pedals-the Ethiopian style of singing, and the modes in which the musicians move, may confound. Perhaps some who have delved into the instrumental Ethio-Jazz of Mulatu Astatke-a well-known Ethiopian musical export, relatively unknown in his homeland-will have a context in which to engage this great compilation of '70s Ethiopian music by Ayalew Mesfin. The music Mesfin created with his Black Lion Band is amongst the funkiest to arise from Addis Ababa; his recording career, captured in nearly two dozen 7" singles and numerous reel-to-reel tapes, shows the strata of the most fertile decade in Ethiopia's 20th century recording industry, when records were pressed constantly by both independent upstarts and corporate behemoths, even if they were only distributed within the confines of the unconquerable East African nation. Ayalew was forced underground by the Derg regime that took control of the country in 1974. Until recently, only four of Ayalew Mesfin's tracks had been reissued, appearing in the well-known "Éthiopiques" series. "Hasabe", a carefully curated collection of his singles, marks the first comprehensive release of this powerful and long-overlooked body of work by an artist whose originality and resistance defined a genre: Ethio-groove. More than four decades later, this album offers the rare opportunity to rediscover a vital and beautiful chapter in global music history. We are now reissuing "Hasabe" once again thanks to a collaboration with Now Again. Pressed on 180g vinyl.

Punk pioneer/Eater main-man, Andy Blade's 7th solo album and follow up to 2024's critically acclaimed & heavily rotated, Sparks bros endorsed "Being Alive Is Fun". It is imbued with the usual left-of-centre Blade-ism's & themes: star maps, UFO's & a slightly twisted nod to tragic 70's heroine Karen Carpenter. You get what you deserve with Blade, and with Tiny Specks you are rewarded with a rich code to decipher at your leisure. Most of all, however, it is all about the quality of his songwriting. Opening track 'Karen Is The Drummer' (featuring Blade's regular singing collaborator - PseudoPomp's Katerina Sharkova) seems unsettlingly self-explanatory, but all does not seem well in the Carpenter M.O.R world - 'It's just her & her brother & her folks indifference to that girl'. Occasional Dinosaur Jr vocalist Tiffany Anders gives 'I'm Not Myself' a poppy but eerie nuance. PollyPikPocketz's Myura Amara pops up on the short but very sweet 'About That'. Matilda Scotland, Quick Romance's uber-cool punky-chanteuse - adds her Gen Z aura to the summery 'I Like It When You're Happy'. Former Generation X guitarist Bob 'Derwood' Andrews, with whom Blade has worked with consistently of late, once again features heavily on 'Tiny Specks'_ Like with Katerina Sharkova's voice, Derwood guitar lines interweave with Blade's honeyed vocal as though they made for each other. 'This Place' is another key track, capturing the claustrophobic-genocidal mood of what has been taking place in Gaza/Palestine for over two years now, and counting. 'This is not so much a protest song as it is the noise in my head'. If John Lydon is the Widow Twanky of Punk, and Billy Idol, its Elvis, then Andy Blade must surely be the Sinatra of Punk.

An’archives presents Kagome Kagome, the first collaboration between France’s Delphine Dora and Japan’s Ayami Suzuki. Curious listeners might know Dora from the string of lovely, idiosyncratic albums she’s released over the past two decades, most recently for labels like Modern Love, Morc and Recital; she’s also worked with the likes of Michel Henritzi and Sophie Cooper. Suzuki’s performances, predominantly for voice, place her within a tradition of Japanese improvised music – see the music she’s made with artists such as Takashi Masubuchi, TOMO and Leo Okagawa – but her approach also takes in folk song, ambience and claustrophobic drone.

On Kagome Kagome, Dora and Suzuki play to their many strengths: a gentle, free-willed folksiness; long, aerated drone constructs; ghostly, time-warping explorations for voice. They met on Dora’s May 2024 tour of Japan, though they’d been in touch beforehand, with Dora proposing the collaboration to Suzuki, developed around “concepts of ‘otherworldliness’ and ‘impermanence’,” the latter says, “and explored the relationship between ‘the invisible’ and sound in Japanese culture – a common interest we share.”

They recorded across several days that month, with the sessions for Kagome Kagome taking place in Kanumi, in Tochigi prefecture, at a space named Center. “I was particularly looking forward to seeing Delphine encounter the vintage 104-year-old harmonium from Nippon Gakki Seizo Co. that had just been repaired at Center,” Suzuki recalls. “It was as if the harmonium had been waiting for Delphine to draw sound from it. I felt it was a beautiful relationship where they could guide each other.”

Indeed, there’s something channelled about the music that Dora and Suzuki made together in the session that constitutes Kagome Kagome. Dora’s harmonium might be the spine of the album, but Suzuki’s free- floating voice, and gaseous, muddied banks of electronics, wrap around the wheezing, ancient tonality of the harmonium beautifully – they, too, sound as though they were just waiting to be willed out of the daytime air. Their voices nestle together beautifully – “when we sang together in a tunnel,” Suzuki says, “there were times when we sang the exact same melody without planning. It happened so naturally that the boundaries between us became blurred.”

And that title? It’s drawn from a Japanese children’s song, and the song titles themselves constitute the song’s lyrics, in alternating Japanese (Romanized) and French language. Urban legend connects the song “Kagome Kagome” to the Nikko Toshogu Shrine, nearby Center, that Suzuki and Dora visited while they were in Kanumi. “The mysterious lyrics of ‘Kagome Kagome’ and its puzzle-like connection to Nikko Toshogu were a perfect fit for this mysterious album,” Suzuki reflects, “which I think has its own kind of puzzle-like elements.”

A deep album of prayer and magic, of divination and ritual, Kagome Kagome’s sense of serious play, its rich beauty, feels somehow dislocated from our time. If you’ve ever enjoyed the music of Nico, Kendra Smith, Charalambides, or other channelers of ghostly mystery, its eerie otherness will, somehow, feel oddly familiar.

For over 11 years, Nowadays Records has been shaping the French electronic music scene with boundless energy and total artistic freedom. Much more than a label, Nowadays is a big musical family where every release, meeting and event becomes a real celebration. With over a hundred albums and nearly a thousand titles to its credit, Nowadays Records embodies musical diversity across a variety of genres: abstract hip-hop, house, electronica and alternative pop.



It's in this festive spirit that the Club Nowadays project is born, a true embodiment of the collective's vision. Through its club compilations and evenings featuring label artists and outside guests.



Today, the label continues to chart its course with the release of Club Nowadays Vol. 6, a new opus in its series of compilations, which fully embodies its vision of club music. This sixth volume brings together emblematic figures of the label and emerging artists around the following dance tracks.



Don't Lie, the first single from the compilation, is a heartfelt track born of a broken heart, but turned towards the light. Mira Ló composed this track as an act of resilience, following a break-up in love. She transforms her pain into positive energy, hoping that everyone can recognize themselves in it and find a little sweetness to soothe their own grief.



R1D1 brings together his groovy house and garage influences to create the track Marsupilami around a hand-crafted synth, sharp drums and deep bass. Influenced by hip-hop beatmaking, he incorporates vocals from radio and interviews, transformed into rhythmic elements. The name, a nod to the famous character, comes naturally through the sampled “houba houba”. Between offbeat textures and assertive groove, the track embodies R1D1's singular, hybrid universe.



OOGO & Blanka, two pioneers of the label, offer us Phô Real, a hybrid track between soulful deep house and hip-hop groove, mixing organic and digital textures. A track to get the dancefloor moving, with a delicious nod to La Fine Équipe's culinary universe.



With Tracksuit & Loafers, Yambow creates a bridge between groovy French Touch elegance and the effervescent energy of UK house, in the tradition of producers like Salute and Oppidan. The track is conceived like an acid cocktail: funky, euphoric and dancefloor-friendly. The title is a nod to cultural contrasts - between English tracksuits and French loafers - which translate into a musical interplay between sophistication and fervor.



Finally, Laaanky, the Parisian producer, breaks codes and gives free rein to his passion for raw sound, efficiency and groove on the track Bloom. Between textured house, dub echoes and Afro-tinged post-dubstep rhythms, he explores a danceable, minimalist and percussive electronica. Less is more.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

"Prudência / Praga", or "Prudence / Plague", is a double single with these two songs that I composed and which were originally recorded by two of my heroes: Maria Bethânia and Alaíde Costa. Curiously, they are two sambas: although I come from the rock and roll scene in Sao Paulo, I wound up writing a samba as if it were the 50s. At the time of my first heartbreak, at the age of 17, I had the record Jamelao canta Lupicínio with the Orquestra Tabajara on my iPod, and I identified with those dramatic sorrows, almost a hundred years old. In a way, I felt that Lupicínio Rodrigues was bloody and direct, like Tarantino, and Nelson Cavaquinho, heavy metal like Black Sabbath. So, I feel it's a compact 45 of sambas but it's also very Rock n Roll to me. Raw and coming from hell. "Prudência" is that internal battle between the passionate side and the controlling side in the head of the former romantic bohemian. I wrote it for Bethânia to record on her album Noturno. Her version turned into a moving bolero. When I saw her singing it live and the audience singing along with her, I couldn't believe it. I cried, hidden in the audience. She said that when she showed the record to her brother, Caetano Veloso, he thought that "Prudência" was some old classic that she had dug up to bring back to light. Nothing could be a greater compliment than this mistake on Caetano's part. "Praga" also has to do with MPB heroes of mine that I never imagined I'd see up close or have any relationship with or any connection with. I was asked to write these lyrics in partnership with the main man Erasmo Carlos for Alaíde Costa's album! Surreal. Like many people, I got acquainted with Alaíde listening to "Clube da Esquina," her singing with Milton Nascimento. And the idea was to do a poisonous cabaret song samba. The curse of a woman who has dumped a drunk. I love it when Alaíde sings "BIBIDA" in her recording of the song_a total legend. I wanted to produce a kind of horror samba recording, because if it wasn't rock and roll, it wouldn't be much fun for me. I went over to Bielzinho's, and we recorded this chorus that explodes with the percussion and the choir of my friends Tulipa, Maria Beraldo, and Luiza Lian. This take of "Prudência" came from the unpretentiousness of recording two live sessions of the song with Fred Joseph with the cameras of the 70s' program "Ensaio" (MPB Especial) by the great Fernando Faro. The video take ended up being so unexpected and raw that it unseated the studio version, and that's what you hear on the single. The idea behind the video is a sort of this temporal mindfuck; like found lost tapes of the MPB Especial from the early the 70s. Same microphones, same cameras, that zoom_time travel. Between Mil Coisas Invisíveis, the end of the cycle with O Terno, and starting the new album process, I decided to take advantage of the respite to release this rock and roll 45 of sambas, without thinking too much or over-producing the thing. "Prudence? Don't talk to me about prudence!" ;) Tim Bernardes, 2025

An extremely rare Northern Soul 45 RPM single originally released in 1965 on the Holly label, Billy Arnell And The Sparkles "Tough Girl" was the product of two childhood friends that lived less than a block apart in suburban Fairlawn, New Jersey in the early 1960s - Billy Smith and Lou Hemsey.

Billy played guitar and sang; Lou played guitar and wrote songs, so they decided to form a band. They added friends Eddie Hoffman on organ and Jack Gullone on drums and began playing lots of gigs locally as Little Willie & The Sparkles. They were young, ambitious, and imagined themselves as the next Beatles. By a stroke of fate, they met Joe Martin of Apex-Martin Distributors in Newark, NJ, who caught the band's live show and was duly impressed. That meeting led to the recording session for the "Tough Girl" single. When they recorded the first version of the song, the producer wasn't happy, nor was Joe Martin - so he fired that producer and brought in the young, up and coming producer, George Kerr. Kerr didn't care much for the band, so they redid the entire thing without Hoffman and Guilone - with just Billy singing and Lou playing guitar.

The pair of old friends were buoyed by session aces Eric Gale on guitar, Bernard Purdie on drums, Bobbie Banks on organ, as well as a bass player whose name has been lost to time. In addition to those changes, they used the studio horn section that Hemsey arranged for, plus two trumpets, two saxes and two vibes players. The resulting single was an infectious amalgamation of rock and soul. Billy changed his surname to Arnell for the 45 release (because he thought it sounded more "show-biz") and the rest is pop history. Arnell later started a record company (Fire Sign Records) and purchased a recording studio (112 Greene Street Recording) in the trendy SoHo section of Manhattan with Steve Loeb.

As for the rest of The Sparkles, Hoffman became a teacher somewhere on Long Island, Guilone graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in Massachusetts and ended up living in Northern New Jersey. Hemsey became a well-known recording engineer, composer (Lou was the one who wrote "Tough Girl"), guitarist, arranger, orchestrator, editor, film director and producer for records and commercials.

Returning with its final instalments, Die Schachtel's Decay Music series extends its explorations of inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract with Luigi Turra and Elio Martusciello’s “Liminale” and Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, two astounding electroacoustic gestures of blurred space and time, plumbing complexity of meaning bound to sonority. Creatively groundbreaking and inspired, radically rethinking the terms of what ambient music can be perceived to be, they stand among the most striking efforts to appear within the series to date.

Reconfiguring the notion of bridge building on a multitude of terms, it feels fitting that the tenth and final installment of Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep”, was co-created by an artist whose work featured in the first suite of LPs issued by Brian Eno’s Obscure Records in 1975, the groundwork toward which Decay Music’s own efforts nod. Since that auspicious debut, “New and Rediscovered Musical Instruments” — his split with Max Eastley — David Toop has been regarded as a pioneer in British experimental and improvised music: a sonic voyager who has continuously challenged the sources and materiality of sound through rigorously thoughtful performances, a vast catalog of recordings, and a steady flow of highly influential texts. Be it as a member of Alterations, his group breaking group with Peter Cusack, Terry Day, and Steve Beresford that ran between 1977 to 1986, or through is noteworthy work with artists like Rie Nakajima, Thurston Moore, Paul Burwell, Rhodri Davies, Lee Patterson, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Akio Suzuki, Elaine Mitchener, and numerous others, collaboration has always played a central role within Toop’s singular practice, but few can claim the sprawling sense of beauty and intimacy that’s achieved by “And I Entered Into Sleep”, his first recorded outing with Sergio Armaroli.

A composer, percussionist, vibraphonist, and multidisciplinary artist, Armaroli has been issuing radical and forward-thinking musical gestures for decades, working as one of Italy’s most noteworthy interpreters of composer’s like Giacinto Scelsi, John Cage, Franco Evangelisti, Giancarlo Schiaffini, and Walter Branchi, as both a solo performer and member of the highly regarded Rib Trio, as well as forging a singular practice as a composer, intertwining his efforts as a painter, concrete percussionist, fragmentary poet and sound artist, within a total art, rooted “within the language of jazz and improvisation” as an “extension of the concept of art”. Like Toop, Armaroli’s career has been populated by many collaborators, notably with Riccardo Sinigaglia, Alvin Curran, and Walter Prati, among others, setting the stage for a remarkable meeting between the pair.

Featuring Armaroli on vibraphone and prepared vibraphone and Toop on electronics, “And I Entered Into Sleep” is “a sonic journey, a Proustian suggestion à la Recherche, into the unconscious between electronic and acoustic sounds”. Using a bell that sounds at the beginning of Proust’s “À la Recherché du Temps Perdu”, which reappears more than 3,000 pages later — signaling a transition of phases, as well an auditory trigger of memory — as a departure point, as an association to the percussive vibraphone pulses that thread the album’s two sides, the pair weave a striking interior world of immersive psychological depth. Feeling almost subaquatic at times, like captured glimpses of rumbling, shadowy ecosystems lost within murky ambiences, before washing ashore in a series of pointillistic, highly detailed alien landscapes of the mind, each artist’s markedly different sound-sources, and treatment of the subsequent material elements, dance in abstract grace, incorporating subtle nods to minimalism, free jazz, and musique concrète within its seamless total form of sparse texture and tone.

Easily one of the most striking and memorable releases by either artist to appear in recent years, Sergio Armaroli and David Toop’s “And I Entered Into Sleep” traverses uncharted realms at the borders of literary reference, sound art, ambience and abstraction through delicately musical sounds, revealing new depths at every turn. Issued as the tenth and final album in Die Schachtel’s Decay Music series, highlighting inspired contemporary experimental efforts of the ambient, ethereal, and emotively abstract.

“Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” This quote from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe sums up the lamenting, primal work that is "All That We See or Seem"; a project conceived between Finland, England and Brazil. The self-titled album consists of two long-form pieces of droning mysticism hailing from the trio of Gruth (concept, production, electronics), Ellen Southern (vocals, field recordings, percussion) and Johanna Puuperä (violin, modular synthesizer, additional vocals).

The album opens straight into a thousand yard stare with “Myrskymielellä", adapted from a 1891 poem by the Finnish national poet, Eino Leino, who wrote it at the tender age of 13. Here a blank distant droning of synths and the sounds of flowing water hover underneath like a dark river observed from the air. This is a sound and feeling that will stay constant for the entirety of the piece´s thirty minute duration. It is a trance-inducing composition that slowly unfolds elements of pagan ancestry into its own life. At first, faint female vocals are introduced as distant spatial elements, which gradually advance into waves of cries and anguish as the piece progresses and moves further into the storm. The tranquility of the first half is slowly morphed into a full blown ceremony as driving ritualistic percussion and a foreboding witch-like presence shifts the piece into a Dead Can Dance-like territory. Here a constant enveloping mixture of violins, modular synths, field recordings and vocal screams creates the feeling of a grande finale. It is an astounding piece of music that develops like a drone symphony for the beginning of time.

With the second piece, “A Dream Within A Dream”, from Edgar Allan Poe´s 1849 poem, you are transported to the shores of an undisclosed island; a place where it´s only you, your thoughts and the endless emptiness. The continual sound of waves is soon brought together with a cloud of synths and mourning violins that will keep a steady dreamlike state during most of the piece´s duration. This time the wordless vocals feel almost angelic in their pageantry. The composition flows like a slow caress of the soul and feels like the spirit twin of Gavin Bryars' “The Sinking of the Titanic” with its lamenting slow movements towards the unknown.

Truly a ghost of a record, “All That We See or Seem” is an experience hard to shake and feels like entering sacred ground. We are in a place surrounded by earth, both ancient and present. "Let loose, Vanha, the rage of an earthly storm! Detach the elements, completely open the sky! In the Earth, let an incessant storm prevail, so that in my chest I would not feel the miserable pain” - Eino Leino

Jessica93, prodigal bastard of our glorious french squat scene, relocated on Born Bad : this is no picnic. Geoffroy Laporte, alone against all odds, alternates bass and guitar to build harsh loops with a drum machine spitting pre-Gulf War patterns. That’s where it gets tricky : every musical posse claims him. Grunge, sure, but Jessica doesn’t indulge in necrophilia. His circuit is punk, he doesn’t dress the part though. Cold wave, the atmosphere fits somehow, but the gear does not. The self-confident rock horde saw him playing with hair in his eyes… but he never joined the Party. Metal had something to say but sadly, nobody listened. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and let Jessica93 cook his great misery broth on her own, called « 666 tours de périph’ » (666 laps on the beltway). Witnessing Jessica93 live makes you dread that he'll get up the next morning, drive 200 miles and one nap later kick it again, when it takes us a good week to recover from the bad half of that same evening. Like so many other unknown soldiers during our very own world war of music, he patrols small venues relentlessly.



At the heart of this cultural pentacle painted by french weirdos Bryan's Magic Tears, and Carine Krinator, Jessica93 has built a sound validated by years of chosen vagrancy, birthing bands with joyously stupid monikers, in the humid jungle of small labels. Jessica93's debut album had a track celebrating Omar Little, HBO’s gay bandit from Baltimore. This story begins on the beltway, where Florence Rey, accidental copkiller turned to political icon of the 90’s. Geoffroy offers his brilliant analysis : " C’est la police qui nous tire d’ssus / C’est mon trou d’balle qui leur chie d’ssus « (Police shoots us down / my dripping asshole gets the job done).



A previous album was haunted by bedbugs, this one is essentially about love, a delicious scourge just as hard to eradicate. Two black diamonds peek out of the LP : ’’La colline du crack’’, heartbreak song about the ultimate temptation of violent delights, located on crackhead central in Paris. The brilliant chorus, ‘Take my hand and come with me to Crack Hill’ will put an end to the rumours, almost everything was really false. And Bébé Requin, alternative obituary that’ll make you shiver, where our nice couple states ‘’on kiffe la drogue dure et les ptits chiens’ (‘we love hard drugs and little dogs’). And that is the reason we face the wall of sound jostled by unnecessary shoulder thrusts: those nice fat chunks of charcoal poetry, hidden under light sarcasm.



The rest of the record demonstrates the know-how acquired in loop-by-loop construction of ruins that are pleasant to squat in together. There’s your classic doom delicatessen, with bits of heavy metal inside, crafted with the manic care typical of hard wankers. Arthur Satàn, who produced and mixed the album at home in Bordeaux, helped him get his head out of the reverb safe house. And Jessica93 took the opportunity to switch to the dark side of the language : french at last. Worth the wait ! Sing along : « nique sa mère / nique sa grosse mère » (translate that yourself).

Belgian singer-songwriter Emma Hessels releases her debut EP 'Constant Distance' on October 24 via Unday Records. With a voice that lingers long after the song has ended and lyrics that feel like pages torn from a diary, Hessels has quickly carved out her place in the Belgian scene. She was named laureate of Sound Track in 2023, went on to play intimate yet arresting sets at Ancienne Belgique, Botanique, and the prestigious Cirque Royal, and appeared at Best Kept Secret this summer.

Milestones that signaled the arrival of a singular new voice in folk and soul.

'Constant Distance' gathers six songs bound by a recurring undercurrent: the presence of distance in its many forms - absence, longing, loneliness, the fear of loss, but also the desire for belonging. The songs weren't conceived around a single theme, but when brought together, a pattern revealed itself. Loss implies distance, longing implies distance, even love can. Yet the EP closes on 'Breaking', a gospel-tinged anthem of connection and alignment, written during a women's writer's retreat where community and music became inseparable.

Musically, 'Constant Distance' moves between folk and soul, carrying the feel of modern blues and occasionally leaning into gospel's call-and-response. The atmosphere is warm and nostalgic, drawing inspiration from Laura Marling, Damien Rice and Big Thief as much as from Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone and Richie Havens. Emma's voice remains the constant thread: soulful, unforced, quietly commanding. "I hope my songs can be like a warm blanket, something that keeps you company, that makes you feel a little less alone."

Though written solo on guitar, often during long train rides, the songs expanded into layered productions through collaboration with Aram Santy, Nard Houdmeyers and Fender Mackenson Rooms, with additional contributions such as Marthe van Droogenbroeck's evocative trumpet. Recorded over two intense days at Studio Beertje, the EP captures both intimacy and expansiveness. The result is music that carries the weight of Emma's fears and questions, but also the joy of collective creation.

With 'Constant Distance', Emma Hessels doesn't just deliver a debut - she opens a world where fragility and strength coexist, and where music becomes a way of closing the gap between people.

2025 Repress

FINALLY! The very first commercial release of two legendary remixes of Arthur Russell's "In The Light Of The Miracle". Both are widely regarded as transcendent masterpieces and very much befitting of the title “holy grails”.

These long-beloved mixes are the types you'd wish would last for eternity. With almost 30 minutes of music here, we very nearly get our desires granted. At last, these jaw-dropping mixes are widely available to every Arthur fan in the world. This is musical perfection.

The deep Loft classic "In The Light Of The Miracle" remained unreleased during Arthur's lifetime, finally discovered when Phillip Glass included the original version on Another Thought on Point Music in 1993. As Steve Knutson told us, when Another Thought was being put together, the plan was to release a companion album of remixes that was overseen by Steve D'Aquisto but the project only got as far as these two remixes of "In The Light Of The Miracle".

Some dodgy scans of some centre label designs suggest that Point Music might’ve been planning to release these on a 12" but it didn’t happen. The story goes that Gilles Peterson heard the remixes on a visit to the Point Music offices and wanted to release them on Talkin’ Loud. We’re not sure how many white label copies made it out into the wild, but again, these remixes didn’t make it to a proper release.

These remixes both extend and undeniably enhance the original, elevating it to new heights. The 13 minute remix on the A-side is by Danny Krivit & Tony Smith with editing duties performed by Tony Morgan. As ever with Arthur, the music is almost impossible to describe: is it Disco? Garage House? Avant Garde? None of these tags do full justice to its sheer majesty. You best just listen. Stretching out the original with some unbelievably great percussive elements, until we're in a deeply spiritual, otherworldly realm, it's just too beautiful for words. As many have claimed, it's the prototype for EVERYTHING.

The "Ponytail Club Mix (Part 1 & 2)", produced by Tony Morgan in the mid-90s, is in a more up-tempo style, with vocals higher in the mix, the BPM upped to 120 and the addition of a housey 4/4 kick drum. A 14 minute epic, you could say this is a more straight ahead "club-friendly" mix (but can things ever be that straightforward with Arthur?!) It also has some really interesting vocal parts not used in the other versions, including some vocals from guest poet Allen Ginsberg.

These remixes are part of the same original project that also produced the Another Thought album so it seems only right that they have a sleeve that matches. Thanks again to Janette Beckman for letting us use another of her photos of Arthur and the rest of the design follows what Margery Greenspan, Tina Lauffer and Michael Klotz did for Another Thought back in 1994.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year.

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited first time vinyl run of 2020's Music For Desert Reboot tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year.

As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled 'First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent' that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? Music For Desert Reboot might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

Fresh off producing a seminal documentary about the origin story of Portuguese rave culture, Shcuro returns to his mother tongue, music, to give us four slices of fresh yet classic Lisbon underground flavour right as the summer sets in. 'Echo Chamber' EP, Para?so's 17th outing, comes with two equally excellent remixes separated by the atlantic: Brooklyn's MoMA Ready and Berlin's Mareena. Side A starts with two tracks first blueprinted this past year as Shcuro prepared a new live set. 'No Expectations' opens the record with a high-paced sweat-breaker that elegantly evokes early rave culture as stabs, funk and feelings abound. A2 'Persistence' follows suit with the work that exudes proficiency: sound design, dub techno learnings and masterful layering all conspire to create a moment of pure techno draw. Closing side A, 'Deviation' pulls some of the previous track's energy even though it's a rework from the artist's earlier unreleased catalogue: another sign that we're talking realness here. Clever percussion and refreshing washes drive us well into dubby territories. 'Suspension' opens the B side, picking up where it left off with the last original: a beautifully produced piece with fleeting mutating stabs that seem to swim alongside us in an imaginary oceanic dancefloor. Liquid, refreshing sensorial motifs seem to underpin this record and that spirit spills into the remix pack, starting off with MoMA Ready's take on 'Persistence', bringing out the rawness in the original while adding a special sauce with Robert Hood-like funky yet minimalistic bleep work. Tresor's Mareena steps in for a centered, dancefloor-geared - but still mysterious - twist on 'Deviation', perfectly rounding up the record with the expertise of a club resident.

Off The Record (faitiche 39), the new album by French collagist Roméo Poirier, is an amusing romp through the discarded history of recording studios. It contains fourteen miniatures based on accidental recordings of studio talk, revealing things that were never meant for the public: we hear instructions from studio staff, scraps of talk between musicians, or just microphones being adjusted, as well as false notes, false starts: everyone stops. Start again: 1, 2, 3, 4!

Poirier’s approach recalls Accumulation, an artform practiced by Arman, Jean Tinguely and Daniel Spoerri that involved piling up everyday items into assemblages. The objects themselves often remained unaltered, the artistic gesture consisting in the careful curating of a distinctive selection. Poirier’s audio collages explore similar terrain. The fourteen pieces on Off the Record combine more than a thousand found sounds from studio archives into complex miniatures. The audio content of these outtakes is twisted, stretched, cut, reassembled, slowed down and accelerated. Voices cut into a microgroove, from a very old recording, intertwine with digital voices gleaned from YouTube. All of them in dialogue, engaging the listener with the impression of being part of a new music group.

Poirier uses the mundane routine of setting up before the actual recording gets underway to tell a universal story about working in a recording studio. And he manages something few achieve, transforming specialist knowledge into a narrative whose beauty goes far beyond its immediate subject. It speaks to everyone, because the story is told in a musical language that is open and accessible, evoking magical images reminiscent of Oz – a world consisting less of events than of camp hallucinations, captured in grainy black-and-white photographs. En passant, Poirier shows us how the notion of material accumulation can produce great art.

Written and produced by Roméo Poirier, mastered by Stephan Mathieu, photos by Roméo Poirier, graphic design by Tim Tetzner.

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.

The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.

Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.

More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.

In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.

Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.

Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

First time reissue of this French cold-wave / minimal-synth treasure.



November 1981 – In the heart of autumn, we set off in two cars along the Nationale 1 (!) to reach Choisy-le-Roi, where a 16-track studio was waiting for us—a place where, over the course of a weekend, we would finally be able to carve our own grooves into vinyl. We were quite nervous, as Guerre Froide had already been around for a year and a half. Our elders in Kas Product had already released two EPs—one with four tracks, the other with three—in 1980, even though they’d started only a few months before us. Admittedly, there wasn’t really a sense of urgency—some of us came from the punk movement, where the prevailing mood was still very much No Future, even if we’d long since stopped believing in it... And yet others had truly lost everything, like those from the generation before us. The reasons, ironically, were often the same: heroin and/or love—hard drugs, in both cases.

Speaking of which, I had a terrible stomach ache—due to nerves or some form of tension—which forced us to make a pit stop in the Oise region so I could rush to the toilet of a local café. That same stomach discomfort would hit me again once we arrived at the studio—whose name, incidentally, I’ve since forgotten...

We had gotten there thanks to the generous initiative of a friend, Sylvain S., known as “Perlin” (what a phonetic coincidence!?), who had specifically created the Stechak Products label to produce our record. Stechak because it was consistent with his earlier association called Tchernoziom, and Products as a plural tribute to the trailblazers from Nancy.

Guerre Froide originally consisted of four members: Fabrice Fruchart on guitar-synth (Korg MS-20), Patrick Mallet on bass, and Gilbert Deffais, known as “Bébert”, on Korg drum machine. At the time, I was already singing in a rock/post-punk band called Stress, and that’s how Guerre Froide picked up the bad habit of rehearsing in the same basement in Amiens as Stress. Within a month or two, we had half a dozen songs. We then had the opportunity to record a 4-track demo with a friend from Radio France Picardie, and to perform in October at a festival held at the Amiens municipal circus. Then came the now-legendary concert on November 11 at B.J.’s Club. After that, we self-produced and released 50 completely DIY copies of a cassette titled Cicatrice. A few concerts later—after Jean-Michel Bailleux had joined us on bass and Patrick had switched to guitar, which felt more natural to him—and with more concrete plans starting to take shape, we had to find a new rehearsal space and start renting a room.

Then came the moment when Fabrice told us he was leaving to go study in Lille... After the June 19, 1981 concert, which was naturally dubbed “Farewell to 2F,” Marie-José, Bébert’s wife, offered to take over on synth.

That’s when Perlin, who was a close friend of the Deffais couple and a great fan of our music, offered to fully finance the production of a 4-track 12-inch EP—covering the studio time, mastering, pressing, and artwork. What up-and-coming band would have turned that down? An improvised contract was signed with each member of Guerre Froide. The first step was choosing which four songs we would record. Berlin 81 was an obvious pick, having already become the group’s flagship track. We wanted to avoid reusing songs from Cicatrice, so the focus shifted to new material—some written before, some after Fabrice’s departure. Ersatz, for example, was his composition, but Mauve and Peine Perdue, which were also selected, were both written by Patrick.

his ultimate 6LP Boxset presents the works of Pascal Comelade from 1984 to 2024 and his 40 years producing instrumental music. Each vinyl has been thought as an album in itself , with its own identity, that could be listened as it is. According to the artist, "Improperies- compositions et enregistrements magnétiques (1984-2024)" is a music puzzle which doesn't obey to any rule with the exception of Pascal Comelade's creation and art thoughts that kept moving over the years.
Limited numbered to 500 copies - 6 x Black Vinyl in spineless sleeve, heawyweight cardboard slipcase/custod numbered at the back, includes an insert-photo signed by the artist. The boxset artwork is an original creation by Miquel Barceló.

West coast writer / producer George Semper recorded four sides on the Sherilles − a group led by Vessie Simmons, who had been lead singer for the Ribbons in the early 60s. She would go on to have a prolific solo career in the 70s, right through to the 90s. Ace sleuth Alec Palao found four Semper-produced sides on two DCT acetates and we licensed the rights from the Semper family.

These fully realised recordings are from 1968 when the group had to swiftly change their name from the attempted one of the Shirelles − which they had hoped to get away with, and presumably cash in on that outfit’s fame. A court injunction put paid to that plan and though the name change was only slight, it was never tested in court, as the tracks were never issued. ‘Nobody’s Gonna Love You’ is an excellent George Semper song and judging by the 100 Club’s audience reaction to recent plays will become a staple of forward-thinking club’s playlists.

‘Make It On My Own’ is in the same groove and not far short of the A side. Vessie would re-write and re- record it in 1975 as ‘I Can Make It On My Own’ for a solo release on her Simco label.

Pratts & Payne, the South London pub that sits around the corner from the famed home studio of producer Dan Carey, has an important place in the history of Royel Otis. When making their debut album with Carey in early 2023, the Australian duo - childhood friends Otis Pavlovic and Royel Maddell - would decamp to the pub to finish lyrics and make decisions on the direction of their first LP. "Dan would ask us to record vocals," Royel remembers, "and we'd say, 'Just give us half an hour, we're popping to Pratts & Payne', and we'd have a pint, a few shots, and get some lyrics down." Eventually, it made such a mark that they named the record PRATTS & PAIN. Across the debut album, Royel Otis swing between melodic, pop- inspired indie and woozy psych, but it never feels tied to one lane. As soon as one style or mood has outstayed its welcome, they handbrake turn into psychedelic weirdness or dissonant noise, keeping everybody on their toes. After the table was laid on the two EPs, PRATTS & PAIN brings everything from the band's history together on a record that's reverent towards their beginnings but unafraid to push forwards into new sounds. This loose, open formula for what makes a Royel Otis song is written all over PRATTS & PAIN, an album defined by its sense of fun and adventure. On the tracks 'Velvet' and 'Big Ciggie', Carey's 11-year-old nephew Archie appears on drums, and a spontaneous energy ran through the sessions, one which can be heard across the album. On first single 'Adored', they master the perfect indie-pop hit, while 'Sonic Blue' keeps this underlying energy but sets screeching guitars over the top. 'Velvet', meanwhile, has the stomping energy of Talking Heads, while 'Molly' is an unsettling and deeply atmospheric slow jam. Whatever sonic template the music might be based on though, the crux of Royel Otis comes back to a foundational DNA of mutual trust. Royel says: "We have fun together, and it's not difficult. I trust what Otis thinks and what he does, and I back it. If you back each other, something good comes from it."