Cerca:we are what we made

Gerry Cinnamon, an already legendary live performer, made history last summer after selling out Scotland's national football stadium twice over to become the first independent act - and the first Scot - to sell out multiple nights at Hampden Park. A year on, the definitive live album from the multi-platinum singer/songwriter will be released on 14 July 2023. "Well that was a trip and a half. Played all sorts of gigs all over the world but that was something else. Over 100,000 of us. Music is a magical thing that connects people in a special way. History made. Memories made more importantly. Felt the Hampden roar right in my chest and it was mighty." - Gerry Cinnamon. The homecoming shows concluded his 350,000-capacity UK and Ireland tour, originally due to happen in 2020, instead taking place across 2021-22, also included sold out shows at Birmingham and Manchester Arena, London’s iconic Alexandra Palace, the 25,000 capacity Malahide Castle, Dublin, and Musgrave Park Stadium, Cork.

It's a Man’s World achieved Top Ten and Gold status in the UK, and featured the singles “Walking in Memphis,” “One by One,” “Not Enough Love in the World,” “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore” and “Paradise Is Here”. The album was supported by numerous remixes of the singles, and a selection of these remixes are included together for the first time on new physical and digital products. None of the remixes have previously been made available physically, and only one of the remixes is available digitally in the US.

The limited-edition vinyl box contains a 2-LP set of the original album – remastered from the best available sources – plus a double album of remixes, and includes two unique, numbered lithographs for worldwide retail and the artist webstore respectively. This reissue features the original 14-track UK version.

Dance music has always been grounded in a sense of place. Chicago, Detroit, London, Berlin—a zip code can tell you as much about the music as the year it was made.

But beyond the nuts and bolts of the here and now lies a netherzone where some of the best electronic music floats, impossible to pin down. Swayzak’s Snowboarding in Argentina is one such record.

The title hints at its uncanny placelessness. The music has nothing outwardly to do with Argentina, for one thing. The work of UK producers David Nicholas Brown and James S. Taylor, it was recorded in a number of locations—mostly bedrooms—around London. Yet there is little that is quintessentially British about the music.

Instead, Brown and Taylor drew much of their inspiration from, on the one hand, the luminous chords and silky heft of Detroit techno, and on the other, the staccato drums and clipped textures that were then beginning to bubble out of Berlin and Cologne.

That brings us to the question of time. For if Snowboarding in Argentina belongs to nowhere, it is equally a product of nowhen.

On a practical level, the music took shape in the mid to late 1990s, although it took nearly 10 years for it to come to fruition. Brown and Taylor began jamming on instruments, then machines, in the late 1980s. Then, after Brown suffered a serious car accident, the two musicians began working together more seriously. Trial and error yielded a promising single with a downtempo vibe that a hired-gun studio producer promptly ruined; Swayzak retreated to their bedrooms.

They learned about Chain Reaction from a radio show, found new ways to burrow into the circuitry of their machines, and by 1996 they had hit upon their sound. brought 10 copies of the first to Berlin’s Hard Wax, sold them directly to the shop for a fistful of Deutschmarks, and turned around and spent the money on records; that’s how DIY electronic music worked in those days.) The album itself appeared in 1998 on London’s Pagan label and quickly built a cult following. It was clear that the music was in conversation with its contemporaries: Heard from the right angle, it was possible to imagine it as a halfway point between the proto progressive house of Underworld and the monochromatic minimalism of Kompakt. But it also didn’t quite sound like anything else around; it was a dispatch from an unknown territory that needed no special understanding to decipher.

A quarter century later, Snowboarding in Argentina sounds simply eternal. Certain hallmarks of ’90s production are available—the music’s almost murky warmth is a reminder of what electronic music sounded like before software swallowed everything into its digital maw—but there’s nothing dated about it. The exploratory nature of these tracks, as the result of experimenting with their machines’ limitations, never eclipses their musical or emotional essence.

Long since been deemed a classic, Snowboarding in Argentina remains an underdog in the annals of electronic music. Its semi-obscurity was surely not helped by the decision to publish nine of its original 12 tracks on the CD, and seven on the vinyl, with only four appearing on both formats. Twenty-five years after its original release, Lapsus’ Perennial Series edition unites, for the first time, all the album’s tracks as a single triple-vinyl package, rounding out the 12 original songs with previously unreleased material. Working off the original DAT premasters, Swayzak have created new edits of all the tracks. The result might be considered the definitive edition of the album as it was meant to be, after a 25-year journey. It seems fitting that an album so timeless would continue morphing throughout its lifespan. For fans, it’s the chance to hear a beloved album as never before. And for newcomers, it’s the perfect introduction to a record that, in its own quiet way, reshaped the sound of electronic music, opening up new frontiers unbound by cartography or calendars.

The core of Snowboarding in Argentina appeared on a series of three two-track singles in 1997. (Taylor brought 10 copies of the first to Berlin’s Hard Wax, sold them directly to the shop for a fistful of Deutschmarks, and turned around and spent the money on records; that’s how DIY electronic music worked in those days.) The album itself appeared in 1998 on London’s Pagan label and quickly built a cult following. It was clear that the music was in conversation with its contemporaries: Heard from the right angle, it was possible to imagine it as a halfway point between the proto progressive house of Underworld and the monochromatic minimalism of Kompakt. But it also didn’t quite sound like anything else around; it was a dispatch from an unknown territory that needed no special understanding to decipher.

A quarter century later, Snowboarding in Argentina sounds simply eternal. Certain hallmarks of ’90s production are available—the music’s almost murky warmth is a reminder of what electronic music sounded like before software swallowed everything into its digital maw—but there’s nothing dated about it. The exploratory nature of these tracks, as the result of experimenting with their machines’ limitations, never eclipses their musical or emotional essence.

Long since been deemed a classic, Snowboarding in Argentina remains an underdog in the annals of electronic music. Its semi-obscurity was surely not helped by the decision to publishnine of its original 12 tracks on the CD, and seven on the vinyl, with only four appearing on both formats. Twenty-five years after its original release, Lapsus’ Perennial Series edition unites, for the first time, all the album’s tracks as a single triple-vinyl package, rounding out the 12 original songs with previously unreleased material. Working off the original DAT premasters, Swayzak have created new edits of all the tracks. The result might be considered the definitive edition of the album as it was meant to be, after a 25-year journey. It seems fitting that an album so timeless would continue morphing throughout its lifespan. For fans, it’s the chance to hear a beloved album as never before. And for newcomers, it’s the perfect introduction to a record that, in its own quiet way, reshaped the sound of electronic music, opening up new frontiers unbound by cartography or calendars.

Marc Richter aka Black To Comm released his debut record 20 years ago. In 2023 he is still busy releasing music under various disguises and is currently signed to the Thrill Jockey label. To celebrate this anniversary his own Cellule 75 label is re-releasing some classic out-of-print vinyl albums that originally came out on the defunct Type and De Stijl labels. The LP will feature a full-colour lyric sheet / poster exclusive to this edition.

After releasing the critically acclaimed Alphabet 1968 on the seminal Type label (Grouper, Jóhann Jóhannsson, Yellow Swans), Richter chose De Stijl for this 2012 album, an American label that had just put out future classics by the likes of Circuit Des Yeux, Hype Williams and Wolf Eyes.

EARTH is a 2009 silent film by Ho Tzu Nyen, one of Singapore's foremost visual artists. After hearing Black To Comm's Alphabet 1968 Ho Tzu Nyen invited Richter to accompany the film at Berlin's Asian Film Festival, Unsound in Krakow and several other art biennals and music festivals around the world.

In his own words: "Most of the music was composed under the influence of heavy pain killers while recovering from a broken leg (the recordings literally took place in bed). The music (like the film) is about slowness and decay, states of unconsciousness, sleeping and waking up, dying and being reborn. The film is a post-apocalyptic collage based on paintings by classical European painters (Caravaggio, Delacroix, Rembrandt, Gericault) -- the music translates this concept employing corresponding collage-based sampling techniques using loops made from vintage vinyl and shellac records combined with acoustic and electronic instrumentation and voice."

From the original De Stijl one-sheet:
"Richter’s already formidable expressive power stretches over all of EARTH. Reflecting the countless cyclical forces that make up, oh, more or less everything we know and are, the music on EARTH is bracing, lovely, bustling and still, and at times bittersweet, a commingling of sensations and emotions that can’t be neatly separated from one another. (EARTH is complex, as you know.) Guests on EARTH include David Aird, a.k.a Vindicatrix (on the Mordant Music label), contributing startling vocal work; Renate Nikolaus on an array of instruments and noise devices; Rutger Zuydervelt (singing bowls); and Christopher Kline (singing saw). EARTH is Black to Comm’s seventh album and his debut for De Stijl, following the acclaimed Alphabet 1968 (on Type) and last year’s vinyl-only collaboration with Mike Kelley of Destroy All Monsters (on the En/Of label)."

Alex Neilson in The Wire:
"The most marked aspect of Earth is the voice of David Aird, aka Vindicatrix. Imperious and dolorous, he has the gravity of post-Climate Of Hunter Scott Walker, David Sylvain or Klaus Nomi stripped of the pathetic ritz. This is something that's easy to do badly, but Aird pulls it off with aplomb. On "The Children" he breaks into a morose yodel, rolling the words around his palate and colouring each syllable black before gifting them to the air. The meaning isn't understood verbally as much as viscerally. Beneath Aird's ululations, Richter casts handfuls of angelic debris from keyboards and digital devices, generating a celestial electronic tapestry reminiscent of Japanese musician Nobukazu Takemura. Sounds vie and twist at frequencies you can't so much hear as feel in the bridge of your nose, and the variety and full-bloodedness of the accompaniment is what prevents Aird's vocal from occassionally lapsing into shtick."

ME LOST ME led by Newcastle-based artist Jayne Dent announces a new album RPG via Upset The Rhythm on 7th July, and is touring across the UK including support dates with Pigs x7. RPG (recorded in Blank Studios with Sam Grant of Pigs x7) is ME LOST ME’s fourth outing as a collective, having transitioned from an ambitious solo project in 2017, Jayne now regularly collaborating with acclaimed North-East jazz musicians Faye MacCalman and John Pope.
ME LOST ME delights in experimenting with songwriting and storytelling, creating a beguiling mix of soaring vocals and atmospheric electronics that playfully weave together disparate genres, drawing influence from folk, art pop, noise, ambient and improvised music. Hauntological in part, RPG is concerned with tales and with time - are we running out of it? Does insomnia cause a time loop? Do the pressures of masculinity prevent progress? Jayne Dent asks these questions and more on RPG, her homage to worldbuilding and the story as an artform, calling back to those oral traditions around a campfire, as well as modern day video games - bringing folk music into the present day as she does so.
ME LOST ME presents sound reaching in opposite directions, straddling time towards the archaic and timeless traditions of folktales, and towards the possible and potential futures of pastoral Britain and the world at large. Part speculation, part reminiscence, what results on the new album RPG is music that sounds ultimately displaced and yet omnipresent, adjacent to a hapless Vonnegut hero whose life is scattered throughout time and history, but full of wonder and curiosity rather than fear.
On track “The Oldest Trees Hold The Earth”, we see time stretched out between the branches of impossibly old beings in the woods. This track was co-written in Aarhus, Denmark with fellow Newcastle folk musician (with Danish heritage) Ditte Elly. The pair wordlessly passed a sheet of paper between each other to write the lyrics, inspired by Højbjerg and Mosegård, the woods they were sitting in. “How long should I wait/Before the moss grows?/On my skin, on my outstretched arms,” the lyrics are sung in a round, the close harmonies delicate and detailed.

A central thesis of this album is the joy of creation, something which is paid homage to in the album’s final track, “Science And Art” (Not because we need it to last/just because we needed to make it - so we invented the words/this language). It is also reflected in the definition that Jayne gives for “folk” itself. She comments, “To me, folk is quite an expansive idea. I think of it as creative work that's often made ad-hoc, with things that are at hand and more often than not it's born of a DIY ethos. It is songs and stories of the people, as in the traditional sense, but also creative coding, game design etc. Whatever outlet someone has for their creative expression could be described as folk. It's the things we make because humans need to make things, and the stories we tell about ourselves and the world around us.”
Crucially, on latest album RPG, Dent expands her songwriting and looks towards the unreal locations of worldbuilding in video games for inspiration. She comments, “I think the main similarity is the importance of a song's setting/environment to inform its narrative and textures, I'm often most inspired when out walking in the natural landscape, in cities and travelling to places I've never been before - the environment I'm in really impacts the work I make. While writing this album, however, I found myself inspired by imaginary landscapes, those in video games, paintings, etc. I was writing stories into these unreal locations instead. Even the songs inspired by real places, like The Oldest Trees Hold the Earth, have a very surreal quality to them in the songs, like they're being warped and turned into something not of this world. I think that's the main difference for me in terms of the thematic content and inspiration behind this album - I've been getting more and more interested in balancing surreal and fantastical environmental elements with ordinary and everyday settings.”
RPG upends the concept of the eternal return - we may be in the midst of inevitable repetition, but we tell stories whilst awaiting the passage of time.
"Being familiar with, and a fan of Jayne's earlier work, it was great to get the opportunity to work with her on the production of her new record. I had in mind a sense of what the record might be, but what came of the sessions, led by the vision Jayne had for the record, totally exceeded my expectations. As far as albums go, it has a breadth of writing and a sonic depth that made it a truly brilliant record. Having Jayne join us on a leg of the Pigs x7 tour in April is going to be ace. The creative nature, the sincerity and bold strokes of ME LOST ME put it in that space outside of any genre pigeonholes, and between our two sets I imagine the audience is going to have a proper sonic bath..."
Sam Grant, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, 2023
“The music of Me Lost Me is beguiling, idiosyncratic and cinematic - or should that be video-game-omatic? This suite of songscapes often hits the sweet spot between ancient and modern with its masterful blend of stark folk, neon electronic burbling and unusual arrangements. Jayne's singing is refreshingly straightforward and nuanced - it's exquisite! - and perfectly punctures the nebulae of synths and brass which billow around the old wooden frames of the songs. Whilst listening I had images in my mind of what Northumberland might look like through the eyes of Simon Stalenhag - foggy moors, a robot looking across the sea to Lindisfarne, twinkling lights on metal towers.... that sort of thing. It's a really great album.”
Richard Dawson, 2023

In addition to his day job transforming pop music with his own records, as well as those of Gastr del Sol, Loose Fur and Sonic Youth over the past few decades, Jim O"Rourke has been contracted for several dozen film scores over the years as well. It makes sense - his abilities as an improviser, composer and producer allow him to interpret cinematic moments with a unique understanding for their construction and how they work. It doesn"t hurt that Jim"s a well-versed cineaste, a complete and total fan of watching films, which has given him a preternatural understanding of the role of music in movies. What doesn"t make sense is how Hands That Bind is the first film soundtrack of Jim"s to ever receive worldwide release! He"s worked with filmmakers of international repute, like Olivier Assayas, Allison Anders, Werner Herzog and Kôji Wakamatsu! He served as music consultant on Richard Linklater"s 2003 laff-fest, School of Rock! He"s played in ensembles of award-winning documentaries and films alike! Throw the guy an internationally-promoted soundtrack LP every more often, why doncha? It was left to the "suits" of Drag City Records to innovate, once again, by taking a leap on an O"Rourke work. Made for an indie film that"s been seen by festival audiences and not enough others, the soundtrack for Hands That Bind is a moody, atmospheric delight. Jim"s roots in composition via tape-editing have evolved into a sophisticated assembly of found-and-processed sounds that achieve highly musical, near-orchestral majesty as they hang in the very air of the drama that unfolds in Kyle Armstrong"s Hands That Bind. Described as a "slow-burn prairie gothic drama" set in the farmland of Canada"s Alberta province, and starring Paul Sparks, Susan Kent, Landon Liboiron, Nicholas Campbell, Will Oldham, and Bruce Dern, Hands That Bind is a spellbinding trip to the existential bone of rural working life in North America. As conflict rises over the hard-worked patches of land that provide a mere and mean existence, a desperate air settles in, as a series of mysterious, often supernatural occurrences rock the small community. O"Rourke"s vaporous, serpentine musical backdrops and atmospheres reflect the obsessions and distractions of the film"s principles; moods of all sorts seen or otherwise implied. Additionally, the music highlights cinematographer Mike McLaughlin"s closely observed accounting of the farmers" environment, as well as the striking widescreen images of the big sky country with unnerving flair. For fans of Jim"s ongoing steamroom series as well as collectors of soundtracks, Hands That Bind will provide hours of engrossing listening. And if you get a chance, see the movie projected in a movie house, please - farmers aren"t the only ones struggling these days!

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/ songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences From Fontaines D.C. to Guy Garvey, Aurora to Feist, and Self-Esteem to David Gray, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic "Nick Drake was not that concerned with promoting himself as an artist but I think he would have been overjoyed to hear his art promoted by so many vibrant and talented artists such as the ones we approached. Each track is an example of a fellow artist adopting Nick's art as if it was their own, submitting to the song, and the results prove to me that talent can so often win out over mere skill or 'personality'. We are honoured and so grateful to all our friends, old and new, who took part in the making of this set." - Cally Calloman, Bryter Music "Having initially exchanged a list of our favourite artists and realised how much our tastes overlapped, Cally and I set out on this venture with one simple brief - to ask the artists to ignore the original recording of Nick's in terms of arrangement, production and singing style; basically, we were asking them to reinvent the song. First of all, it was humbling to hear so many similar responses, saying how important Nick's music was to them, and how much they wanted to be part of this project. But as the results came in one by one, we were staggered by the brilliance and invention that each artist had shown. They had done what we asked - they had made the song their own." - Jeremy Lascelles, Chrysalis Records

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/ songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences From Fontaines D.C. to Guy Garvey, Aurora to Feist, and Self-Esteem to David Gray, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic "Nick Drake was not that concerned with promoting himself as an artist but I think he would have been overjoyed to hear his art promoted by so many vibrant and talented artists such as the ones we approached. Each track is an example of a fellow artist adopting Nick's art as if it was their own, submitting to the song, and the results prove to me that talent can so often win out over mere skill or 'personality'. We are honoured and so grateful to all our friends, old and new, who took part in the making of this set." - Cally Calloman, Bryter Music "Having initially exchanged a list of our favourite artists and realised how much our tastes overlapped, Cally and I set out on this venture with one simple brief - to ask the artists to ignore the original recording of Nick's in terms of arrangement, production and singing style; basically, we were asking them to reinvent the song. First of all, it was humbling to hear so many similar responses, saying how important Nick's music was to them, and how much they wanted to be part of this project. But as the results came in one by one, we were staggered by the brilliance and invention that each artist had shown. They had done what we asked - they had made the song their own." - Jeremy Lascelles, Chrysalis Records

Marc Richter aka Black To Comm released his debut record 20 years ago. In 2023 he is still busy releasing music under various disguises and is currently signed to the Thrill Jockey label. To celebrate this anniversary his own Cellule 75 label is re-releasing some classic out-of-print vinyl albums that originally came out on the defunct Type and De Stijl labels. The LP will feature a full-colour printed inner sleeve exclusive to this edition.

In 2009 the Type Recordings label run by John Twells had just released seminal records by Grouper, Jóhann Jóhannsson and Yellow Swans when they signed Richter and put out his breakthrough Alphabet 1968 album. The LP sold out within two weeks, receiving a glowing full-page review in The Wire Magazine by the late Mark Fisher (later reprinted in his book Ghosts Of My Life), was selected for Boomkat's Top 10 releases of the year (alongside debut albums by Leyland Kirby, Demdike Stare and Oneohtrix Point Never) and was greeted with universal praise in the underground blog network as well as established magazines such as The New Yorker and Pitchfork.

The music itself played with the notion of nostalgia without being nostalgic itself. It's the sound of half-remembered dreams, a surreal distorted vision of the past, an aural polaroid of long forgotten musics, a ghostly voice from a non-existent era.

From the original Type one-sheet:
"The mission statement for Alphabet 1968 was to write an album of "songs" for want of a better word. Short tracks which represented genre points, the milestones which stuck in Richter's mind when he thought back to his favorite records. What we arrive at is a breathtaking 10-track album which, over the course of 45 minutes, explores world music, techno, noise, avant-garde, ambient music and even exotica. Each track is linked with a loose thread of radio static or environmental sound, dragging you through the album, as if tuning in to a stray broadcast or a particularly adventurous mix. Richter has pieced the album together from hours of recordings made at his studio with home made gamelan, small instruments and loops gathered from a collection of ancient vinyl and 78 records. The scope of the album is admirable, but ignoring this, it is simply a shockingly arresting collection of experimental oddities, with references ranging from Moondog to Basic Channel by way of Bernard Herrmann. It's not hard to fall in love with Alphabet 1968, far harder would be to place exactly where the record should fit into your collection."

Mark Fisher in The Wire:
"But what if we were to take Richter's provocation seriously - what would a song without a singer be like? What would it be like, that is to say, if objects themselves could sing? It’s a question that connects fairy tales with cybernetics, and listening to Alphabet 1968, I’m reminded of a filmic space in which magic and mechanism meet: JF Sebastian’s apartment in Blade Runner. The tracks on the LP are crafted with the same minute attention to detail that the genetic designer and toymaker brought to his miniature automata, with their bizarre mixture of the clockwork and the computerised, the antique and the ultramodern, the playful and the sinister. Richter’s musical pieces have been built from similarly heterogeneous materials - record crackle, shortwave radio, glockenspiels, all manner of samples, mostly of acoustic instruments. ….. JF Sebastian's apartment was itself an update of older spaces in which science and sorcery co-existed: the workshops of ETA Hoffmann's inventor-magicians, or of Pinocchio's creator, Geppetto. I think, too, of Auguste Villiers de l'Isle-Adam's astonishing 1886 tale The Future Eve in which Edison, using the expertise he has recently acquired from inventing the phonograph, sets himself the task of constructing an artificial woman. But if there are songs here, they are sung by the gramophone and other recording and playback machines. Richter so successfully effaces himself as author that it is as if he has snuck into a room and recorded the objects as they played (to) themselves. Rather than simply automating his music, as in the case of Pierre Bastien and his mechanical machines, Richter makes us feel that he has merely recorded the unlife of objects. ….. Indeed, the impression of things winding down is persistent on Alphabet 1968. Entropy has not been excluded from Richter's enchanted soundworld. It feels as if the magic is always about to wear off, that the enchanted objects will slip back into the inanimate again at any moment."

Nothing compares to Lewis Taylor and nobody crafts a "B-Side" quite like him. Indeed, his long deleted B-Sides are the stuff of legend. So, gathered together for the first time on one slice of wax, we present The Damn Rest: an album's worth of B-Sides from the era of the 1996 Lewis Taylor ("Damn") album. More off-the-wall and abstract than the album proper, these rare, underheard tracks burst with Lewis's uncompromising genius. A lot more experimental, the music is still drop dead beautiful. The Damn Rest is the essential bridge between Lewis Taylor and Lewis II.

Lewis Taylor's self-titled masterpiece from 1996 was to be originally called Damn. You can see the word right there on the from cover. However, concerns over distribution in the US scuppered this desired title. When thinking about what to call this collection of essential B-Sides from the era of that first album, we thought The Damn Rest would be appropriate. But these tracks aren't simply throwaways or outtakes, as Lewis himself states: "each little group were recorded specifically for the release of each 'single'." These B-Sides were simply the next thing to happen after self-titled, and before Lewis II. In other words, you need this!

The collection opens with "Asleep When You Come", the A2 on the original "Lucky" 12". It's a slow-mo string-drenched soul offering, cast in cinematic soft-focus with a vocal performance from the heavens set against wonky, shuffling drums and delicate instrumental flourishes. Beautiful. Also from the "Lucky" single, "You Got Me Thinking" may actually be Lewis' funkiest moment and is definitely one of our favourites, a great, gently psychedelic funky club track, that's for sure. Next, the gorgeous, meandering "I Dream The Better Dream" is just sheer, metronomic bliss, with shades of Stevie Wonder. Just ask D’Angelo, who included the track on his Feverish Phantasmagoria show for Sonos. Not only a celebrity-fan-favourite, it's Lewis's, too: "My favourite has always been this track. In my fantasy it’s what early Soft Machine would’ve sounded like if Marvin Gaye was their lead singer."

As we move to the B-sides from the "Whoever" single, the first to feature is "Pie In The Electric Sky / If I Lay Down". It's a brilliantly sprawling classic. A head-nod funk workout in two parts; part psychedelic heavy soul jam, part breezy Marvin-esque near-instrumental of the deeply lush variety. It needs to be heard to be believed. Astonishing! Flip over for "Waves", a shimmering, dramatic, sweeping string-led fan favourite. The climax of the song is just too stunning for words. It's followed by the deep wyrd-soul of "Trip So Heavy" the final, dizzying track from the "Whoever" single and another celestial funk delight featuring strings, organ, twisted bass and heavy drums. From the "Bittersweet" 12", "A Little Bit Tasty" is a building, schizophrenic soul-jazz epic that starts out with Lewis performing a call and (distant) response with himself over a gentle mid-90s drum loop before snatches of heavy, crunching metal guitars blast apart the otherwise neat song structure. Ultimately, it's unarguable that The Damn Rest is worth it for the inclusion of the jaw-dropping "Lewis III" alone. A dazzlingly lush and stunningly sophisticated prog/soul hybrid that owes as much to "Pet Sounds" as "What's Going On" with arrangements that grow and unfold in layers. Just sparkling.

A compilation like this feels like one of those promo-only rarities they used to give out to a select few back in the good old days, so when it came to the artwork it only made sense to follow what Cally Callomon (head of Island’s art department) had done for the singles and promos back in the 90s. He even did us some fresh scribbles of “The Damn Rest” to match his handwriting that’s all over the first album and its singles. We hope you like it as much as the music contained within. Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering ensures these classic recordings sound as great as they deserve to. The record has been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry. We've lost Prince. We still have Lewis.

From Alehouse to Playhouse Bjarte Eike and his barnstorming Barokksolistene capture the vital spark of Restoration London’s entertainment scene with a captivating new recording for Rubicon Classics! The Playhouse Sessions will be released on 23 September 2022 to coincide with Barokksolistene’s concert double-bill at London’s Southbank Centre.

‘A smattering of Purcell, dances from Playford’s Dancing Master, shanties, reels and ballads succumb to a nine-piece ensemble drawing on Baroque, jazz and folk styles for a no holds barred hooley of riotous improvisatory give and take,’ (BBC Music Magazine review of The Alehouse Sessions, August 2019)

London’s musicians, pushed in the 1650s, to the margins of society by order of Oliver Cromwell, found room for new forms of entertainment in city-centre taverns and alehouses. They remained there long after the restoration of the monarchy, performing sets of dances, theatre songs and bawdy ballads to audiences glad to be free from Puritan constraints on pleasure.

Norwegian violinist Bjarte Eike and his Barokksolistene have restored the spirit and substance of those long-forgotten performances with their Alehouse Sessions, hailed by The Times as ‘irresistible’ and ‘fabulously unrestrained’ by The Guardian. Five years ago the Norwegian violinist and his band scored a best-selling album with The Alehouse Sessions on Rubicon Classics. They return to the label with another compelling collection of music and words of the kind on offer more than three centuries ago at Henry Purcell’s favourite Westminster watering holes. The Playhouse Sessions, set for release on Rubicon Classics on 23 September 2022, reflects the uplifting energy and engaging emotional contrasts of Barokksolistene’s Alehouse performances.

“The album contains a sort of inner narrative that runs through the recording,” says Bjarte Eike. “It has become like a play in its own right, with each track being a small tale within a larger story.” The recording’s tracklist includes Eike’s beguiling arrangements of music from Purcell’s semi-opera The Fairy Queen and his own original compositions on words from the play on which it is based, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; popular songs and ballads such as ‘The Irish Washerwoman’, ‘I often for my Jenny strove’ and ‘The Three Ravens’; tunes from Purcell’s welcome odes and stage shows, Come ye sons of art and Dido and Aeneas among them; the ‘Willow Song’ from Shakespeare’s Othello; Eike’s own voice in Puck’s monologue from Act 5 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream; and John Dowland’s sublime air ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’.

London’s theatres were closed at the start of the English Civil War in 1642 and remained shut until the Restoration. Alehouses offered redundant musicians, actors and dancers a place to scrape a precarious living and soon became their creative refuge. “Although a few surviving theatres reopened in 1660 with the return of Charles II, there was little money around to rebuild those that had been demolished,” observes Bjarte Eike. “And a generation of musicians had already found an audience in places like the Black Horse in Aldersgate Street. So popular were their alehouse sessions that Cromwell tried to abolish them! But they outlived him and became part of Restoration musical life.” The form of a Barokksolistene Alehouse, he adds, is like a creative room. “Within its framework I can frequently refurbish the show with new contents. The Playhouse project is likewise an extension of the ever-evolving Alehouse Sessions. Together they tell the story of music and theatre in London during Cromwell’s time and after the Restoration. Of course there’s an historical context to what we do. But there’s also the practical context – which is even more important to me – of connecting with a contemporary twenty-first century audience. An Alehouse / Playhouse performance is not something for the museum; it's about music made in the present moment, just as it was in the London alehouses of Purcell’s day -- with their playhouses annexed to the rear of the beer-drinking saloons. The encounter of musicians onstage and the audience in the hall is the real magic of it. We have to fuse the audience into the action of our performance!”

The Playhouse Sessions will be launched on Friday 23 September with a late-night concert at the Purcell Room and a post-concert Alehouse Session in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Soprano Mary Bevan is set to join Eike and his Alehouse Boys for the first half of their Southbank Centre double-bill, offering unique interpretations of songs from Purcell shows and other hits from the late seventeenth-century London stage. “The Southbank Centre is a direct descendant of concerts given in the 1650s in the alehouses of London,” notes Eike. “These alehouses after all staged some of the world’s first public concerts. Later, after the Restoration, it became common for promoters to advertise alehouse concerts in the press and offer subscription tickets. Purcell and his fellow musicians were thus just as at home performing there as they were in the chambers of the royal court or in London’s new theatres.”

Bjarte Eike launched his Alehouse Sessions in company with like-minded musicians 15 years ago. The ensemble comprises a core of regular performers, all of whom have committed to memory a huge setlist of up to four hours of music. Typically they meet a day or so before a concert tour to share a meal and make music together; then next day, re-grouping thirty minutes before the show, they discover Eike’s select-menu for the evening. “That ensures that every show is fresh,” he notes. “I make sure we never repeat the same programme twice. It’s therefore essential to work with people who share my outlook and dare to adventure. We’re into a high-risk sport, with lots of traps and places where the unexpected appears - for good or for ill. And so the audience knows we’re vulnerable. But our skill is seen in how we re-act on the hoof to the unpredictable. That’s authenticity and honesty - and above all it’s a performance that’s genuine.”

Armed with a classical training and a background in folk music and improvisation, Bjarte Eike was drawn naturally to Early Music in all its stylistic variety. “I never really felt at home with only one genre,” he recalls. “Early Music allowed me to study profound, complicated compositions, but performing it has also opened up the chance of rebellion and uproar! Early music offers wide, multi-faceted areas of musical exploration for me. You find, for instance, links to different types of music wherever you look in seventeenth-century English repertoire. And I am fascinated by all these connections. They offer a foundation for the Alehouse Sessions and for all Barokksolistene performance more generally. Every member of the group plays, sings, dances and improvises without limitation. We’re all interested in the many different fields of being a stage performer and pushing hard at the ‘normal’ boundaries of what it means to be a classical musician.”

Lewis II was the follow up to Lewis Taylor's epochal, self-titled debut album. It was initially released in 2000 and this double LP release, its first ever vinyl edition, has been heavily anticipated for nearly a quarter of a century. It's often years before most listeners catch up with an album's breathtaking vision and devastating execution, and so it has proved with Lewis II; it stands up exceptionally well today.

After Island rejected Lewis Taylor's second release (later released as The Lost Album), he returned to the studio to record Lewis II. Less esoteric than Lewis Taylor, Lewis II is a more polished, sophisticated funk and mature uptempo soul than the dark psych-soul of his debut. The production, whilst slicker, is a bit tougher, with more crisp, R&B-flavoured grooves and head-nod beats and more bass pumping up his voice. The vocal intensity present on album number one doesn't abate. Indeed, as Lewis himself noted, "my voice is better on Lewis II and the vocals are high in the mix."

The moody funk of "Party" sounds like a mad blend of Riot-era Sly Stone and Brian Wilson. It rides a stuttering drum machine groove with acapella harmony vocals arriving halfway through to stay for the duration. "My Aching Heart", with its clean, slick, late 90s R&B drums, could surely have been a single. Perhaps Lewis's idiosyncratic melodies would've been too challenging for the charts. Lewis *had hoped* "You Make Me Wanna" would be a single but the dank, organ-drenched groove, coupled with the growling eroticism of Lewis's vocals would've, again, made this beyond the pale for most mainstream music fans. Somewhat incongruous acidic synths and bleeps give way to a laconic summertime groove on breezy highlight "The Way You Done Me", all funky acoustic guitars and stunning, good-time vocals. Sumptuous ballad "Satisfied", a real fan favourite, marries unusual instrumentation with classic soul-ballad structure and closes with a monster guitar solo which almost out-Princes Prince in its gritty melodicism, set against sweeping strings of real majesty. Prog-Funk-Rock!

The dubbed-out, spaced-out "Never Gonna Be My Woman" is the closest the album comes to classic D’Angeloesque neo-soul, with echoes of the esoteric funk featured across Maxwell's contemporaneous Embrya. But what follows is on some next level business. As Lewis's biggest fan, Geoffrey Scull, noted, "the "I'm On The Floor" / "Lewis II" / "Into You" song cycle stacks up against any other consecutive 15 minutes of recorded music, ever!" And who are we to argue with that? These could've been hits for Justin Timberlake during his fascinating Timbaland-collaborating days, such is the sonic and textural pop experimentation at play here. The extraordinary title track sounds like an outtake from Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man and spends its last third as a searingly dark piano-led psychedelic-guitar-crunching soul instrumental. Just astounding. And then. AND THEN! The way it segues into, er, "Into You" is just straight up genius. Goosebumps galore on this one, no words can describe its celestial brilliance. Just kick back and be beguiled by the "Let me come on over again" refrain that ornately adorns its sensational coda. Phew.

The swoonsome, lovelorn ballad "Blue Eyes", apparently written in the spirit of Marvin’s "Vulnerable", is a lush, slow swinger with some gorgeous noir touches. To close, Lewis completely retools Jeff Buckley’s beloved, beautiful "Everybody Here Wants You" and, while talking some liberties, even manages to surpass the original. Yes, really! With soaring, fiery vocals set against icy piano and psychedelic guitars, Lewis recasts Buckley's effort as dramatic, ethereal soul.

When it came to translating the original CD booklet into a 12 inch LP sleeve, thanks to some suggestions from Cally Callomon (head of Island’s art department, who designed all the sleeves for Lewis’s two Island albums and their singles) and his trusting us with his “Lewis Taylor” folder full of various negatives, test prints and whatever else he was able to salvage from the old Island art department, we’ve gotten pretty close to what the original LP sleeve would’ve looked like if it existed. Simon Francis’s vinyl mastering, presents the eleven tracks over a double LP so, as ever, the record sounds outstandingly good. The records have been cut by Cicely Balston at Air Studios and pressed at Record Industry.

A kind of hush pervades throughout Standards Vol VI, the latest release by The National Jazz Trio of Scotland, the ironically named project helmed by Falkirk’s musical polymath, Bill Wells, that is neither a trio, nor a jazz band. If this collection of ten covers probably comes closest to the latter in its late night renditions of actual standards, the presence of long-term NJToS member and collaborator Aby Vulliamy as the record’s lone vocalist adds to its solitary air. This follows Standards Vol IV (2018), which featured fellow NJToS co-founder Kate Sugden as primary vocalist, while Gerard Black, a member of the group since 2016, took centre stage in similar fashion on Standards Vol V (2019). Wells has long been a fan of Vulliamy, both of her work as a viola player with numerous collaborators, and as a singer.

Vulliamy played viola on Everything’s Getting Older, Wells’ 2011 collaboration with Arab Strap vocalist Aidan Moffat. Wells went on to play melodica on Vulliamy’s solo record, Spin Cycle, released on Karaoke Kalk in 2018. With the intent of producing the saddest heartbreak record ever made, Wells sourced a back catalogue of miniature epics, reinterpreting each tale of everyday yearning to make a canon of melancholy loungecore designed for nights in alone, if not always lonely. Beyond the concept of isolation behind Standards Vol VI, practical concerns added to the affair, with Wells recording backing tracks at home in Glasgow, while Vulliamy added her voice from her home in Yorkshire. The result on Standards Vol VI is a thing of quiet beauty that sees Wells and Vulliamy reimagine a panoply of pop classics in their own aloof sounding image.

Shades of Margo Guryan and Claudine Longet abound in Vulliamy’s delivery over Wells’ woozy, low-slung guitar and piano, with samples culled from a session with Teenage Fanclub’s Norman Blake. Little electronic percussive clicks and hisses lend things an even more otherworldly air on a record bookended by opener, Donovan’s proto hippy classic, Catch the Wind, and Dixieland miniature, Careless Love. The eight points in between take in a first half led by The Beatles’ normally jaunty We Can Work it Out, flipping the loveable mop-tops’ perky optimism for something more soul searching. This is followed by I Wish You Love, Albert Beach’s English language version of French songwriter Charles Trenet’s evergreen, Que reste-t-il de nos amours. The Bee Gees lost classic, To Love Somebody, is up next, with more impossible to answer questions coming in Why Can’t I?

The latter is a Rodgers and Hart composition that first appeared in the duo’s 1930 Broadway musical, Spring is Here, in which the show’s two heroines commiserate each other over their shared loneliness. Wells stumbled on the song in a tatty Rodgers and Hart songbook, which, like its subjects, had been left on the shelf before he and Vulliamy brought it in from the cold. The second half of Standards Vol VI leads with Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick’s much covered evocation of a pre dating app era from their 1964 hit musical, Fiddler on the Roof. This is followed by Billy Rose and Dave Dreyer’s showbiz staple (with Al Jolson also taking a credit), Me and My Shadow. While made famous by showbiz double acts ranging from Frank and Sammy to Robbie and Jonathan, here it flies decidedly solo. Johnny Mercer and Hoagy Carmichael’s Skylark comes next, a song inspired by Mercer’s yearning for Judy Garland. We hear ya, bub. The most downbeat take on Bacharach and David’s The Look of Love you’re ever likely to hear comes next, ushering in the short farewell of Careless Love, before the lights are turned out forever. Yeah, well. Whatever gets you through the night…

In the centre of deep space we tune in to the radio broadcasts from an old Class T interstellar spaceship. The emissions endlessly resonate the frequencies of the seventeenth release on the label HC Records by one of the titans of the Valencian scene, The Lost Boys, new pseudonym of the DJ and producer Raszia.

With releases on labels such as Bass Agenda, Subsist or Hxagrm Records, the artist mesmerises our senses with the Exiles of Mars Ep, available in both double vinyl and digital.

Syncopated rhythms are the protagonists across four original tracks together
with remixes by four electro legends: Boris Divider, Estrato Aurora, Dark Vektor, and Filmmaker.

The EP’s first cut is a remix of "Wall Of Bricks" by the legendary Boris Divider, which gives the track an air of crystalline, synthetic and cosmic sound, very much in line with his latest works on the Generative Operations series. Next, we find the original version, where the kick drums are heavier, the synths and basses more colourful and the acid sequences take centre stage in an odyssey of sidereal intensity.

On the record’s flip side, a feeling of overwhelming melancholy takes root in our soul. Valencian Estrato Aurora mentally transports us to the mysterious red sand of Mars in a precise exercise in symphonic minimalism with his remix of "Exiles of Mars", which mutates the original idea with velvety pads, synths and a slow and rapturous hypnotism that sinks us to unfathomable depths.
The Lost Boys' original concept on B2 is a combination of Miami Bass-style breaks and a demonic mantra-like main synth line, backed by what seems like an infinity of pearly effects and secondary melodies, pushing the track towards a crescendo punctuated by a dry and sharp snare.

The second disc’s opener "Bust My Moves" is a masterclass in deconstruction and reconstruction by Dark Vektor with his "Electro Escuadrón Remix”. The genius from Terrassa provides powerful lyrics loaded with a message about the modern rise of the 808 movement. We return to the original Lost Boys version on C2, a futuristic martial discourse takes shape with combating breaks combined with rave chords and brief episodes of respite, almost dreamlike, in the middle and end of the track’s exciting development.

On the D side, rough frequencies verging on distortion materialise through our ship's speakers as we pick up the Colombian Filmmaker’s remix of "Data Recovery For Brains". A psychotronic final appetiser that combines harshness and elegance in the use of the rolling kick drums and saturation of the sound, it is without a doubt the ideal soundtrack to narrate the collision of two galaxies. The closing of the EP features the original track, in which The Lost Boys show us his most mental and lysergic side as the track progresses along a slow and comforting broken rhythm, made dynamic by clever use of diverse acid sequences and clairvoyant stellar melodies.

The complete artistic experience is enhanced in all dimensions with accompanying artwork by
Daniel Requeni and videos elaborated by Frank-F.

Mastering as usual by Steve Voidloss at Black Monolith Studios in London (UK).

Glitching through pop music, cruising around the borders of the avant garde, passing by the edge of coldwave and tumbling into dance and club vibes: after her debut Bad Woman Céline Gillain is back with her second album: 'Mind is Mud'.

On Mind is Mud' Gillain let herself sink in the swamp of emotional confusion, the perpetual brain fog caused by a post Covid-world asking herself: do we have to get used to paradox as a way of life from now on?*

A musical dissection in nine songs of the mudflow, a flow which reveals its rich complexity the more Gillain dived into it: from the demanding intro 'Together' Céline opens up her highly personal and unique vision, shifting between high definition lost dimensions and emotionsthe mud slowly transfers in a crackling and sparkling stream of consciousness.

The mud is well alive in all its weirdness and unclarity. At times, it even glows in the dark.

The answer to that question is yes. The story of Mind is Mud by Céline Gillain: "Music is a place where intuiting is a work in itself. For me, it's the one place where I'm in charge, free to think and do what I want. Mind is Mud is the fruit of a collaborative practice with a DAW, a research around the palliative power of rhythm and the dancefloor, music as a space where emotions and ideas merge, storytelling, the comic potential and imaginative nature of sound. I don't really write, I copy paste and then I arrange and rearrange. Every sound I use comes from software, field recording, Instagram, movies and midi scores I collect here and there. In the hierarchy of sounds, you might call them cheap sounds. The lyrics are collages as well, made of pieces of texts from various contradictory sources. In addition to using the voice as a vehicle for ideas, I investigate its percussive and polyphonic potentialities, the possibility to have more than one voice/mouth."

In the quiet surrounding the pandemic, Madeline Kenney made sonic sketches in the basement studio she shared with her then-partner. She arranged phrases that called her—the sharp knife of a synth cutting a path along a blooming arpeggio, drums stuttering firm and tight. Working this way, she amassed a collection of songs she had no particular aims for. Some formed her 2021 EP Summer Quarter, others languished.

But in 2022, Kenney’s partner left suddenly and without warning, plunging her into the solitary act of untangling what happened. In the wake of her ensuing depression, she revisited these songs and found in them something prescient. She’d already laid the foundation for A New Reality Mind.

That her relationship’s end came without warning is only half true, though. The warnings were in the feelings and fears that inspired Kenney’s critically-acclaimed third album, Sucker’s Lunch (2020), which was co-produced by Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes) and centered around the idea of flinging oneself freely into the seemingly-assured destruction of new love, come what may.

If sonically Sucker’s Lunch was letting yourself be pulled into the warm bath of a good story, A New Reality Mind reflects the harsh light of truth coming to break the spell. But as sobering as morning light can be, there’s brilliance to it, too. To see in the clarity of day is a gift. A revolution. Rather than reckoning with love lost, the songs on A New Reality Mind grapple with the self that chose to fall. “I guess I only needed to look twice / Reflected in my attitude, my constant compromise,” Kenney sings on “Red Emotion,” the musical landscape screeching and gasping around her observations of how she made herself small to keep the dream of love alive.

These notions of sight and vision pervade the record as Kenney stands before the infinity mirror of selves she’s been to preserve bonds in her life. On “I Drew a Line,” Kenney contends with the stories she’s told herself to keep plodding along, and the way those stories shape her perceived reality. She invokes John Berger’s Ways of Seeing—“Everything around the image is part of its meaning,” we hear him say. “Everything around it confirms and consolidates its meaning.” Here, Kenney isn’t interested in shaming herself for being carried away by the fantasies of the heart, but rather in investigating the unavoidably human propensity to do so. “I, like everyone else, am muddling through my most ordinary disaster of a life,” she acknowledges, a sentiment which reverberates through album opener “Plain Boring Disaster.” “I don’t need to start again,” she sings at the song’s close. “But I can change when it ends.” We may all be doomed to repetitive, ordinary heartbreaks, Kenney realizes, but at least we can cultivate a capacity to witness our missteps and build new realities for ourselves.

This is Kenney’s most expansive work, while also her most solitary. Produced and recorded alone in her basement, these songs are manifestations of what it feels like to be transformed by pain. Textures collide and collude; sonic ornaments emerge and dissipate capriciously; saxophones soar untamed, as on the 80s pop elegy to self-sacrifice, “Reality Mind”. These songs beg you to dance, then pull the rug out from under you once you’ve caught the beat, leaving you dizzy like the whiplash of love’s end.

But in the propulsive power of A New Reality Mind, there’s also acceptance, self-forgiveness, and a willingness to move forward into life, with all its ways of making a sucker of you. “That way of living, I’m over it,” Kenney declares of the habits that hold her back on “Superficial Conversation”. “I do not need to be reminded of what I did,” she assures, the song opening wide and beaming, like a smile expanding to taste a new breath of air.

The first ever release of electronic Jaglara, an obscure dance music being innovated in an area near the Sudan, Ethiopia, and Eritrea border called Fashaga.

Among the most raucous, hypnotic, addictive, and celestial dance styles being made anywhere in Africa, this heavy, mysterious sound is being led by one man: Jantra, which translates as "craziness," a moniker bestowed to celebrate both his personality and sound. Jantra is a rather unknown quantity even in Sudan, outside of the circles which have granted him cult status to perform at their humble gatherings or at street parties far from the gaze of the cities.

Jaglara, which roughly translates as improvisation, has no songs. Jantra simply freestyles a combination of his melodies incessantly for hours on end, acting as a live producer and DJ for emphatic crowds, where the energy of his 155 - 168 BPM music is known to inspire the odd gunslinger to raise and fire his pistol in the middle of the dance floor. His music is hopeful in a hopeless world, uplifting in spirit, ancient and new, childish and mature, familiar yet refreshingly obscure, fueled by the hypnotic Sera rhythm. His Yamaha keyboard is specially tweaked to achieve what you're hearing — the perfect, sweet key tone, literally universal in its appeal.

A hybrid reissue-contemporary album, Ostinato combined extracted individual melodic patterns, rhythms, and MIDI data from Jantra's Yamaha keyboard with his older cassette and digital recordings to recreate his lengthy sessions into individual dance tracks for a worldwide audience to reach the enviable frenzy of Sudanese crowds. This promising new dance music emerging from the deepest reaches of Sudan has never made its way outside of Jantra's parties, let alone outside of the country.

This record is confirmation that the many electronic styles being exported from Africa have a worthy sibling and rival—Jantra's signature electronic Jaglara from the Fashaga underground. It is a privilege of the highest order to be exposed to this unheralded, incredibly well kept rural Sudanese secret.

Twenty-five years later, Little Plastic Castle feels like a greatest hits collection. Her highest charting release on Billboard (peaking at #22) and containing her third Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance - Female (“Glass House”), Ani DiFranco’s ninth studio album shows the Little Folksinger grappling with her independent career bubbling up into the mainstream — dissection of her fashion choices, a new expanded listenership encroaching on the die-hards, examination of what it means to sell out — encapsulated in singalongs so indelible that they’re staples of her live set decades later. This 25th Anniversary Edition sees a new remaster by Heba Kadry, the addition of three bonus tracks mixed by Tchad Blake, and a new CD package and first-time release on vinyl (2 LP). To make Little Plastic Castle, Ani returned to one of her favorite places to record in that era—the live-in studio the Congress House in Austin, Texas. In this relaxed setting she commented, "This album seemed to happen more organically than earlier studio releases." Ani is joined by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Jason Mercer who played with her on her 1997 tours, as well as bassist Sara Lee who toured with Ani in 1996. LPC also prominently features outside musicians including drummer Jerry Marotta (Peter Gabriel, Indigo Girls), a horn section composed of three Austin session musicians who add flavor to "Little Plastic Castle" and "Deep Dish," and trumpeter Jon Hassell (Brian Eno, Talking Heads) providing the sustained subtle solo on the 14-minute final track "Pulse." The three bonus tracks are recordings of Ani playing with the rhythm section of Sara Lee and Jerry Marotta, a trio that never reassembled after their single day of tracking. Though Ani described it as “the most light-hearted album I’ve made in a long time,” this record covers a wide range of topics — the impermanence of existence ("Fuel"), mutual respect ("Pixie"), forgiveness ("As Is"), drugs (“Two Little Girls”) — and emotions.

Twenty-five years later, Little Plastic Castle feels like a greatest hits collection. Her highest charting release on Billboard (peaking at #22) and containing her third Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance - Female (“Glass House”), Ani DiFranco’s ninth studio album shows the Little Folksinger grappling with her independent career bubbling up into the mainstream — dissection of her fashion choices, a new expanded listenership encroaching on the die-hards, examination of what it means to sell out — encapsulated in singalongs so indelible that they’re staples of her live set decades later. This 25th Anniversary Edition sees a new remaster by Heba Kadry, the addition of three bonus tracks mixed by Tchad Blake, and a new CD package and first-time release on vinyl (2 LP). To make Little Plastic Castle, Ani returned to one of her favorite places to record in that era—the live-in studio the Congress House in Austin, Texas. In this relaxed setting she commented, "This album seemed to happen more organically than earlier studio releases." Ani is joined by drummer Andy Stochansky and bassist Jason Mercer who played with her on her 1997 tours, as well as bassist Sara Lee who toured with Ani in 1996. LPC also prominently features outside musicians including drummer Jerry Marotta (Peter Gabriel, Indigo Girls), a horn section composed of three Austin session musicians who add flavor to "Little Plastic Castle" and "Deep Dish," and trumpeter Jon Hassell (Brian Eno, Talking Heads) providing the sustained subtle solo on the 14-minute final track "Pulse." The three bonus tracks are recordings of Ani playing with the rhythm section of Sara Lee and Jerry Marotta, a trio that never reassembled after their single day of tracking. Though Ani described it as “the most light-hearted album I’ve made in a long time,” this record covers a wide range of topics — the impermanence of existence ("Fuel"), mutual respect ("Pixie"), forgiveness ("As Is"), drugs (“Two Little Girls”) — and emotions.

For the third time to the house of Sakskøbing we are witnessing return of a close friend to the label, Portland-based Aaron Carlson who goes by the moniker ac$. This legend of a human being has crafted a 5 audio pieces which has been made on his modular machines at his home studio and showcases a good range of what I believe we call house music. With the first release he has done for the label that went out in the year 2017 and marks a 6-year friendship between the artist and all of us fellas who hold his music dear to the hearts. The record turned out to be warm, personal and true to the artist’s vision you’ll agree if just like us you have been following the man’s sound output over the years. Very importantly it teaches that bean curd is not only good for your body but for the mind as well and let’s not even start to count how many things you can do with it. You know what they say…

It has been some years now since Nail came back from the wilderness after one of his early EPs was re-released by Fear of Flying. Since then he has turned out plenty of new material as well as digging deep into his vast and vital vaults to serve up the sort of lo-fi but kicking house sounds that made him and his Nottingham crew such a driving force back in the 90s. And that's what we get here on For Those That Knoe - no fewer than eight masterfully stripped-back cuts of deep house. Some are laced with dreamy melodies, some roll deep for days, some are raw and textured pumpers and some are jazzed-up bangers with charm to spare. Essential stuff.

Long out-of-print release available digitally for the first time. Extensive notes by a local writer in English and French. Previously unpublished family photos. Urbanized traditional music at a dance-floor-friendly tempo. The very definition of an "Awesome Tape From Africa". Roger Bekono made a deep mark in the contemporary history of Cameroonian music through the four-on-the-floor, ribald intensity of bikutsi. The Ewondo-language dance-pop style that forms an undulating tapestry of interlocking triplet rhythmic interplay came to international prominence in the European "world music" scene as the 90s began. But the relentless sound of bikutsi developed in Yaoundé at the hands of Bekono and many others, as it developed from a village-based singing style performed mostly by women into a cosmopolitan music force that rivaled the popularity of established musics like Congolese rhumba, merengue and makossa. With his unique—some say suave—voice, Bekono contributed much over a period of more than 10 years as part of the evolution of this traditional rhythm-turned-urban dance movement. Bekono worked with legendary producer Mystic Jim, who had built a prolific home studio along with a crack team of musicians. They joined as part of the production of his self-titled album, which became known locally as "Jolie Poupée," the name of the album's lead single and most popular song. For "Jolie Poupée" Mystic Jim programmed the kick or bass drum, adding effects to have a heavier bass. Overall the album represented a new level of finesse and professionalism for his second release. In the middle of 1989, Jolie Poupée was released by the label Inter Diffusion System and aggressively hit the radio, discos and national television. The music video for the title track was on loop on TV. It felt like everyone was talking about it, even artists in adjacent music scenes like makossa. The album came out on vinyl and cassette and remains Bekono's best-selling recording to this day. With Jolie Poupée Bekono finally made an impact outside Cameroon as the record captured listeners in some Central African countries like Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Republic of Congo and Sao Tome & Principe. In these countries, we find the Fang or Mfan people (also known as Ekang), Bantu-speaking ethnic groups that are also found in Cameroon. This umbrella language group includes the language in which bikutsi is mainly sung. Most of Bekono's songs are in French, Ewondo (of which Beti is a dialect) and Pidgin. The four songs on Jolie Poupée are all considered bikutsi classics. On September 15, 2016, Bekono died of a long illness at the age of 62. In the wake of his passing the media published a wave of tributes, thanking him for what he did for Cameroonian music. He was an admired musician, songwriter and guitarist, and some of his old colleagues and some of the new generation of performers showered Bekono with vibrant tributes via social media, many of which noting something to the effect of: "The artist dies but his works remain."

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

In Times New Roman... is raw, at times brutal and not recommended for the faint of heart. And yet, it’s perhaps the most beautiful and definitely the most rewarding album in their epic discography. Founder Joshua Homme's most acerbic lyrics to date are buoyed by the instantly identifiable QOTSA sonic signature, expanded and embellished with new and unprecedented twists in virtually every song. With In Times New Roman… we see that sometimes one needs to look beneath scars and scabs to see beauty, and sometimes the scabs and scars are the beauty.

Please take the five stars not as a statement that this is the best record of 2013, but as a delighted endorsement of a genre classic. With his fifth record (3 with Harpoons, and 2 solo) Ezra Furman has made an album of classicist rock'n'roll that never feels like an exercise, but a living, breathing piece of self-expression. The foundations are obvious, but the simple touches that adorn them are what elevates Day of the Dog. Been So Strange, for example, is the Velvet Underground's chugging R&B reincarnated, but with the delicious addition of a horn section. It leaves you wondering why Lou Reed never thought to do the same, so well does it work. Slacker/Adria is nervy, jittery powerpop until two minutes in, when the bottom drops out of the song and it turns into a doomy riff over which Furman appears to be telling us his nightmares: "I see white crosses burning across a dark landscape." He's seen his critics coming, too: the liner notes contain an index so you can check off the references. Clever, funny, sharp and tuneful – a great rock'n'roll record.” Michael Hann (The Guardian).

Eric Emm and Jesse Cohen of Tanlines are indie-rock lifers turned reasonable, happy middle-aged fathers of two, figuring out their place in a chaotic culture and industry that can no longer command their full attention. They are emblematic of a particular time and place that doesn't really exist anymore, yet here they are existing, and thriving, in 2023. The Big Mess came together when Emm and his family moved from Brooklyn to rural Connecticut, while Cohen launched a marketing career and a successful podcast and stayed in the city. Emm continued writing songs_hundreds of them _ through all the weirdness of the past few years, but he wasn't exactly sure who he was writing them for. "I spent years figuring out in my mind, `What is my musical life going to look like?'" he says. "I just kept writing." Cohen gave Emm his blessing to continue Tanlines, even if his own contributions would be limited due to his own non-musical obligations. "I'm like, `Whatever you can do to keep this thing going, do it,'" Cohen says. And with that, Tanlines was reborn. By January 2022 Emm felt he had a body of work that made sense as a Tanlines album. Cohen spent ten days with Emm at his Connecticut studio, along with unofficial third Tanline Patrick Ford (!!!). This was tied together with a sleek final mix from Peter Katis (The National, Interpol) at his famed Tarquin Studios, resulting in a clear vision of what Emm's musical life was going to look like: The Big Mess. The first sounds on The Big Mess are the title track's coiled guitars and thumping drums, building into the kind of outsize, choral rock anthem artists like Tanlines were almost a reaction to. It is warm and nostalgic, and Cohen likens a lot of the prevailing mood to "a sepia filter on a digital photo." He continues, "we were pretty intentional about making this the first song on the album, underlining the way that this is a new phase of the band." Cohen says. The moody, scintillating "Burns Effect" serves as one of the biggest pushes forward for the Tanlines sound, and for Emm as a lyricist. He says that the song is "deep and dark and dangerous, but in a fun way. It's one of the more personal tracks on the album where this ungrounded part of my personality surfaces, but with an over-the-top machismo, almost an ironic character." Other tracks like "New Reality" and closer "The Age of Innocence" are also demonstrably guitar-forward in ways that wouldn't seem obvious for Tanlines (despite Emm's pedigree in austere avant-garde math-rock outfits Storm & Stress and Don Caballero), but Emm is less sure The Big Mess is a total departure. "I'm trying to make these absolutely simple things," he says. "I think of these songs as Rothko paintings: They're big and they're bold and they're seemingly straightforward, but they have a lot of depth and they engage with you and make you feel something."

As the siren’s song echoes out of systems worldwide, perhaps we are (re)turning to the liquid age of dance; with natural ephemera such as moss, sentiments for ecology such as swamps, and mercurial aspects of water all absorbing the aesthetic forefront. A return to nature, a deep dive under the lily pads. Here Marijn with her debut EP guides our plunge, a trip previously taken via her podcasts on Kulture Lab, where you can also find her previously released music.

Whispers from the ethereal plane drift around the headspace, a rumble in the distance of sound traversing the water, voices to guide and to keep you from floating too far from the line. Audio hallucinations are aplenty when submerged, a serenity of space, yet distant growls assure that peace is not always 2 be found. The melancholia within the daydream, the pang of loss caught in reflections, internal and from the water, with the lily pads floating above as a guiding entity, an anchor, something to hold. Under the lily pads we rumble.

On the flip everyone’s fav casual breaks n rave hooligan Luca Lozano asks the recurring thought within dance music, a question we quest, yet rarely want the answer. Abstraction via squeaks and tweaks, you better bop your bleepin’ head to this 1.

‘Leave A Message’ leaves the tranquil waters disturbed and rippling to the outer edges, providing jumps for the lily pads to ride on the incoming tide, with the ebb and flow making way for a storm surge. Aka big beats are the best, a notion the directly honest final track ‘Made (Drums)’ follows, bringing a twisted jack attack logic to a deranged assembly of samples, a manic orchestra of tumbling drums who have conspired to freak out, albeit with cute bubbles underneath to revel in the allure of sonic mania.

A pivotal record for contemporary times; bright, free, adamant, optimistic. Brain Worms is RVG's fullest, most pristine album yet. All throughout Brain Worms, it's apparent that this is a band in very fine form. Album opener 'Common Ground' sets the tone for what's to come; a shiny, thrilling, punch of an album, with all the beloved RVG hallmarks. Vager's voice is unfiltered and commanding as ever when delivering her clever, not-quite-ironic lyrics. Here, though, those lyrics feel so much less resigned to yearning, and so much more defiant and joyous. 'Tambourine' is the only Covid song Vager wrote when "trying not to write Covid songs", and it's a painfully honest portrait of grieving mid-isolation. 'Brain Worms' tells the all-too-familiar story of a person falling down the internet rabbit hole and finding comfort in conspiracies. 'Nothing Really Changes' is a keys-heavy new wave-ish thing, while closer 'Tropic of Cancer' sparkles with Vager's self-assured new manifesto: I know what I'm like, and I know how I get. If you think I'm strange, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Bloxham, Nolte, and Wallace are flawlessly adept in bringing Vager's songwriting to life. Recorded in London at Snap Studios with James Trevascus (Nick Cave & Warren Ellis, PJ Harvey), all ten tracks surge with lush sounds and clear intentions and the magic of an acoustic guitar once owned by Kate Bush, given to her by Tears for Fears (who, legend has it, wrote 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' on it). Between the four bandmates lead singer and guitarist Vager, guitarist Reuben Bloxham, drummer Marc Nolte and bassist Isabele Wallace this is the most confident they've ever felt in RVG. They've moved past their influences, pushed themselves, and tried new things. And they have made a record they can, by all accounts, call their best. "Brain Worms feels like the antithesis to what a post-pandemic record could easily be. For a band who were already writing music about being reclusive "we were depressed and not going outside on our first two albums" the enforced isolation and time to think gave Vager space to write about anything she wanted. And, it turned out, she was ready to write about acceptance. "If we could only make one more album, it would be this one," says Vager. "Easily one of the most vital bands on the Aussie scene today" Rolling Stone "A calling card for outsiders... dynamic and vital post-punk" The Guardian

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

In a world of endless, bottomless content, to find something that stands out from the crowd is a rare thing. But it’s something that 7ebra manage without breaking a sweat. Based in Malmö, twin sisters Inez and Ella Johansson deal in sparkling indie-rock that’s pretty without being soft, sweet without losing its edge and catchy without being cheap. With Inez on guitar and vocals and Ella on keys, organ and Mellotron, their minimal set-up makes a virtue of simplicity – with a sliver of guitar fuzz, and organ lines snaking around stark, striking vocals, augmented by shivering harmonies, they don’t need a lot to make music that’s colourful, kaleidoscopic, and effortlessly original.

7ebra debuted in 2022 with the double-single “I Have A Lot To Say”/ “If I Ask Her”, two helpings of psych-tinged, street-smart rock and roll, and the music scene around them wasn’t slow to notice. They opened for the Future Islands and the Dandy Warhols, were picked out by Apple Music’s Matt Wilkinson as a Hidden Gem of 2022 and were booked for prestigious showcases SXSW and Eurosonic. With a packed schedule of shows across Europe and the UK already planned for 2023, their world looks set to get a lot bigger – something that their debut album Bird Hour makes certain. The record is a warm, elegant introduction to the sound 7ebra have crafted. The songs are full of personality and character, but also retain a little bit of enigma, a sense of keeping something secret to themselves. To unwrap that elusiveness is a daunting task, but one the listener can’t resist leaping into.

Ella and Inez’s parents played in bands as they were growing up, so picking up music was a natural thing for them. The origins of 7ebra start with Inez whiling away the hours playing guitar in her bedroom. “I learned by playing covers by myself in my room”, she says. “Ella didn’t do that as much, but we sometimes played and sang together, country songs”. Eventually she would start writing her own. Ella wasn’t involved originally (“we did play together a few times”, she says, “and it just went to shit laughs. We fought a lot”), and Inez was originally reluctant: “I was a bit unsure whether I wanted to be in a band with my sister. Because you get clumped together all the time, when you’re twins”. But Ella was keen to join, and eventually persuaded Inez to let her join for a show. It went – so well that producer Tore Johansson (The Cardigans, Franz Ferdinand), saw it and asked if they’d like to record with him. That changed things, says Ella: “It made us think there might be something in this music”. As a duo, 7ebra were in flight. “In the end, it’s kind of a nice thing too being sisters in a band”, Inez says. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. It just made sense to play together”.

On the album that they eventually came up with, the talent that caught Johansson’s eye is immediately obvious. Opener “Secretly Bad” has a way of walking along your nerves, an eerie echo of a hymn in Inez’s vocal backed by a swirl of woozy blend of guitars and organ. That’s followed up by “I Like To Pretend”, an easily charming song that has a sleepy brightness about it, like morning sunlight breaking through a window. They take a couple of different genres for a whirl on Bird Hour – they’re tense and snappy on “If I Ask Her”, breezy and cocky on “Lighter Better”, and there’s even a couple of droplets of blues and folk in the mix, in the raw intensity of the emotions in the slower songs, the vulnerability and aching of songs like “Lean” and “Stripey Horsey”. The record has a way of sweeping you along in its mood and tones, fuelled in part by the band’s use of repetition, sometimes fast and fevered, sometimes crawling and hypnotic. The duo’s musical input blends perfectly, with Inez’s guitar and vocals forming the core, and Ella drawing in the detail with keys, organ, and harmonies, to really bring out the vivid nature of the songs. Indie rock that’s melodic and sweet, but with enough shadow mixed in to make it really compelling.

On Bird Hour, what strikes you first about 7ebra’s sound is how fully formed it is, how much they’ve carved out their own sonic territory, perfected by trial and error in the studio with Johansson. “Tore wanted us to try everything possible”, says Ella. “We had moments where things weren’t working. But that was necessary in order to find the good stuff”. 7ebra’s signature might be found in the deft way they deal with emotion – unafraid of being open, but a little too clever to make things too clear cut: “You can’t take yourself that seriously. It’s too emotional to take it seriously, to start hating yourself. But at the same time, it is quite serious”, says Ella. Another trademark is the simplicity – a 7ebra song has just enough to make it work, and nothing more. “I think it was important for me that our voices were at the centre of the songs”, says Inez, “that all the little melodies have their place, and don’t get overwhelmed. With lyrics, I sometimes come up with something, and just feel ‘there’s no need to add more to this’. Sometimes a line works by itself. You don’t have to add a bunch of lyrics”. Finally, the album’s themes are ones that will resonate with most people that have set foot on this planet. “I guess it’s about trying to understand yourself, in relation to others. Just life. ‘Why am I not good at this, why is this thing happening to me, why is this thing so hard, why am I so stupid?’”, laughs Ella.

7ebra haven’t been around for very long – but a handful of songs and their fizzing live shows have stirred up the biggest buzz in Scandinavian music in quite a while. Their debut album justifies it all. It showcases the magic they’re capable of conjuring up, and hints at even more to come in the future. But from where they are right now, they’ve made something very special. Bird Hour takes all that promise and turns it into something concrete, in the form of one of the year’s best rock debuts.

Sasu Ripatti presents the third volume in his "Dancefloor Classics" series with five 10" releases coming throughout 2023. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label "Rajaton".

--
”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.

He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?

He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.

”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”

New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.

She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”

”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

--

* 300 COPIES FOR UK/EU* With a friendship stretching back nearly 20 years, it strangely ended up being a couple of childhood photographs that finally brought Ben Chasny and Rick Tomlinson together as collaborators. Both have rich musical backgrounds: Chasny being a member of the psych-rock outfit Comets on Fire but probably best known for his solo project, Six Organs of Admittance, while Tomlinson has released numerous records as Voice of the Seven Woods/Thunders and under his own name. “A mutual acquaintance, Jamie Tugwell, took me to go see Rick play live around 2005,” remembers Chasny. “Jamie kept saying how Rick was sort of an ornery fellow and that I would like him a lot. He was right. I loved his guitar playing right away, which seemed so far from what a lot of players were doing. We had drinks and hit it off. We remained friends over the years.” Chasny became a regular visitor to Tomlinson when on tour in the UK and one particular stay unearthed something serendipitous that would kickstart the making of a joint album. “I was staying at Rick’s house after a show and I looked over and saw a photo of him in a Halloween costume as a box of matches,” Chasny recalls. “It cracked me up because I have a similar photo of me as a robot and I tried to explain to him how it matched his photo.” About 6 months later Chasny found it and sent it to Tomlinson to show him the uncanny likeness of their childhood outfits. “Pretty soon after that we realized we needed to do a duo record and have those photos be on the cover,” says Chasny. “The entire record comes from the photos on the cover.” Tomlinson adds: “It was a pretty odd coincidence. Even down to us both standing on flags with a conifer behind us. We obviously had no option but to use these for the sleeve.” Recorded at Tomlinson’s house in Todmorden over three days one June, initially the pair didn’t quite know where they wanted to go with their musical direction. Tomlinson kept pulling out super rare records from his vast collection for inspiration and they sat and listened to the solo piano recordings of Popol Vuh’s Florian Fricke but they knew they needed to land on something that was intrinsically them. “We knew we wanted to do a record together but we weren’t sure what direction to take,” says Chasny. “When we first sat down to work out some ideas it was pretty much just us getting down to finally having a guitar showdown where each of us tried to outdo each other with flashy moves and ridiculous riffs and playing. After we got that out of our system, we were able to settle down and concentrate on a mood for the record to focus on.” The result is 6 instrumental tracks that capture beautifully fluid and interlocking guitars played with deft grace and skill but also a subtle looseness. On the 9 minute-plus ‘Wait For Low Tide’, the sparse and spacious back and forth playing becomes utterly hypnotic, neatly capturing the kind of natural and intuitive playing that can only come from music made between friends who understand the crucialness of leaving space for one another. While acoustic guitars are the primary means of expression on the record - from the soothing and gentle ‘i’ to the intricate playing of ‘Waking of Insects’ - the pair delve into ambient drone tape loop territory on the humming 16 minute ‘Paths of Ocean Currents and Wind Belts’, which further adds to the deeply textural, spacious and immersive feel of the album. All the tracks were recorded in one take, with the titles all stemming from translations from the Chinese book, The Dream Pool Essays, and then mixed in London at Jimmy Robertson's SNAFU studio, with additional mixing and mastering from Andrew Liles. The laid back, breezy and spontaneous approach to making this record is one that was reflective of the pair’s friendship and camaraderie, with their relationship ultimately driving the tone and feel of the finished album. “We hiked around the countryside, climbed into church bell towers, drank delicious beer in the middle of sunny afternoons, and had fantastic dinners,” says Chasny of the three-day recording period. “I think all of that wound up in the music. I really had the best time in the world.

Mo H. Zareei (mHz) returns to Imprec/Cassauna with Proof Of Identity, an album of pulsating, pattern-based electronic pieces that evolve in ways reminiscent of Steve Reich's early work or Philip Glass' Music In 12 Parts. With Proof Of Identity, Zareei confronts issues surrounding identity and authorship in composition specifically when created by non-Western musicians. He simultaneously tackles orientalism and the normative take on identity politics.

Artist's Statement:

More than a decade ago, I made a piece of beat-based electronic music and titled it "Middle Eastern IDM" for a course assignment. After listening to it in class, my professor asked what was Middle Eastern about it. It was only a year after I had left Iran to study in the US, and I didn't know that I could say "I am. I made the piece". So I went back and superimposed a sample of Egyptian protest chants on top of the piece, to make it "sufficiently Middle Eastern".

What prejudiced conservatism and performative liberalism share is gatekeeping practices that box one in a preconceived state of otherness. While the former overtly regards that otherness as inferior, the latter exoticises it through patronising paternalism. To me, it is especially troubling when exclusionary practices are driven by some form of overzealous "diversity and inclusion" agenda. If you don't fit the diversity box they've made for you, too bad. It's your fault for being "insufficiently diverse". "Poor thing, you've been colonised!", they tell you, as they claim ownership over a collection of frequencies and rhythms. When you look at who gets to decide if something's indigenous enough, you see how decolonisation itself has been colonised.

When you listen to this piece, I'm very happy for you to keep in mind that it was made by someone from Iran. But I might need to clarify that this piece has nothing to do with sufism and the whirling dervishes, the interweaving patterns of the Persian carpet, the poetry of Rumi, or Islamic architecture. And if you hear those moments of "non-western" sonorities, that is because I have constructed this piece from samples of a piece of Iranian traditional music – an overplayed piece that was all over TV and radio while I was growing up Iran, one that I never found particularly inspiring or interesting. Here, I have tried to make it more interesting by completely taking it apart and reconstructing it through my personal compositional techniques, aesthetic preferences, and a wide range of musical influences. So in short, while this piece might not sound like your archetypical Iranian music, I assure you that it is Iranian enough.

Eric Emm and Jesse Cohen of Tanlines are indie-rock lifers turned reasonable, happy middle-aged fathers of two, figuring out their place in a chaotic culture and industry that can no longer command their full attention. They are emblematic of a particular time and place that doesn't really exist anymore, yet here they are existing, and thriving, in 2023. The Big Mess came together when Emm and his family moved from Brooklyn to rural Connecticut, while Cohen launched a marketing career and a successful podcast and stayed in the city. Emm continued writing songs_hundreds of them _ through all the weirdness of the past few years, but he wasn't exactly sure who he was writing them for. "I spent years figuring out in my mind, `What is my musical life going to look like?'" he says. "I just kept writing." Cohen gave Emm his blessing to continue Tanlines, even if his own contributions would be limited due to his own non-musical obligations. "I'm like, `Whatever you can do to keep this thing going, do it,'" Cohen says. And with that, Tanlines was reborn. By January 2022 Emm felt he had a body of work that made sense as a Tanlines album. Cohen spent ten days with Emm at his Connecticut studio, along with unofficial third Tanline Patrick Ford (!!!). This was tied together with a sleek final mix from Peter Katis (The National, Interpol) at his famed Tarquin Studios, resulting in a clear vision of what Emm's musical life was going to look like: The Big Mess. The first sounds on The Big Mess are the title track's coiled guitars and thumping drums, building into the kind of outsize, choral rock anthem artists like Tanlines were almost a reaction to. It is warm and nostalgic, and Cohen likens a lot of the prevailing mood to "a sepia filter on a digital photo." He continues, "we were pretty intentional about making this the first song on the album, underlining the way that this is a new phase of the band." Cohen says. The moody, scintillating "Burns Effect" serves as one of the biggest pushes forward for the Tanlines sound, and for Emm as a lyricist. He says that the song is "deep and dark and dangerous, but in a fun way. It's one of the more personal tracks on the album where this ungrounded part of my personality surfaces, but with an over-the-top machismo, almost an ironic character." Other tracks like "New Reality" and closer "The Age of Innocence" are also demonstrably guitar-forward in ways that wouldn't seem obvious for Tanlines (despite Emm's pedigree in austere avant-garde math-rock outfits Storm & Stress and Don Caballero), but Emm is less sure The Big Mess is a total departure. "I'm trying to make these absolutely simple things," he says. "I think of these songs as Rothko paintings: They're big and they're bold and they're seemingly straightforward, but they have a lot of depth and they engage with you and make you feel something."

Fresh out of high school, Hannah Jadagu released her debut EP, What Is Going On?, a collection of intimate bedroom pop tracks recorded entirely on an iPhone 7, which was, at the time, Jadagu's most accessible mode of production. An off-the-cuff approach to music making and instinctive ability to write unforgettable hooks belied the intensity of Jadagu's subject matter. What Is Going On? confronted some of the nation's most urgent struggles through Jadagu's compassionate perspective. What Is Going On? built on the small online fanbase Jadagu had developed by releasing music on SoundCloud for years as she realized her growing passion for songwriting. Now, Jadagu is releasing Aperture, her first LP and most ambitious work to date. Written in the years between graduating from high school in Mesquite, TX and her sophomore year of college in New York, Aperture finds Jadagu in a state of transition. "Where I grew up, everyone is Christian; even if you don't go to church, you're still practicing in some form," Jadagu says, laughing. "Moving out of my small hometown has made me reflect on how embedded Christianity is in the culture down there, and though I've been questioning my relationship to the church since high school, it's definitely a theme on this album, but so is family." As a kid, Jadagu followed her older sister - a major source of inspiration - to a local children's chorus, where she received choral training. "I hated it," Jadagu admits. "But it taught me how to harmonize, how to discover my tone, how to recognize and write melody." The aching single "Admit It" is dedicated to Jadagu's sister, whose love and impeccable taste have been a constant since Jadagu was a kid. The siblings were raised on mom's Young Money mixtapes and the Black Eyed Peas (to whom Hannah credits her love of vocoder) but it was in the sanctity of her sister's car that Jadagu discovered the indie artists who inspire her work. With Aperture, Jadagu faced the challenge of finding a co-producer capable of complementing her work without dominating it. Enter Max Robert Baby, a French songwriter and producer who captured Jadagu's attention with his take on Aperture's lead single "Say It Now." The duo worked remotely, sending stems to one another via email, before meeting in-person for the first time at Greasy Studios on the outskirts of Paris. "When I recorded my EP, it was all MIDI, but in the studio Max and I worked with a ton of analog instruments," Jadagu says. "Every track on this album, except for 'Admit It,' was written first on guitar. But the blanket of synths throughout helps me move between sensibilities. There's rock Hannah, there's hip-hop Hannah, and so on. I didn't want any of the songs to sound too alike." An aperture is defined as an opening, a hole, a gap. On a camera, it's the mechanism that light passes through, allowing a photographer to immortalize a moment in time. For Jadagu, the word perfectly encapsulates the mood of her debut album. In the years it took her to complete, she faced moments of darkness, sure, but the process of making it was ultimately a cathartic experience, one she now shares with you. Let the light in.

Tape

Fresh out of high school, Hannah Jadagu released her debut EP, What Is Going On?, a collection of intimate bedroom pop tracks recorded entirely on an iPhone 7, which was, at the time, Jadagu's most accessible mode of production. An off-the-cuff approach to music making and instinctive ability to write unforgettable hooks belied the intensity of Jadagu's subject matter. What Is Going On? confronted some of the nation's most urgent struggles through Jadagu's compassionate perspective. What Is Going On? built on the small online fanbase Jadagu had developed by releasing music on SoundCloud for years as she realized her growing passion for songwriting. Now, Jadagu is releasing Aperture, her first LP and most ambitious work to date. Written in the years between graduating from high school in Mesquite, TX and her sophomore year of college in New York, Aperture finds Jadagu in a state of transition. "Where I grew up, everyone is Christian; even if you don't go to church, you're still practicing in some form," Jadagu says, laughing. "Moving out of my small hometown has made me reflect on how embedded Christianity is in the culture down there, and though I've been questioning my relationship to the church since high school, it's definitely a theme on this album, but so is family." As a kid, Jadagu followed her older sister - a major source of inspiration - to a local children's chorus, where she received choral training. "I hated it," Jadagu admits. "But it taught me how to harmonize, how to discover my tone, how to recognize and write melody." The aching single "Admit It" is dedicated to Jadagu's sister, whose love and impeccable taste have been a constant since Jadagu was a kid. The siblings were raised on mom's Young Money mixtapes and the Black Eyed Peas (to whom Hannah credits her love of vocoder) but it was in the sanctity of her sister's car that Jadagu discovered the indie artists who inspire her work. With Aperture, Jadagu faced the challenge of finding a co-producer capable of complementing her work without dominating it. Enter Max Robert Baby, a French songwriter and producer who captured Jadagu's attention with his take on Aperture's lead single "Say It Now." The duo worked remotely, sending stems to one another via email, before meeting in-person for the first time at Greasy Studios on the outskirts of Paris. "When I recorded my EP, it was all MIDI, but in the studio Max and I worked with a ton of analog instruments," Jadagu says. "Every track on this album, except for 'Admit It,' was written first on guitar. But the blanket of synths throughout helps me move between sensibilities. There's rock Hannah, there's hip-hop Hannah, and so on. I didn't want any of the songs to sound too alike." An aperture is defined as an opening, a hole, a gap. On a camera, it's the mechanism that light passes through, allowing a photographer to immortalize a moment in time. For Jadagu, the word perfectly encapsulates the mood of her debut album. In the years it took her to complete, she faced moments of darkness, sure, but the process of making it was ultimately a cathartic experience, one she now shares with you. Let the light in.

buen clima is the solo project of producer, composer and DJ Felipe Castro (Santiago, 1993). Under that alias, he makes a sometimes clean, sometimes dirty mix of techno, house and electro, among other styles, with a soft spot for high BPMs, big, glossy pad sounds and interlocking rhythms. With a background in classical music and free improvisation, his productions and live performances often bring into them unexpected moments of noise, unusual influences and, above all, humour.

« This EP is comprised of five tracks written between 2020 and 2022, and it's got quite a bit of contrast among them, as well as some common threads. Some are gritty and noisy, some are a bit more amiable. However, they all show signs of recurring obsessions with certain rhythms, certain synth sounds, and share a sense of fun and humour. Each is an exploration of different production and synthesis techniques.

Big Butibit Chess Master Pro v.3.5 is on the lighter side, with some big warm pads and jazzy drum sound. It's kind of a sunny ghettotech cut, if that makes any sense. The synth part has a spontaneous feel, it was recorded pretty much in one take.

>:) Is a heavier club track, made to go a little evil, a little mischievous. It's full of squelchy sounds and has a drum part that sounds like a never ending Street Fighter combo, or a bunch of beer bottles being opened one after the other.

Forma/Contenido is also on the darker side, with a droning, oppressive mass of sound that accumulates and evolves all throughout the track. It's very much inspired by the piece "I am sitting in a room" by Alvin Lucier, and is, in fact, a sort of live version of the same premise, a long feedback loop of the voice and the beat recorded and played in the studio.

Arturito is how we call R2D2 in Latin America (or at least in Chile), and it's also my father's name. We both love the original Star Wars and this is a little tribute to that. I had a lot of fun making this track, using only Ableton's Operator synth to make 90% of the sounds. It's a bouncy, evolving electro cut with a lot of quirky bleeps and bloops.

Pequeña midi is definitely the heart of the EP, a slower track made for my cat, who's sitting in my lap as I'm writing this. The rhythms and the sounds are a musical representation of how I imagine her life is like, and of her little games, running around the house. In terms of style I feel like this is what it would sound like if Yellow Magic Orchestra did a slowed down footwork track (play it at 160 BPM if you don't believe me!). »