Suche:ultimate state

John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.

*Long overdue reissue of the first album by The Hanging Stars to coincide with their tour support slot with Edwyn Collins – initial 300 copies come with 12 x 12 print*

“In late-Sixties California, the Byrds and Flying Burrito Brothers combined traditional country music with hippy rock to great success. The influence lingered and whatever cultural relevance it has this is a delightful, transporting listen” – The Times 4/5

London-based psych-folk outfit The Hanging Stars re-release their much-loved debut album Over the Silvery Lake on Crimson Crow. Blending folk pastoralism with swampy 60s Americana, they sound like the missing link between the California desert sun and the grey skies of London Town. The album was recorded between LA, Nashville and Walthamstow, with each of these vastly different places leaving an indelible mark on the songs.

Now signed to the Loose Records label and fronted by London-based songwriter, singer and guitarist Richard Olson (The See See, Eighteenth Day of May), The Hanging Stars are essentially a loose collective of people who weave together a blissed-out psychedelic tapestry. The rest of the core band is made up of Sam Ferman on bass and Paulie Cobra on drums, Horse on pedal steel and Patrick Ralla on banjo, guitar. They jam rather than write and hang out rather than rehearse, harnessing a kind of tipsy euphoria resplendent with luscious arrangements and glorious vocal harmonies.

During 2015, prior to this album’s original release the band released two critically acclaimed singles via The Great Pop Supplement (both of which also appear on the album). “Golden Vanity” was premiered by The Line of Best Fit who said; “you'd be forgiven for thinking you'd just unearthed a rare deep cut from the late 60s/early 70s boom of psychedelia infused Americana” and “The House on The Hill” was described by The Guardian as; "a hazy, desert-dream of a song, nicely sharpened with steely-eyed guitars, Mersey-laced harmonies and just a whiff of the Gun Club”.

There are a number of allusions to nature and the weather on the album, borne in part out of the contrasting surroundings in which it was produced. The band’s fascination with Americana led them to record some of the material Stateside, laying down some of the parts at Battle Tapes Studios in Nashville (Lambchop, Paperhead), as well as at Vision Quest Studios in Los Angeles with Rob Campanella. His work with The Quarter After, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Beachwood Sparks The Tyde, and GospelbeacH was a perfect match to capture their sound and they even had San Franciscan legend Chrystof Certik step in on lead guitar for a couple of tracks.

Following the LA recordings, a trip to the Californian desert provided the core notion of what they wanted to produce - a shard of light that they clung on to whilst recording the rest of the album in the significantly more rain-soaked atmosphere of Walthamstow, London, under the watchful eye of Brian O'Shaughnessy at Bark Studios (The Clientele, Comet Gain). As the band explained at the time: “Ultimately we hope you can hear both the sand and the rain in this record.”

The Hanging Stars place themselves firmly as part of a long folk tradition encompassing European and North American influences – as a continuation rather than a pastiche of these styles. This is the sound of a band really coming in to their own, fully formed and in no doubt of their vision. With Over the Silvery Lake they succeeded in producing a record, which has the country, blues and folk traditions at its heart.

Blaney describes A Room With A Door That Closes as “a love letter to her blue,” an emotional state that she defines as “a kinetic, intense, and dark energy that needs to be expressed as soon as it is felt.” The eleven songs on the album span radioactive kiss offs, sorrowful meditations on yearning, and gossamer reveries about self image.

The music has a fittingly tumultuous, intricate sound: 1960s soul samples melt into warm drum n bass percussion, blips of glitch ping pong against grating synth, and Blaney’s vocals range from searing punk exclamations to gentle, exploratory croons. It’s the sound of a singer peering deeply within herself and presenting the world with everything she finds, unadulterated, in real time. Blaney produced the new project along with a tight team of three producers: Emerson Fossett, Harlan Steed (Show Me The Body), and Alex Farrar (MJ Lenderman, Wednesday, Squirrel Flower, Snail Mail).

Blaney had just started playing guitar and producing around the time she began writing the songs that would become the album. Being new to both producing and guitar playing opened up a sense of exploration and freedom for her. She felt emboldened to employ more adventurous riffs and unconventional song arrangements when she was writing. A Room With A Door That Closes is a collection of songs that rigorously pursue honesty, that present feelings as they arise without rushing to categorise them or explain them away. In the process of understanding her rage or discomfort, Blaney often lands on a sense of pride and assurance, but that’s never the ultimate goal. She eschews the easy comfort of neat resolution for the excitement of ongoing discovery. The album is an exercise in unfiltered self-expression, and a celebration of life at its messiest.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

It’s very difficult to describe someone as prolific as Misha Panfilov. So, I feel the best way to define him is to think of a “Trivial Pursuit Playing Piece,” where each pie piece represents one of the bands he heads up, and each band has its own distinct style and genre. Yet, when looked at all together, create the whole musical persona of Misha. This is the lens I would like to view his latest endeavor, Days As Echoes.

The vibe on this sophomore release channels Krautrock philosophy and Library music, peppered with elements of jazz, Ethiopian, cinema, ambient and bits of everything between. This atmosphere is created from all the instruments Misha uses and the resulting compositions are heard as repetitive patterns that are forged from the multiple layering of melodies. Thus, creating six unique songs with emotional granularity, yet collectively encompass a genuinely positive “feel good” vibe…with a hint of nostalgia.

Moods of the day, moods like echoes say, A future of hope is yours, by following the Sun’s ray.

The opening track, “Days As Echoes,” is a dedication to a much simpler time when the sky was bluer and the snow was whiter…just like how you remember it when you were a child. A time when people honestly cared more about everything as a given, and not as a selfish accolade. A time when optimism seemed within reach. In other words, nostalgia marred by awareness.

…Leading to a path where the skies are not gray. Where dreams of castles in the air are the mainstay.

“In A Dream” has a style that pays homage to both spiritual jazz and ambient music. A simple theme is introduced and leads to the climax of this stormy dream, putting it all in perspective. That pivotal point when one realizes the truth by re-tracing the events, which led to the epiphany of how to find the answer while traveling within this airy soundscape.

…Diurnal or nocturnal, day or night, Traveling the path of truth must be done without fright.

One can’t help but feel a definite traveling vibe that comes from “Moonscape Waltz” To me, it has a dual-characteristic that can be visualized as a train trip, either at sunrise or sunset. Regardless, the time is not of major relevance, but the actual pursuit is. Lao Tzu said, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with that first step.” This track takes you beyond that initial step into this vast world toward your destination as you search for the truth.

…The unknown is real, but you know the deal. People need people to show which direction you point the wheel.

“Together” is the most peaceful and solo oriented compositions of this album. It shows how one cannot achieve happiness alone, but the importance of having someone special or a group of others to help along the way. Not only to help seek your goal, but also the ability to enjoy the scenery while on your journey

…The end of this tunnel has a light that’s so bright. Illuminating the trodden way, your destination, now in sight.

One is free from the chains of the unknown as you listen to a “Few Layers For Smith”, a dedication to a friend. A song that draws energy from the ECM works of Steve Reich, thats married with a primitive lo-fi basement setting. Its positive force breaks those encumbrances and gives you a glimpse of your prize. But you ruminate on this and come to the conclusion that the path that led you there is equally important as the goal itself. Question is, how do you share your realizations and experiences?

…The route was cast, the trials have passed. The glittering treasure you sought is yours now, at last.

“Ocean Song” meanders from the ritual rhythms of its shoreline to the crashing riptides of unbridled guitar feedback, creating this raging ocean atmosphere. However, its message is quite clear and states that people’s goals and experiences are not just meant for personal growth, but to be shared with
others, so that they too can live vicariously thru your story and somehow utilize it for their own.

…The prize has been won, but the journey is never done. You now have the responsibility to share everything under the Sun.

These six songs, each with its own sound, collectively comprise the vibe of this album. One cannot help but feel a sense of joy and fulfillment when listening to it. Each song has its own unique mood, yet together create an atmosphere of hope and happiness that has no choice but to spill out of the listener. I feel this was the ultimate goal of Misha’s on this record. Quite a challenge for the man who never sleeps, but is always searching for the perfect beat. One may not fully grasp his musical mind, but this album does give you a gateway into the moods and magic of Misha!

- Brent Sawicki

Experience the Double-Platinum 1996 Album in Audiophile Sound for the First Time
Mobile Fidelity’s Numbered-Edition 180g 45RPM 2LP Set Is Sourced from the Original Analogue Tapes
1/2” / 30 IPS analogue master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

If great art, as many believe, is inherently polarizing, then the Stone Temple Pilots’ Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop easily ranks as the California-based band’s finest album. Simultaneously celebrated and castigated upon release in spring 1996, the group’s third full-length finds vocalist Scott Weiland and company expanding their “grunge” palette with a smart blend of glam rock, psychedelia, jangle pop, and other related styles. Having benefited from long-view reassessments that shed the biases and meanness of initial criticisms, the double-platinum effort is now largely and rightly seen as a creative masterwork. All the more reason why it deserves reference-grade production.

Overseen by producer Brendan O’Brien, Stone Temple Pilots used bedrooms, hallways, bathrooms, and the lawn to capture a broad blend of textures, spaciousness, and ambience that helped underline the group’s obvious (and somewhat unexpected) leap from normal “alternative” status to an artist whose aspirations went beyond that of many of its contemporaries. You can hear the multitude of details and tonalities with previously unattained clarity, presence, and scope on this fantastic reissue, which also delivers the impact and punch every rock record deserves. Another tremendous asset: The depth, grain, and pitch of Weiland’s voice.

For all the contagious choruses and glossy melodies that help make Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sparkle, the vocal performances of the late singer arguably rank as the best that the much-missed Weiland committed to tape. None other than the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan — who, like many peers and critics, felt a pressing need to reevaluate the record as both time marched on and the self-importance attached to the “alternative” scene faded — praised Weiland’s efforts by noting: “Like Bowie can and does, it was Scott's phrasing that pushed his music into a unique, and hard to pin down, aesthetic sonicsphere.”

Smooth and diverse, those traits are everywhere on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop. From the clever combination of emotional closeness and distance he brings to the catchy albeit ultimately melancholic “Lady Picture Show”; to the lounge-fly balladeering that causes “And So I Know” to lightly swing akin to a bleary-eyed house band’s final number at a 4 A.M. bar; to the effortless cool and laissez-faire casualness he articulates on the grinding “Pop’s Love Suicide”; to the dimensional raspiness, defiant energy, and let-loose wail that sail through the crunchy “Big Bang Baby.”

The latter tune, the record’s first single and per Weiland a conscious attempt by the band to deconstruct its prior approaches, clearly borrows from the Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Because of it, the song drew all kinds of barbs from naysayers. Their disdain extended to most material on Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, which indirectly references other prized acts such as the Beatles, Cheap Trick, T. Rex, and Lush. Those cynics failed to grasp that Stone Temple Pilots were paying homage and having a blast, with even Weiland, then battling serious substance-abuse and legal issues, getting in on the action.

Stone Temple Pilots’ skeptics also turned a deaf ear to the records’ stellar pop craftsmanship, sticky hooks, and sly commentary on music-industry machinations and fame. Not to mention the band’s intent, made clear from the outset. In an interview conducted in 1994, guitarist Robert DeLeo stated: “The last thing I wanted to do with this band was make everybody believe we invented something.”

Seen through that lens and the hindsight afforded history, and appreciated independent of the self-righteous authenticity standards of the day, Tiny Music… Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop sounds borderline fearless while authoritatively checking all the right boxes for fun, flavor, and finesse. Part winking send-up, part tribute to the glitter rock age, and part middle finger towards the hip crowd that didn’t know what they were missing, this mid-90s classic repeatedly invites you to drop the needle and press play.

State Change is the riveting new album from composer and performer Molly Joyce, out July 11, 2025 via FatCat Records’ 130701 imprint. Blending influences ranging from the 20th century modernist lineage to the spectral drones of Andy Stott, Missy Mazzoli, and Nico Muhly, State Change draws unflinchingly from the medical record of a childhood trauma for seven electro-acoustic tone poems — stark and oppressive in its medical aesthetic, yet ultimately cathartic and healing. Joyce crafted the album with Grammy-winning producer William Brittelle largely at Figure 8 Studios with engineer Michael Hammond.

When Joyce was seven years old, she was involved in a car accident that nearly amputated her left hand and required many intensive surgeries; to this day, her hand is still impaired. Joyce pushed through this life change, and over the past eight years, her reputation has swelled as one of her generation’s most daring, conceptually driven composers.

Joyce’s 2020 debut for New Amsterdam Records, Breaking and Entering, ruminated on this seismic shift in pieces for toy organ, voice, and electronic sampling of both sources. The New York Times noted her music’s “serene power”; The Washington Post described her as “one of the most versatile, prolific and intriguing composers working under the vast new-music dome.” Pitchfork lauded her 2022 album Perspective — a sonic portrait of disability built from interview recordings, also released on New Amsterdam — as “a powerful work of love and empathy that underscores the poison of ableism in American culture.”

It has been almost seven years since the release of Alpestres, the impressive debut by Matthias Puech on Hands in the Dark. While that first experience took us on a mystical journey through fascinating fictional landscapes, 'Cabanes' lets its narrative unfold in a confined space: eight pieces each resembling small structures or makeshift shelters that, while enveloping and isolating the listener, remain open to their surroundings. These are not merely interiors; they are handcrafted spaces through which we gain insights into the world. Yet they allow the light from the outside to seep in, reminding us of reality.

According to Puech, each composition has a distinctive two-part story that are both clear and intriguingly interconnected. The first one often revolves around the anecdotal and tangible aspects of instrumental "play," showcasing a technical exploration with his tools, the discovery of sounds in a library, and the serendipitous encounters that inspired them. The second part, however, delves into the more elusive yet profound state of existence that the French artist experienced while engaging with these sounds, reflecting on the moments he listened and re-listened to them, ultimately deeming them worthy life companions. These two narratives, perhaps reshaped over time like distant memories, interact in ways that can either clash or complement each other, creating a lasting impact on the listening experience.

A significant aspect of the compositional process involves distancing oneself from these connections to creation, allowing for the rediscovery of a state of listening that is free from prior emotional influences—what one might call "pure" listening. This method enables the transformation of a sequence of events into a narrative that is independent of its original intent, resulting in a universal object. After spending considerable time with the attached pieces and attempting to induce a form of amnesia to reconstruct an artificial narrative, Matthias Puech has ultimately chosen to relinquish this pursuit. Thus, the album is aptly termed “Cabanes” (“Huts”): fragile structures whose design clearly reflects the intention behind their creation, showcasing all the signs of considerate craftsmanship.

YES! Originally released in 2000, Mark de Clive-Lowe's Six Degrees captures the early essence of what would later be known as broken beat, club-jazz and future soul; bridging the sounds of 70s jazz-fusion, jungle, hip-hop, house and Afro-Cuban rhythms. With fender rhodes, synths and an MPC2000 at the core of his production, de Clive-Lowe blended live musicianship with beat-driven sensibilities in a way that was ahead of its time.

Originally released in New Zealand via Kog Transmissions, the album found its way onto the global stage when Universal Jazz UK picked it up. Now, 25 years later, Be With is proud to present a special anniversary vinyl reissue, celebrating a landmark album that laid the foundation for an international career spanning continents, collaborations, and countless musical evolutions. Limited to just 400 copies for the world, these are gonna fly.

In 1998, a 23-year-old Mark de Clive-Lowe set off on a year-long journey that would shape his career and musical identity. Fuelled by an insatiable curiosity and a grant from New Zealand supporting emerging artists, he traveled across the globe — digging through record stores in San Francisco, immersing himself in the rhythms of Havana, collaborating in London’s underground studios and experiencing the jazz legacy of New York. Along the way, he crossed paths with pioneers, mentors and kindred spirits who would deeply influence his sound.

Six Degrees is the sonic diary of that transformative year — a musical world tour distilled into one groundbreaking album. It's both a snapshot of a pivotal moment in de Clive-Lowe’s life and a timeless statement of creative exploration.

The jazzy jungle vibes of "Roundtrip" opens proceedings, inspired by de Clive-Lowe's deep love of drum & bass. It kicks off with a rhythm pattern picked up in Havana, combined with Lonnie Liston Smith-style Rhodes textures and a rolling jungle breakbeat. Sublime. Up next, "La Zorra" is a moving tribute to the folkloric 6/8 rhythms he was surrounded by in Cuba. Afro-Cuban music had a huge impact on his sound and this track reflects those deep grooves brilliantly. Hip-hop has also been a major influence since de Clive-Lowe's teenage years and Manuel Bundy’s scratches bring an essential turntable element to "Melodious Funk", giving it that raw boom-bap edge.

Underground favourite "El Día Perfecto" came about by de Clive-Lowe wanting to write something as catchy as Incognito’s "Colibri", combined with his deep love for Lonnie Liston Smith. Effortless as it sounds, it pretty much wrote itself, seemingly. "Cosmic Echoes" is a nod to house music, but on the chiller side. Named after Lonnie Liston Smith’s band, with bouncy bass, a steady 4/4 groove and chopped tabla percussion, the mood this track conjures up is special. The deeply soulful "Day By Day" became the biggest track from the album, partly thanks to DJ Spinna’s remix and Café del Mar featuring it on their compilation. Cherie Mathieson’s vocals shine here. The lyric came to de Clive-Lowe while hanging out at Cause Célèbre in Auckland: “Day by day, side by side, hand in hand, no turning back.”

"Restless" is a jazz-funk jam built on a classic drum break, heavily influenced by Roy Ayers and the Mizell Brothers. Named in homage to Phil Asher’s Restless Soul moniker, his impact on de Clive-Lowe's journey can’t be overstated. Following on, "Mindscape" is a darker, rawer drum & bass track. The chopped-up drum break and moody synths channel everything he loved about the deeper, more atmospheric side of the genre. "Control" continues the jungle influence — this one’s all about the heavy grooves and deep bass, inspired by nights out listening to Jumping Jack Frost and Grooverider in packed basement clubs.

"Por La Mañana" is a musical snapshot of walking the Malecón in Havana in the morning sun. The city had such a profound impact on de Clive-Lowe and this track captures some of that energy and movement. Penultimate gem "Motherland" is a nod to his Japanese heritage. The melody draws from Japanese scales, shifting between moody introspection and uplifting harmony. Built on a chopped live drum break he recorded in Tokyo years earlier. We end with "El Día Perfecto (Reprise)", a stripped-down reprise featuring percussion, vocoder, Rhodes and synths — leaving the listener with a warm, uplifting final moment.

Speaking to Be With, de Clive Lowe explained just how much celebrating the 25-year anniversary of this album means to him: "Since then, I’ve released so much more music, but Six Degrees still resonates — it captures a really special moment in my life. A turning point, a fork in the road that ultimately changed everything. It’s amazing to reflect on where this journey has taken me, and I’m incredibly grateful for it. I still remember the night I finished "El Día Perfecto". I took a minidisc of it to my friend Cian’s DJ set at Galatos in Auckland. He plugged it in, and I watched the dancefloor move to something I’d just created hours earlier — it was a magical moment.

When Six Degrees was first released, the internet was still in its early days. There was no YouTube, no streaming, no instant global access to new sounds. The album was my way of bringing together all the music and places I had experienced over that year, blending them into something uniquely mine. It introduced me to listeners around the world and opened the doors to a career that would take me to more countries, collaborations and experiences than I ever imagined.

25 years later, I’m so grateful for everything this record set in motion. It’s a document of a moment in time, but it still feels alive — and I’m thrilled to share it again in this special anniversary edition."

Mastering for this 25 year vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry. The original artwork has been lovingly brought back to life by de Clive-Lowe himself, with updated liner notes written specially for this landmark reissue.

‘New Music for the 6 String Guitar’ is the 7th studio album from Radnorshire based guitarist Toby Hay. His debut in 2017 ‘The Gathering’, and 2018’s, ‘The Longest Day’, were both nominated for the Welsh Music Prize. This new album is a follow up to 2019’s ‘New Music For The 12 String Guitar’. Since then, he has released two collaborative albums, 2023’s self-titled ‘Jim Ghedi & Toby Hay’ released on the legendary Topic label, and 2024’s ‘After a Pause’, with Aidan Thorne, released on his own, Cambrian Records.

Like it’s 12 string predecessor, the concept for the new record was dreamt up by state51. The idea was to ask Roger Bucknall of Fylde guitars to build a new custom instrument specifically for a guitarist to write and record music for.

The ‘Curlew’ custom 6 string is made from Macassar ebony and light-coloured cedar and is set up to play in Toby’s unique tunings. The album was recorded over three days in the Wood Room at Real World Studios. All tracks are live performances with no overdubs.

“It is a beautiful studio, my brother Tim engineered the session. It is a very honest album, just me, in a room, one guitar, a mixture of compositions and improvisations. We were invited to watch the football with Peter Gabriel and a few of his friends on the final evening, a memorable experience!”

The natural world is a recurring theme across these 12 tracks, with inspiration ranging from Hay’s time working for the Radnorshire Wildlife Trust, to his recent Masters in Music & The Environment from the University of the Highlands and Islands. Inspiration also comes from Hay’s connection to his local landscape, his home in the Cambrian Mountains, and his sheep dog Bear. But ultimately this is an album that explores the relationship between musician and instrument.

With the guitar being built by Roger Bucknall, the album mixed by Tchad Blake, and the photography by Julian Broad, this album is full of talented contributions from masters in their fields.

Repress!

MIKE’s music carries age beyond his years. Born in New Jersey, he moved to London with his mother before eventually settling in The Bronx for the remainder of his teenage years. Renaissance Man was recorded between the two cities that shaped him, with both regions leaving a distinct mark on his sound. In London, he was immersed in grime and the music of King Krule, while in The Bronx, he gravitated toward the influences of Earl Sweatshirt and MF DOOM.Through his mixtapes Winter New York, Longest Day, Shortest Night, May God Bless Your Hustle, and his EP By The Water, he has made a definitive statement on the state of youth in New York. The releases turned heads outside of MIKE’s immediate community in the city, earning praise from The FADER, The New Yorker, and being selected as Best New Music by Pitchfork.MIKE raps over characteristically lo-fi, and soulfully hazy, self produced beats. Themes about the depression and anxiety that accompany being young and African American abound throughout his music, but a muted sense of hopefulness and certainty that he is moving towards ultimate triumph is the motor quietly propelling things forward.Renaissance Man follows his critically acclaimed Lex Records release, Black Soap

LINKIN PARK—Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Phoenix, Joe Hahn, alongside new members Emily Armstrong of critically acclaimed band Dead Sara as co-vocalist and Colin Brittain songwriter/producer for G Flip, Illenium, One OK Rock as drummer—share their first brand new music in seven years.

The iconic band shared a new single “The Emptiness Machine,” which is also the herald for the arrival of LINKIN PARK’s first album since 2017, FROM ZERO, on November 15.

About the new era, Shinoda stated, “Before LINKIN PARK, our first band name was Xero. This album title refers to both this humble beginning and the journey we’re currently undertaking. Sonically and emotionally, it is about past, present, and future—embracing our signature sound, but new and full of life. It was made with a deep appreciation for our new and longtime bandmates, our friends, our family, and our fans. We are proud of what LINKIN PARK has become over the years, and excited about the journey ahead.”

Right out of the gate, “The Emptiness Machine” channels the DNA of LINKIN PARK, harnessing the band’s explosive energy and retaining the hallmarks of their instantly identifiable and inimitable sound. A chameleonic and catchy anthem, Shinoda’s hypnotic melodies hand off to Armstrong’s blistering chorus, over distorted riffs and head-nodding drums.

Ultimately, with FROM ZERO, the band is looking to harness the purest energy of their past, present, and future. The new era has officially begun.

For RSD 2025 the influential band will be releasing a new double LP edition of their Nine Sevens box set of 7" records first released in 2018. Combining the run of early singles with more obscure later period tracks underlines the strength in depth that Wire had. This is pop art as art/pop and an exploration of the blank canvas of pop culture and how far that canvas can be stretched going from three minute constructs to ambient washes. The 7" single was always the ultimate artefact and statement with the A side being the band momentarily paused in time and distilled and freeze-framed into the forever with less than three minutes of electric sound. These "sevens" released from 1977 to the end of that decade, signpost the band's remarkable development from their brilliantly monochromatic early phase to the textured complexity of the almost psychedelic unzipping of their sound and vision. In some ways the compilation of Nine Sevens onto a double album makes for quite a weird documentation of the band in this period. The first disc, to some extent, follows the script of a singles / greatest hits collection but the second one goes wildly off-piste and ends up somewhere quite far from where the collection started. A conventional Greatest Hits collection, besides being conceptually a bit naff would, if strictly based on charting singles, consist of only one song! A Best Of is subjective and somewhat pointless in the age of the Spotify playlist that anyone can make. The only thing really that these tracks have in common (besides being by Wire) is that they were released or destined to be released on 7" by Wire in the period 1977-1980. - Nine Sevens is both title & elevator pitch!' Wire always understood the language of pop and also the artfulness of playing with it, deconstructing it and reassembling it into new and thrilling shapes. Decades later, these adventures into sound are like slices of delicious, perfect pop/noise and hits from a parallel universe. Track list:Side A1 Mannequin 2 Feeling Called Love 3 12XU 4 I Am the Fly5 Ex-Lion Tamer 6 Dot Dash *7 Options R * Side B 8 Outdoor Miner (single version) * 9 Practice Makes Perfect 10 A Question Of Degree * 11 Former Airline *12 Map Ref. 41ºN 93ºW Side C 1 Go Ahead * 2 Our Swimmer * 3 Midnight Bahnhof Café * 4 Second Length (Our Swimmer) **5 Catapult 30 ** Side D (154 EP) 6 Song 1 * 7 Get Down 1 + 2 * 8 Let's Panic Later *9 Small Electric Piece * * previously unreleased on vinyl album ** recorded in 1980 but not released until 2014

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

Jess Sah Bi is well-known as half of the legendary duo Jess Sah Bi & Peter One who brought homegrown Country-Americana to the West African masses with their smash debut Our Garden Needs Its Flowers in the mid-1980s. Touring stadiums and reaching listeners worldwide, their music has racked up millions of spins on YouTube and remains imprinted in the hearts of Ivorians of a certain age. ATFA reissued their album in 2018, garnering critical acclaim from publications including Pitchfork and Rolling Stone and reaching a new generation of listeners outside Ivory Coast (Cote d'Ivoire). Sometime in the early 90s, Die Sahbi - or Jesse, as he known to friends-became gravely ill with an unknown ailment and almost died. He visited various doctors and all kinds of religious healers and nothing helped. One day he went down to an Evangelical Christian revival in his neighborhood. They prayed over him and he was delivered. He says, "Their prayers helped chase out whatever demons and unhealthy spirits were inside me. After that my illness went away. When I went to the United States a few months later on an exchange program I wanted to make music to thank God because I was saved." He recorded an album of music praising God in order to honor a promise he made to himself at the depths of his desperation in the hospital. The album Jesus-Christ Ne Deçoit Pas Jesus Christ Does Not Let Us Down came out in 1991 and sold around 3000 cassettes in Ivory Coast. The master tape was lost along the way so the recording has never been on digital platforms until now. Jesse didn't have much time to record while visiting South Carolina, hence the relatively short album, 6 songs including two reprises for filler. A local pastor connected him with a studio and some American musicians (Robert Fortner and Gary Davis) to help. They added acoustic guitar, percussion and keyboard accompaniment to Jesse's soaring French and Gouro vocals, harmonica and finger-picked acoustic. The resulting recording is deeply soothing and contemplative music that perfectly compliments the songs already embraced by millions. But he had to find the rest of the studio expenses-$600 total-which he secured drawing cartoons for UNICEF. Jesse is Ivory Coast's first political cartoonist, a vocation for which he was widely celebrated at the time. It also made him a few enemies which lead to him leaving the country permanently a few years later. Jesus-Christ Ne Deçoit Pas is Jess Sah Bi's first and only gospel album. Fortunately, fans responded with enthusiasm: widespread radio airplay and concerts followed, along with a growing solo profile in the country. The first big gospel artists in Ivory Coast were the duo Mathieu et Constance, who emerged in 1989. There was a bigger gospel music movement in English-speaking counties like Ghana and Nigeria (Christians make up roughly 40% of the population in Ivory Coast, slightly less than Muslims). Jesse didn't have any intention of working in Christian music but he realized, "You don't make music to make money-you want to send a message." In the years since Jesus-Christ's release, gospel music in Ivory Coast has grown to become a key part of music culture in the country. Spiritual music appears in community actives across the public and private spectrum from religious gatherings and parties to television broadcasts and music festivals. And, as it has evolved and indigenized locally, gospel music has picked up elements of traditional Ivorian music, reggae and soul. The album ultimately precipitated the demise of the duo, who were soon separated geographically as Peter One relocated to Nashville. He went on to become a nurse and release a successful solo album on Verve following the ATFA collaboration. Nowadays Jesse lives in the Bay Area and continues to record and perform music wherever and whenever he has the chance. He is publishing a new book of humorous cartoons in 2025 and his most recent album Never Give Up came out in 2020

Lion, The Lion is Definition's summary of a phase of life. It roars with an unmistakable sense of strength, woven into every resonating beat and drifting melody.
Through shimmering synth textures, driving basslines, and subtle vocal traces, it carries you across a spectrum of emotional states—from feverish, pulsing energy to meditative introspection. Each track feels like a small yet significant battle won, a testament to resilience in the face of challenges. Percussion elements build tension, then dissolve into moments of calm, highlighting the dynamic interplay of fragility and power. Beneath its surface lies a constant wave of determination, anchoring the album’s softer elements in a foundation of raw strength.
Twisting tempos and sudden shifts in atmosphere propel you forward, ensuring that no section remains complacent or still. There is both grit and grace here, fused together in a complete experience that summons courage from the very first note. As the journey unfolds, a quiet resolve emerges, a promise of hope amid challenging times. Ultimately, the record stands as a moving ode to perseverance, asserting that true might resides not in grand gestures, but in the steady, unwavering pulse that keeps us going.

With Umwelt, room, An’archives releases the first vinyl LP by Japanese singer, songwriter and guitarist, Kotonashiso. An elegant collection of seven slow-moving, free-ranging song forms, Umwelt, room is reflective, pensive, and yet has a great, expansive sense of movement, each song’s parameters feeling almost infinitely flexible.

Born in Tokyo in 1984, Kotonashiso began playing music in 2000. After taking a long break from making music between the years 2005 to 2016, he returned with renewed focus, and over the past eight years, he’s toured Japan and Europe, performing in venues, street performances and open mic events. Currently, Kotonashiso plays either solo, on in three separate duos, with Sou Mori, 泥, and Hideya Kyooka, respectively. He’s not released much music, as yet – a single, “in the cavern”, with Sou Mori, in 2021, and a soundtrack to Hiroki Nakajima’s solo exhibition, Ray, the following year.

All of this gives Umwelt, Room the feeling of a major statement, a debut shot across the void. The seven songs collected here were recorded in 2024, with a guiding principle, for Kotonashiso, being his desire to “imagine the time when people started recording blues and folk songs on analog records,” creating a ghost-like presence in the listener’s room. When talking about the songs on Umwelt, Room, Kotonashiso focuses on a number of concepts, such as prayer, tragedy, ‘the cycle of life’, and the disappearance of the gulf between fantasy and reality.

They’re songs with deep, rich resonance, performed without guile. You might be able to hear, at times, the fragility of fellow Japanese singer-songwriter Hisato Higuchi, or the bluesy touch of Loren Connors in the guitar. However, Kotonashiso’s aesthetic remit is wide, identifying with artists like Bill Callahan, Scout Niblett, Inukaze, and Tomoko Shimazaki, and sharing sympathies with “the psychedelic rock, avant-garde and ambient communities.” Ultimately, though, the pellucid, dream-like songs of Kotonashiso, somewhere between folk, pop and blues, sit, disarmed and lovely, within their own universe.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Valuable vinyl reissue for this historic four-handed work by Gigi Masin and Giuseppe Caprioli. The concept of multitude combined with the figure/symbol of the labyrinth suggests orders of thought relating to the multiple states of being that inhabit the dark labyrinths of the soul, the hidden regions of the human psyche. All in Multitude In Labyrinth leads us to look for keys to understanding the ultimate meaning of a test as enigmatic as it is powerful. A congeries of paramusical phenomena in continuous evolution, expression of an internal feeling strongly concentrated on itself, disguised in the plastic flow of sound events that evolve on the gravitational maps of low-frequency drones, of the changing waveforms and of the elliptical-circular loops warped with scientific skill in the electronic workshop used for this purpose. A cinematic symphony in nine movements that direct the listening towards the frontiers of unexplored parallel worlds, ready to recreate the infinite maze of aural multitudes that materialize, dissolve and regenerate impulse after impulse for the duration of the work. Music whose remote echo makes us think of the harmony of the spheres that governs the mechanics of the cosmos and of being.

Colin McCann, Brian Gossman, and Eric Fiscus periodically return to the grid from the remote mountains of Northern California to document their evo/involution as Vulture Feather. Touring the states throughout much of 2024, they brought the sharpened machine back to Tim Green's Louder Studios to capture their second album, It Will Be Like Now. In literary terms, the record is a work of man versus nature, except man and nature are both secret identities of a third, unnamed thing. Tears and the ocean and death are the main characters, and the initiated may get the sense that these too, belong to the absolute. It all ultimately resolves as a terrifying and beautiful love story. Sonically speaking, It Will Be Like Now reports from a place where PiL and Jah Wobble never parted ways, where Johnny Marr righted the ship, where songs only need one part: the good part. The heads will know McCann and Gossman from their time in the prehistoric Don Martin Three (recently re-issued catalog by Numero Group) and later, Wilderness (Jagjaguwar). While prior efforts are beside the point, this is undeniably the sound of people who have been making music together for 25+ years. Glistening as much as howling, the guitar and vocals function as duet, delivering The Only Story Ever Told over a concise and thunderous rhythm section. It's the sound emulating from everywhere, all the time, through thick carpets of clouds, reverberating off canyon walls, through troubled waters, and finally to your devices, your ears, your heart, if you choose to hear it.

"Over the years, Ellende has released six full-length albums and three EPs. They achieved four official chart positions (Austria: #14, #21; Germany: #31, #37) with recent full-lengths, while the band has performed more than 120 international shows and reached over two million Spotify streams in the past year.

The lyrical themes have evolved alongside the music. From early reflections on misanthropy, nature, and isolation to later explorations of human nature, social criticism, war, loss, despair, and dementia. The upcoming full-length album “Zerfallˮ portrays the state of being shattered into fragments and the slow, painful process of rebuilding oneself: a confrontation with the void and ultimately a triumph over it. Shaped also by a tragic event in the life of its mastermind, Ellendeʼs work continues to fuse raw intensity with profound emotional depth."

Repress!

Compilation of 80s Turkish-Swiss band Café Türk, featuring selected works from their discography as well as previously unreleased recordings!

Café Türk's unrestrained sonic palette explores new wave, psych, disco and reggae with influences from Anatolia and Azerbaijan.2xLP includes a 4-page booklet with extensive liner notes and photos.

Café Türk are an inimitable Turkish-Swiss band formed in the 1980s, whose genre-bending sonic palette draws from Anatolia, the Caucasus and Western Europe. The group’s frantic trajectory connects Switzerland and the Turkish city of Kars with a background story as rich and unexpected as their sound. After three decades since they disbanded, Zel Zele Records have collaborated with Turkish crate-digger Grup Ses to give the music of Café Türk a new lease of life. This eponym compilation features original album tracks, singles and previously unreleased takes that trace the outline of the group’s history. From the rolling disco of the group’s debut recording “Haydi Yallah”; to the previously unreleased kosmiche of “Yıldızlar”, “Ali Baba From Istanbul”s Azeri grooves and German language vocals, to the psyched-out interpretation of Causaccian folk tune “Şamil”, Café Türk showcases the endless stream of ideas the band had during their time together between 1983 and 1989. Tracks come with an unrestrained spirit, weaving in the crackling energy of new wave, rock, disco and reggae with influences from Turkey and Azerbaijan.

This fascination in pulling different worlds together goes right back to the formative days of Metin Demiral, founder of Café Türk. Metin grew up in Kars, a provincial town in the Northeastern part of Turkey. Kars was once known for its multicultural communities; where you could hear locals speaking a range of languages, from Turkish to Azeri, Russian and Kurdish. In 1983 Café Türk won a contest set for Turkish groups based in Europe, organised by the label Türküola, home to Turkish stars like Cem Karaca, Selda Bağcan and Barış Manço. The resultant recording sessions gave birth to his new band and debut LP, Pizza Funghi. But Metin turned down Türküola’s offer to put the record out and instead self-pressed 1000 copies on his own Sound Concept label - driving as far as Berlin to sell them face-to-face to record shops. The record was picked up by a member of the German city of Nuremburg’s Cultural Department and soon Café Türk were invited to play for the local workers’ unions, many of whom represented immigrants from Turkey. These events only grew in popularity, the group ultimately spending five years touring similar shows in Europe, alongside more conventional tours and festivals. Metin had hoped to bring his new record to audiences in Turkey again, however, he found it impossible to get any of his songs played on state-sponsored radio, something he attributed to the infamously strict supervisory board of TRT, Turkey’s state-funded broadcaster. TRT tended to not accept songs that blended both western and traditional Turkish music in order to avoid “degenerating” Turkish folk music. Cafe Türk tried to fight this conservative mindset, but progressively resigned themselves to the political restrictions of the time

Red Vinyl. Since emerging in 2015, Sextile have been a party-provoking force on the LA underground, capable of kicking up a riot with the raw-edged squall of a synth or the sharp-elbowed jerk of a guitar. Sextile are now ready to rage with a serotonin-boosting new album, a new group dynamic, faster BPMs, and an even wilder new direction. Recorded in Yucca Valley, Push bounces and bops at the fringes of hardcore dance music, with the hallmarks of drum & bass, gabber and trance illuminating the record like glowsticks at a `90s Fantazia rave. "Contortion" introduces the album with shadowy vocals from Keehn and a `00s-ready twist of dirty electro bass, setting the tone for the dance-punk rave-up that unfolds across 11 attention-grabbing tracks. There's plenty of historic teen angst and biting social commentary written into the album's vivid tales and misadventures. Balancing storytelling with face- melting synths that turn the tune into an acid trance character study, "No Fun" is penned from the perspective of a teenager trying to flee their town. A punk spirit underscores the album. The clue's in the name with "Crassy Mel," which partly serves as a high-energy dedication to `70s anarcho-punk legends Crass . The track's headbang - ing heft, vocal yelping, and Prodigy -shaped breakbeats accentuate the album's overwhelming sense of fun. Plus, the dreamy ambient wash at the end of the song is the ultimate palate- cleanser. Push was inspired by the kind of pleasure-seeking music fans whose social calendar comprises both the punk show and the rave. Josh Wink, Iggy Pop, Goldie, and early XL Recordings have all been namechecked as influences on Push , and the dancefloor remains a constant pres - ence. Repping their place of origin, "New York" brings these musical touchstones off the page, guiding the album like an acid-soaked lodestar with its grinning nod to "Higher State of Consciousness" and a whirlygig of music-box synths. There are still nods and "hellos" to the caustic post-punk of Sextile's earlier work. Sextile haven't relinquished their punk credentials, they've just given them a smiley-faced revamp.

Following the success of Highly Refined Pirates' forward-thinking guitar gymnastics and Menos El Oso's groundbreaking glitch rock, Seattle's premier pop revisionists Minus The Bear dug into some of rock music's most ostentatious years for inspiration for their 2007 album, Planet of Ice. The title alone conjures images of Yes's Relayer album art, and the influence of the elder statesmen's symphonic scope can be felt throughout Planet of Ice's lush and intricate arrangements. You can also hear the band channel the ominous instrumental interplay of Lamb-era Genesis on "Dr. L'Ling", the deceptively savvy musicianship and pristine production of Steely Dan on "White Mystery", and the tightrope walk between ethereal space and pre-metal riffage of Pink Floyd's "Echoes" on "Lotus". Not that Minus The Bear completely abandoned their earlier style_elements of Menos El Oso's sample-driven technique can be heard on the lead single "Knights". But the heart of the song ultimately belongs to the haunting Fripp-esque guitar lines spliced between verses. After being out of print on record since 2010, Suicide Squeeze is proud to reintroduce Planet of Ice's creative marriage of classic motifs and modern musical wizardry with a vinyl remaster courtesy of Bernie Grundman.

LINKIN PARK—Mike Shinoda, Brad Delson, Phoenix, Joe Hahn, alongside new members Emily Armstrong of critically acclaimed band Dead Sara as co-vocalist and Colin Brittain songwriter/producer for G Flip, Illenium, One OK Rock as drummer—share their first brand new music in seven years.

The iconic band shared a new single “The Emptiness Machine,” which is also the herald for the arrival of LINKIN PARK’s first album since 2017, FROM ZERO, on November 15.

About the new era, Shinoda stated, “Before LINKIN PARK, our first band name was Xero. This album title refers to both this humble beginning and the journey we’re currently undertaking. Sonically and emotionally, it is about past, present, and future—embracing our signature sound, but new and full of life. It was made with a deep appreciation for our new and longtime bandmates, our friends, our family, and our fans. We are proud of what LINKIN PARK has become over the years, and excited about the journey ahead.”

Right out of the gate, “The Emptiness Machine” channels the DNA of LINKIN PARK, harnessing the band’s explosive energy and retaining the hallmarks of their instantly identifiable and inimitable sound. A chameleonic and catchy anthem, Shinoda’s hypnotic melodies hand off to Armstrong’s blistering chorus, over distorted riffs and head-nodding drums.

Ultimately, with FROM ZERO, the band is looking to harness the purest energy of their past, present, and future. The new era has officially begun.

Opaque yellow vinyl in reverse board jacket.
A full four years after Chicago organ maestro Jimmy Lacy’s legendary maiden voyage as SiP, Leos Naturals, he returns with its lush, layered, long-awaited sequel: Leos Ultras.

Conceived and recorded in a corner of a large floorplan warehouse-turned-sound lab called Homan Gardens, the album radiates a rare joy and colour, projected through a technicolor slideshow of cosmic keys, clarinet, kalimba, sax, melodica, flute, tambourine, and drumbox. The songs feel warm and weathered, like familiar garments treasured through passing seasons.

Many seasons did pass while these songs took shape, spiked with seismic changes – Lacy’s first daughter was born, followed 17 months by a second. Daily routines grew denser, but he never lost faith in the melodies simmering in the periphery of his thoughts: “I knew the music would be there whenever I had the time. It felt good to stay calm about it.” Patience paid off; Leos Ultras is indeed the ultimate SiP statement to date, rich with detail, discovery, beauty, lofted improvisation, and shades of spiritual jazz. It’s music both casual and cosmic, playful and poignant, channelled from long shadows and wordless hours in celebration of life, love, and Leo.

Recorded in Memphis, 1960-62 by Home of the Blues Record Company – sixteen tracks of vintage rocking Memphis blues that went unissued at the label’s demise and were lost in a warehouse, ultimately rediscovered and released by Acoustic Archives.

All now remastered to perfection by Oz Fritz and a team of A&R experts working with the original masters, including ones made by Sam Phillips Recording Studios in Memphis.

Featuring the superb arrangements of trumpeter Willie Mitchell, accompanying some of the best singers of the day, with guitar by Sammy Lawhorn, bass by Lewi Steinberg and drums by AI Jackson Jr. Recorded in glorious mono by Scotty Moore at Sam Phillips Recording Service.

Each artist bio had been thoroughly researched under the guidance of Acoustic Archives producer Marc Ryan with the assistance of Dr. Dave Evans, head musicologist at Memphis State U. The story provided in the 12-page booklet includes how these cuts eventually surfaced from the early 1960s and features the photos and commentary on the recording artists, with how the original owners of the Home of The Blues Record Shop, once at 107 Beale Street, worked at the recordings.

In a simultaneous act of defiance and impishness, Sham Family are etching their name in the wet concrete out front of the establishment. Hailing from the vibrant music scene of Toronto, Canada, the dynamic quartet is emerging as a prominent voice in the contemporary post- punk landscape.

To know Sham Family is to witness them perform live in the flesh. From the very first note, the room teeters between collective catharsis and a sort of beautiful, focused chaos. Blisteringly loud and remarkably lush, their live show is not only a testament to the meticulous craftsmanship of their music, but a downright physical feat. Broken strings, sweat, and the occasional minor lesion are collateral damage that only serves to strengthen their ultimate goal: deliver the loudest, most captivating show utte rly possible. Catching the attention of the newly formed Wavy Haze Records, spearheaded by indie icons Born Ruffians, Sham Family were the first non-Ruffians to join the label’s esteemed roster.
In 2022, they released their debut self-titled EP: a strikingly raw introduction to their leave-it-all-on-the-floor brand of shoegazey punk. The release quickly gained traction, propelling Sham Family onto stages across the United States and Canada. Now, Sham Family are gearing up to release their highly-anticipated full-length album, A Deaf Portrait of Peace, in 2024. Produced by the renowned Graham Walsh (METZ, Debby Friday, Preoccupations, Alvvays), the record promises to embody the propulsive ener gy of their live performances while venturing into uncharted sonic territories.

CECILIA is a nomadic soul. Like in an existentialist epic that traverses different ages on a phantom thread of love, spirituality, desire and rage. She inhabits different bodies, inserts herself in a whole array of different characters. Some are fictional, some are as real as the artists that inspired her, and whose influence appears in CHOEUR under the guise of tiny fragments, direct quotes, dedications and spectral presences. Cecilia channels the poetry of different lives that might have been her own or might have only existed in dreams, and does so within a collection of songs that twist the path of traditional French and Italian songwriting into the inmost recesses of electronic mysticism. The composition of CHOEUR took place mostly around January 2023, a pretty precarious time in the artist life, and happened in a spontaneous and ritualistic manner that could appear as somewhat odd in the realm of electronic music production. Birthing out of ego-free solo jams in hyphened states of consciousness and audience-less performances, these moments of do-or-die energy intake served to funnel the wilderness of her emotions into extremely tight arrangements, ultimately allowing a dramaturgy of fierce and beautiful songs into existence. Striving for the sublime, CECILIA trained her whole body for a paradoxical procedure of disconnection and reconnection. A crucial pin in Melissa Gagné’s system of 7-year creative cycles, CHOEUR marks her debut on Haunter Record as much as the first step towards the possibility of a new artistic identity. A labour of love if there ever was one. CHOEUR is made of Awe, Chants and Ravishment, of Pain until Vision. CHOEUR prays Earth, Water, Stars, Sea. CHOEUR feels Spirits, Lightning, Thunder, Dawn, Dusk, Blood, Flowers. CHOEUR invokes a Return, to Grace. CHOEUR loves Mud and longs to Play. CHOEUR lives in a Dream created by a Dream. CHOEUR lives in a Body created by Love. CHOEUR is about a broken heart, open and ecstatic, about the beauty and the sadness that all is not what could be, about wandering and wondering why were the stars made so beautiful?

Over a catalog of six albums, Native Harrow have produced a discography of “rich, engrossing records” and “instant classics” while single-mindedly following their own artistic code, acquiescing only to the exigence of the song: each song its own world with its own rules.

Formed a decade ago, Native Harrow spent their first five or six years crisscrossing the United States and Canada on numerous tours, averaging more than 150 concerts per year in 47 states and 4 provinces, on the back of two self-released albums, Ghost (2015) and Sorores (2017). In 2019, they released Happier Now, partnering with London alt-country stalwarts Loose Records. The record garnered glowing reviews, with Rough Trade selecting it for its album of the month, writing “Beautifully soaring... rolling grooves ground languid and dreamy clearwater shimmers of sound.” The critical acclaim and Americana chart success of the album prompted three back-to-back UK tours in 2019 and early 2020, ultimately leading to a three-year stint living and touring in the UK and Europe. In this time, Native Harrow released two more critically acclaimed records with Loose; Closeness (2020) and Old Kind of Magic (2022), playing for audiences ranging from rock clubs in Norway and Sweden to opera halls in Portugal, and every stop in-between, as well as performing at festivals such as BST Hyde Park (supporting the Eagles and Robert Plant & Alison Kraus), Greenman Festival, Black Deer Festival, The Great Escape, Celtic Connections, Moseley Folk Festival, SXSW, and many more.

Following the eruption of its title track, Side A of “Divided Kind” transitions nimbly through hazy tremolo-laden dusty canyons, past an intimate soulful love letter, and towards a moody anthem of devotion buoyed by propulsive grooves, before ultimately settling on a gentle bird’s-eye-view of love and transcendence. Side B opens with the debut single, “Goin’ Nowhere” a soul transmission over incendiary bass and undulating layers of guiro, congas, tambourines, shakers, and handclaps that sidesteps into moments of infinite dial-toned burnished, Rhodes-propelled soul-jazz and self-assured blues rock à gogo before ending in a spectral folk reading on celestial meditation.

“Divided Kind” was produced and recorded by the pair, in their home studio surrounded by the vintage acoustic and electric guitars, dusty semi-functional amplifiers, and out-of-date Rhodes, B3, piano, and assorted percussion they’ve grown accustomed to. Chicago-based Alex Hall was again drafted to add drums and to mix, and Philadelphia drummer and engineer Joshua Friedman mastered the record. London-based musician Joe Harvey-Whyte added the pedal steel to “Borrowing Time”, with all other voices and instruments being performed by Tuel and Harms.

The impact, influence, and importance of Run-D.M.C.'s self-titled debut – the album that invented hardcore hip-hop and bridged rap, rock, and funk in then-unparalleled ways – cannot be measured. The first full-length record released by Profile Records, the 1984 set permanently changed the sound of music, broadcast streetwise wisdom to every corner of the country, and made the notion of a one-man band a distinct reality. Bolstered by an incendiary blend of staccato deliveries, stark beats, aggressive exchanges, evocative hooks, and socially conscious messages, Run-D.M.C. still hits listeners in the jaw with the same intensity it did nearly 40 years ago when it could be heard booming from ghetto blasters carried around city blocks nationwide.

Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl, and strictly limited to 3,000 numbered copies, Mobile Fidelity's 180g SuperVinyl 33RPM LP is the definitive-sounding version of the groundbreaking work cited by Rolling Stone as the 378th Greatest Album of All Time. This reissue also represents the first time this gold-certified effort has been presented in audiophile quality. Benefitting from the ultra-low noise floor, superb groove definition, and dead-quiet surfaces of SuperVinyl, Run-D.M.C. now plays with a clarity, immediacy, punchiness, and directness worthy of the artistry, urgency, and intellect of the trio's material.

The brilliance of Russell Simmons and Larry Smith's production comes into view as if the music is being broadcast on a giant system in a small club — only more focused, lively, and unlimited. Free of dynamic constraints and fatiguing harshness, this LP invites you to turn up the volume and experience the raw, rough, invigorating songs that changed the look, sound, and feel of hip-hop overnight. Think the trio’s sparse framework of drum machines, tag-team rhymes, keyboard accents, and turntable scratches is stuck in the mid-80s? Spin MoFi’s SuperVinyl LP and gain new appreciation for the music, messages, and production on display on Run-D.M.C.

Recorded in the wake of two successful and pioneering singles, both included on the album, Run-D.M.C. effectively took a sheet of coarse-grit sandpaper to the polish, sheen, and linear presentation of all the hip-hop that preceded it. Stripped to bare-bones foundations, the songs grab your attention and shake you by the collar with a combination of industrial-leaning rhythms, staggered deliveries, dance drama, and hard, minimalist percussion. Then there are the lyrics.

The LP broadcasts a smart mix of boots-on-the-ground reports, uplifting advice, and then-nascent b-boy culture. In one fell swoop, its narratives and music rendered the scene’s proclivity toward glamor and softness passé. Run-D.M.C.’s tough, cool-minded fashion sense showed the trio walked its talk and gave fans — particularly those living in long-ignored urban areas — heroes which with they could identify. Kangol hats, black jeans, leather jackets, Adidas sneaks, and gold chains were the new currency.

In every regard, Run-D.M.C. signifies the birth of modern hip-hop. Never more obviously than on the groundbreaking “Rock Box,” where rap and rock were first fused. As the first hip-hop video to receive regular rotation on MTV, the track eviscerated racial and social boundaries, awakened musicians and listeners to new possibilities, and redefined both popular music and, ultimately, popular culture. As the Roots’ Questlove has stated, it “ knocked down many obstacles, enabling hip-hop to become the new gospel."

Such teaching includes the real-world scripture of “Hard Times,” utopian hopefulness of “Wake Up,” and observational truths of “It’s Like That.” Released as the group’s debut single well before its eponymous album, the latter tune established themes and outlooks Run-D.M.C. would embrace during its career. Namely, the keen awareness of various prejudices, economic ills, and disruptive violence as well as the knowledge that education, self-motivation, and hard work were the ways to escape disadvantages and disillusionment.

Inspired and inspirational, the song reflects the spirit and shrewdness that courses throughout Run-D.M.C. That includes a detailed account of the trio’s not-so secret weapon (“Jam-Master Jay”), purpose statement (“Hollis Crew (Krush-Groove 2)”), and a revolutionary hybrid autobiographical narrative-dis track (“Sucker M.C.’s (Krush-Groove 1)”) widely regarded as one of the best hip-hop songs ever created. The same can be said for every moment on Run-D.M.C.

MoFi SuperVinyl
Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

The latest full-length from Kishi Bashi, Kantos is a work of exquisite duality: a party album about the possible end of humanity as we know it, at turns deeply unsettling and sublimely joyful. In a sonic departure from the symphonic folk of his critically lauded 2019 LP Omoiyari - a career-defining body of work born from his intensive meditation on the mass incarceration of Japanese-Americans during World War II - the Seattle-born singer/songwriter/producer's fifth studio album encompasses everything from Brazilian jazz and '70s funk to orchestral rock and city pop (a Japanese genre that peaked in the mid-'80s). Informed by an equally kaleidoscopic mix of inspirations - the cult-classic sci-fi novel series Hyperion Cantos, the writings of 18th century enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant, a revelatory trip to ancient ruins on the island of Crete - Kantos ultimately serves as an unbridled exaltation of the human spirit and all its wild complexities. During the earliest stages of creating songs for the album, Ishibashi's main intent was to return to his highly eclectic musical roots, in part by tapping into his jazz background and by delving into the dance-rock-leaning sensibilities he previously embraced as co-founder of Brooklyn-bred indie band Jupiter One. But not too long into the songwriting process, he stumbled upon an AI-equipped website capable of composing catchy song hooks based on a prompt - a turn of events that quickly catalyzed the existential inquiry at the heart of Kantos. Although his ruminations on AI, transhumanism, and humanity's troubled fate indelibly guided the making of Kantos, Ishibashi nonetheless views the album as "less of a warning about this kind of hubris but more a celebration of the very characteristics that make us human: desire, passion, empathy, and love." "If there's anything I want people to come away with when they hear this record, it's a feeling of excitement about the possibilities of human-created art," he says. "Even as we're learning more about all the amazing things AI can do, I think humans will always be one step ahead in terms of our creativity and innovation. There's still no limit to what we have to offer."

Private Joy?! With a namesake derived from the mighty Prince’s catalogue, and its lustful connotations, Private Joy is the producer of soul band Lovescene and a supreme vocalist of the Manchester scene. With collaborations working with the likes of Ruf Dug, Finn, and Lenzman, a solo EP was inevitable and a statement this is.

Pops Roberts’ first solo EP debuts on Rhythm Section INTL bringing together influences from Streetsoul, 80s ‘babymaker’ RnB records and a slice of 00s soulful house in there for good measure. In just over 18 minutes, Private Joy welcomes you into her world of sensuality and soulful warmth. Musical hugs galore, the production balances synths, harps, saxophones, tight beats and meaningful lyrical content; eschewing millennial whoops for Sade indebted dulcet tones.

Each track draws from personal experience; be it heartbreak or reconnection, an emotional diary
conveying the trials and tribulations of love, loss and ultimately, desire.

“Desire has been the drive and beginning of so many decisions, highs and lows in life...” - Private Joy

Pirates Press Records is proud to re-release Close My Eyes, the 2002 album by NYC ska-reggae legends The Slackers - a complex and nuanced album that shows the band's versatility and capacity for both commentary and introspection. It is often said - to the point of cliche - that New York City is a "character" in the work of the city's most noted filmmakers. A similar statement could be made about the artistic symbiosis between the city and The Slackers. From the Bronx-born accent of lead vocalist Vic Ruggiero to the band's embrace of cosmopolitan musical traditions from a melting pot of cultural origins, New York defines The Slackers at least as much as the band have contributed to defining the sound of New York for well over 30 years.Therefore, it bears mentioning that - aside from a 2002 collaborative album by "The Slackersand Friends" - Close My Eyesis the band's first proper studio LP released after the traumatic terrorist attacks on their home city in 2001, and the band took enough time to reckon with the global fallout of this tragedy. "So feel free go steal and rob, revolution ain't my job," sings Ruggiero on the title track. "And if I sing your happy song, please don't tell me I am wrong." It is the statement of an artist searching for a way to still sing about joy and life in uncertain times of great upheaval. And ultimately the band must reckon with these times. On "Real War," toaster Marq Lyn takes lead vocals as the band addresses the march to war that was omnipresent in those early days of the 21st century, stating in no uncertain terms that it was "Time to fight the real war_ Against hunger and poverty_ For racial equality." The Slackers make it clear that while the machinations of hawkish politicians grind on, the real needs of people all over the world are left behind. This tension between a dangerous world and the struggles of one's personal life are present throughout the record, and the band weaves stories from the whole spectrum of human emotion, war, heartbreak, joy, and everything in between. Bookended by instrumental tracks, opening with the energetic "Shankbon" and ending with moody dub reggae, these veteran virtuoso players ultimately take listeners on a masterful journey through the human experience.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

Crack Cloud has always been something beyond a rock band: both profound and grand, vaporous and elusive. The first iteration of Crack Cloud was formed nearly a decade ago as a proxy-rehab outlet on the fringes of Calgary. Over time, two EPs and accompanying visual pieces were produced out of the residence known as Red Mile. By 2017, several members had relocated to Vancouver, working out of harm reduction centers and low-barrier shelters. Sobriety, self-reformation and the idealism of their work further formed an ethos for Crack Cloud. It was during these years that the band produced their astounding 2020 album Pain Olympics. At once, their vision became expansive, cinematic. Now, Red Mile is a bit of a homecoming. Members have returned to Calgary. But Calgary/home has become a liminal space, a place of flux. After a decade of personal and collective growth, what does home even mean? Red Mile is, for them, something like samsara: a return and a rebirth. Red Mile's sound breathes expansive energy into the circuitous, street bound sonics of Crack Cloud's prior material. Fizzling synths intertwine with chiming pianos. Songs layer like Russian nesting dolls; one may find a Ramones chorus set within a desolate Western prog soundtrack only to watch it erupt into a joyous anthem. Real-ass guitars _ alternately lilting, scuzzy and soaring _ ring out across wide sun-bleached spaces. In 2024, the cumulative effect is (in rock instrumentation terms) naturalistic. Any whiff of embalmed nostalgia is absent. Even the close of the album - a winding, almost Jerry Garcia guitar noodle that leads us out of Red Mile - is delivered without sentimentality. Principal songwriter Zach Choy's lyrics are cutting but merciful, with a sharp self-awareness that never slides into self-satisfaction. Crack Cloud as artists are critical _ and ultimately as forgiving _ of themselves as they are the melting world around them. The songs balance an easy charm and cathartic power: affirming life without denying death. Recorded predominantly between the outskirts of Joshua Tree California, and Calgary, Alberta, this record is informed by a bittersweet mélange of old and new. The sprawling, novelistic structures of their previous albums are condensed and sharpened, while maintaining their refusal to delve into superficiality. Through playful melodies and elliptical guitar soliloquy, they deliver a final product of exceptional depth and distinctly unprecious warmth. Crack Cloud have produced a mature, vital work that interrogates the platitudes of the rock-n-roll lifestyle, but ultimately exalts its sacredness. Red Mile's de facto thesis statement "The Medium" is itself a rock song meditation: an ode to the form and its practitioners. This genre that _ typical, repeatable, corporatized as it can be _ somehow still has the power to help us live through life. We see the dusty sentiment of "I love rock and roll" exhumed, taken apart, and stitched back together. It's a song guided by faith _ if the medium helps us proclaim our love today, it's worth protecting from derision tomorrow. We live in an era where music seems to love hitting its head against the wall. Crack Cloud's Red Mile is the sound _ the feeling! _ of the bricks giving way.

It's already hard to describe what Deerhoof sounds like. So we'll skip that part and say this sounds a lot like Deerhoof with a different singer. And in keeping with 30-year Hoofian tradition, melodies soar, big hit earwigs abound, harmonies are complex, and keys change frequently and unexpectedly. Arrangements are in a constant state of impatient agitation. Emotions run high but delivery is usually a falsetto deadpan. We Sang, Therefore We Were is grief delivered in code. Greg plays everything save for a few birds who join in singing now and again. He keeps the instrumentarium severely limited, the sound shambling and anti-slick. It turns out Greg is a really good bass player and guitar player, if a bit more rudimentary and slicing compared to his Deerhoof bandmates. He does play more angry guitar solos. But don't expect another Chippendale/Saunier speed-drum freakout; the songwriting is gorgeous and sophisticated, and drums are almost an afterthought. Here, song is Queen. The singing is high and whispery, tending towards the three-part harmony. What we're saying is: We Sang, Therefore We Were sounds a bit like Deerhoof fronted by The Andrews Sisters. This is a peek inside the mind of one of indie rock's most celebrated drummers, many of whose fans may not even realize the relentlessness of his musicianship and compositional prolificacy. Mozartian chords and sounds insinuate themselves here and there on this record, finally taking over in a big climax at the end, when the drums break off unexpectedly into a laugh-or-cry orchestral outpouring that ironically may be the rawest part of a very raw album. "Satomi, Ed, John and I were chatting between shows in Austin in early December. They encouraged me to make a record on my own. With no one to please but myself, it came together way faster than usual. It was basically done by the holidays. I had been excited by the announcement that the new Rolling Stones record was going to sound 'angry.' I thought, 'Yes, I'm angry too.' But Hackney Diamonds turned out more like cotton candy than punk rock. So I went back to Nirvana. I always loved the catchy melody over massive distortion, the way their songs refused to conform to simple major or minor scales, the dark sarcasm which still resonates in this age of phony blue-check-washing of fascism." The album cover is all text, penned by Greg on the familiar topic of interspecies absurdist operatic anti-Cartesian revolution. The songs' lyrics are all drawn from this epic poem. White House spokespersons are recast as The Queen of the Night from The Magic Flute, The Queen of the Night is recast as a mockingbird singing all night in a battle for survival, and ultimately the mockingbird is recast as a campy drag artist taking pleasure in her own aggressive, tireless music-making.

Formed by Kenny Clarke and Francy Boland, the Clarke-Boland Sextett, with the participation of numerous musicians from both Europe and the United States, made significant contributions to the development of jazz in Europe. At the core of this ensemble, the powerhouse sextet consisting of Kenny Clarke, Francy Boland, Sahib Shihab, Jimmy Woode, Joe Harris, and Sadi came together to record the album "Music For The Small Hours" in 1967, and it is now set to be reissued with an obi.

This album spans a wide range of styles, from standards like Burt Bacharach's "Wives & Lovers" to Brazilian and Afro-Cuban influences such as Luiz Bonfá's "Ebony Samba" and Dizzy Gillespie's "Tin Tin Deo." Additionally, it features original compositions like Shihab's "Please, Don't Leave," where he takes on vocal duties. The entire recording exudes a sophisticated and relaxed mood, showcasing the utmost skill of this formidable sextet. "Music For The Small Hours" is a masterpiece that deserves a place in the history of European jazz, boasting the ultimate level of refinement.