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The prolific, virtuosic original Bjarki Sigurðarson returns to the concept album format, with ‘A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle’. It’s the first LP to be released on Differance.

‘A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle’ explores the psychological landscape of contemporary social issues, offering a sideways rumination on lifestyle dilemmas and wellness obsessions, presenting itself as a response to the modern condition. It combines storytelling with innovative sound textures – encouraging listeners to pause and contemplate the absurdities of contemporary life. Neither a critique nor an endorsement, it represents an honest exploration of our world through Bjarki’s sonic lens, gleaming a heart of darkness, but eventually finding light.

The album utilises hyper-stereo techniques, soothing melodies, complex audio structures, AIgenerated voices and sampled vocals – influenced by Coil, Genesis P- Orridge, and Paul Lansky. Bjarki investigates how specific frequencies can impact consciousness, awareness, mood, and mental state, thereby influencing our perception of reality. His vaporous sound design provides a listening experience that bridges the physical and imaginative realms; sometimes placing the listener in contemplative sanctuary, and at others making them lost – somewhere strange, uneasy, disconnected.

Bjarki on his Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle

“This new album has been two years in the works. It’s sort of my take on all the social weirdness and wellness obsessions happening right now. It kicked off with a track I started in California – the story of a soul that got born into the wrong womb. During that time, I was noticing more and more of this whole ‘wellness religion’ everywhere – people trying to sell you ‘good vibes’ and random people offering you life coaching sessions on Instagram who maybe have less life experience than a houseplant. All these apps that track our every move; it’s like they’re repackaging control and calling it ‘self care’. Capitalism in yoga pants. Thats when I started putting ‘A Guide To Hellthier Lifestyle’ concept together. A never ending, self improvement rabbit hole. We are all being sold this idea that we are not quite enough and we need to buy our way out to being better.

At one point, I took a break from the album and started working on another album full of satirical speeches, AI generated voices, where I create my own voices and type in some ideas of speeches, taking the piss out of wellness gurus and life coaches. I messed a lot with these AI voice generators, creating these deep, faux serious monologues. Proper weird stuff, but it cracked me up. Reminded me of the early days, when I was 13, making tracks on Fruity Loops, mucking around with text-to- speech generators. After the break I came back to finish ‘The Guide’ on a much deeper level.

I moved part of my studio to Latvia and continued in the countryside for few months. I realised that I just wanted something beautiful. So, yeah, this album is all of that. It’s spiritual, bits and pieces from the past, all these weird cultural moments, and whatever strange places my head goes. It’s a reflection, a rebellion, a bit of a piss take. But mostly, it’s just me, doing what I do.” - Duncan Clark

The album will be released only in its entirety, December 13th digi, with no advance singles.

It’s time to celebrate an amazing decade for pop music – as popular today as it was back then...and with so many fantastic hits to choose from we had to make this a 100 track selection across 5 CDS – including over 50 #1 singles… Time to immerse yourself in the decade that never stops… legwarmers on – it’s : ‘Also available on 5-LP boxset featuring 78 huge hits, including 40 #1s, over 10 sides of vinyl, pressed in 5 different colours, one for each LP – red, yellow, pink, green and blue. Then we have a 3LP set featuring 45 unforgettable hits, including 27 #1s across 3-LPs, pressed in a red, a blue and a green vinyl

In the fall of 2022, celebrated UK chill-out institution Seahawks landed in Los Angeles for the first time in their 15-year history, with plans to record a sweeping new age downtempo "exploration of visionary California."

Instead, they immediately fell ill with flu (Fowler collapsed next to a taco truck; 911 was called), and were bedridden for the better part of a week. Upon recovering, they resituated at the synthesizer sanctuary of Brian Foote (Peak Oil, Kranky, Leech), channeling their post-sickness psychedelia into one of the band's lushest and most elevated creations to date: Time Enough For Love. Inspired by the "groove and mood" of Harry Nilsson demos, as well as its wider 70's wavelength - Rhodes, Wurlitzer, wood paneling - Seahawks transposed their classic post-rave ambient exotica onto a warm and woozy Golden State palette. Buoyed by the liquid touch of English maestro Kenny Dickenson on keys, the results rank high among the duo's smoothest and most multi-sensory voyages. "Sail Across The Moon" delivers on its title, a simmering, phaser-smeared cruise through the beauty of the night. "Messengers" echoes the cosmic lounge of Air's Moon Safari, shuffling, weightless, and ethereal, while "Falling Deep" reaches for the stars, pure cascading bliss, the ecstatic moment writ large.

The album skews steadily more astral as it progresses, drifting towards jazzy, galactic outer reaches. "Like A Grain Of Sand" opens with a spoken sample by the celebrated late American poet Rachel Sherwood ("The children watch, breathless / with the birds / They feel an emanation / from this shuddering place"), before taking flight on a Balearic trip through island house, PM Dawn gold dust, upright bass meditation, and kaleidoscopic light. A remix of the title track by Chicago trio Purelink closes the record in a suitably subdued and skittery state of mind. Time Enough For Love radiates color, complexity, and positivity, infused by the "life enhancing" nature of the band's time in Los Angeles - sunsets, sound systems, and sativa, framed by coastlines and cloudbanks, the city's mystic sprawl glittering beneath purple dusk.

This band, and this album, function as critical missing links that takes one from The Fall to Yard Act, from Television and The Minutemen to Parquet Courts and Sleaford Mods, from punk as a sound to punk purely as an ethos. While any Van Pelt album is a stand alone album, the unique approach they take begs one to enter their world and dig deep in.

RELATED TO: The Lapse, Native Nod, St Vincent, Blonde Redhead, Enon, Jets to Brazil, Vague Angels, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, American Football, Texas is the Reason.

‘The lines between post-hardcore, indie rock, and emo blurred on the two mid-’90s full-lengths from the Van Pelt.’ Pitchfork

‘New York City’s The Van Pelt are an influential, but too often overlooked indie rock band -- cult favorites for many an emo-inclined crate digger.’ Consequence of Sound

‘...should be mentioned a lot more than they are when you talk about the history of emo.’
Washed Up Emo

Back in the day there was this thing called an A&R guy. They would hang out at small venues looking to throw money at the next big thing. In the early 90s, everyone was looking for the next Nirvana of course. NYC's The Van Pelt had just released an album of anthems called "Stealing From Our Favorite Thieves" that seemed to be just that. The only thing is, they didn't want to sign. Legend has it $2 million was turned down over pierogies and coffee one Monday morning because The Van Pelt didn't want to risk crashing and burning. Instead, they were gunning for a long and stable stride even if that meant they would largely remain out of the public's eye forever.

Lack of willingness to play the game didn't mean people weren't waiting with baited breath for their follow up album though. In 1997 The Van Pelt released "Sultans of Sentiment", an album nearly devoid of the anthems and licks people were expecting. In fact, it's a complete bummer of an album that subjects the listener to the point on life's curve where the hubris of youth gives way to a cresting crashing defeat no kid with heart could ever have seen coming. Seeing as humanity are sick fuckers who revel in the misery of both themselves and others, the popularity of Sultans grew and grew and continues to win new loyal fans even today. It's for this classic album The Van Pelt has never fallen off the radar.

That being said, their swan song "The Speeding Train" was recorded while they were working on their third album. In any other age, in any other way, this song would have been a hit. The Van Pelt broke up mid-recording, released Speeding Train as a single, and the rest of the songs from that session didn't see the light of day until they were released in 2014 as the "Imaginary Third" lp.

Why are we here talking about them today in 2023? Because in preparation for the release of "Imaginary Third" The Van Pelt started playing some reunion shows. Soundchecks revealed to them that this band has a voice that was prematurely muted by their inability to see clearly in the thick of it. Returning to explore just what that is 25 years later has led to this first collection of 9 songs, "Artisans & Merchants". This is not a reunion album. This is vindication for that decision made over pierogies and coffee decades ago. The Van Pelt is a band in it for the long haul, free from whatever trappings the mayflies of trends and markets may bring.

For lovers of The Van Pelt, listening to "Artisans & Merchants" is like hearing the voice of a dear friend you haven't seen in years, a friend you used to share countless beers with over banter that went nowhere other than delivering a solid night. Your friend is older, they've changed. In some ways you're worried for them, looks like they might be teetering on the brink of something. In other ways it's the same old them, a nugget of a soul too unique to ever be altered. It's for those unfamiliar with The Van Pelt though for whom we should be truly jealous. This is a stand alone album, incredible vital song writing in and of itself regardless of the long history this band has. The climax of the single "Image of Health" perhaps describes the beautiful desperation best: "And you never felt more alive / Than when the priest came to read you your rites!"

The last couple of years have seen a renaissance for West Coast singer-songwriters. LA-based youngsters such as Drugdealer and Sylvie have attracted considerable attention releasing warm and mellow records tonally reminiscent of the early 70s. Most fans of this new/old sound are unaware of Bart Davenport's early explorations in the same sonic territory. His now 20-year-old "Game Preserve"album should gain an appreciative new audience with its first ever vinyl release.

In the year 2000, Bay Area troubadour Bart Davenport and several other musicians were recruited by a major tech corporation in Seattle to work on an algorithm-based music matching/search engine. It was what looked like the beginning of a promising career. After a year, however, the project was shelved. Bart and his colleagues were laid off with a healthy severance package... on the 12th of September, 2001. Not only had the musician's life changed, so had the world. Rather than blow the money on a holiday or new car, Bart knew he had to make a record. A proper album that meant something.

Back in Oakland, he entered Wally Sound Studios with former Kinetics bandmate Jon Erickson at the controls, and a swathe of talented local musicians. "With Game Preserve," Bart explains, "Jon and I really wanted to knock it out of the park. I wanted to utilize people from my old bands like Loved Ones drummer John Kent. I also invited my newer indie-pop friends from Call & Response, and a young Nedelle Torrisi. Harmony singing by The Moore Brothers was an essential ingredient on Game Preserve as well."

Both Erickson and Davenport fondly recall growing up in households where the music of The Carpenters, Joni Mitchell and The Eagles soundtracked their young lives. By the early 00s they were ready to reconnect with what is often referred to as the "Laurel Canyon" sound. "I'd buy used tapes at garage sales and play them in the car. "Ladies Of The Canyon" by Joni and Jackson Browne's first album were both in heavy rotation. Jon Erickson was getting deeper into the Steely-Mac-Doobie yacht-rock sound in earnest. A certain amount of childhood nostalgia led a lot of us back to that part of the 70s. I'd flirted with classic soft-rock on my first album, but that record was pretty scattered esthetically. I wanted my next one to be more focused. Jon and I made some ground rules: no electric guitars (except on 'Bar-Code Trees'). No synths. Most importantly, all the songs have an air-tight, super dead, close mic'd drum sound. Putting these sorts of limitations on the sessions will give your record a specific quality. In the case of "Game Preserve"it's mostly about tight drums, acoustic instruments and analog production. We used a 24-track, two-inch tape machine for tracking, then ran the mixes through an analog board straight to a 1/4 inch master tape."

While the album's sonic palette may be firmly planted in 1970, Davenport's songwriting covers a sizable landscape of moods and reflections. From the quasi-flamenco intro of 'Sweetest Game' to the somber Wurlitzer of 'Nowhere Left To Go', to the 12-string shimmer of 'Intertwine', "Game Preserve" tells a story of young love, lost innocence and redemption, crossing borders and oceans along the way.

Released in 2003 on family-run Oakland label Antenna Farm, the ultra-analog sounding "Game Preserve" was only made available on digital formats, including CD. Copies were later pressed by labels in Germany and Spain; the latter being one country the album actually did well in, establishing Bart Davenport with a small but loyal fanbase he still enjoys today. Two European tours as support for Kings of Convenience also helped gain a foothold on the continent. Back in the US, however, Davenport and his sophomore album remained quite obscure.

Limited promotion meant it did little, but for the music lovers that heard it, the album undoubtedly remains a classic of the era, deserving far more. Twenty years on, it now finally receives its vinyl debut. "I personally think it holds up well," says Bart of the album two decades later. "The idea was to make something that could be an homage to late 60s/early 70s West Coast pop but hopefully timeless as well. Years on, I hear it as just that. It was a colorful and brief period of my life that felt at times like it could last forever. I discovered the joy of working in a proper studio with a perfect cast of characters. I'm still very close with all these people and still play music with many of them."

8/10 FULL-PAGE LEAD REVIEW IN UNCUT: “TALENTED ARTISTS SUCH AS ALDOUS HARDING , DELANEY DAVIDSON, IVY ROSSITER AND MARLON WILLIAMS REPRESENT A FRESH COUNTRY-FOLK/AMERICANA MOVEMENT IN AND AROUND CHRISTCHURCH AND DUNEDIN. NADIA REID'S IMPECCABLE DEBUT WILL MAYBE SET A WIDER ORBIT IN MOTION.”
4/5 LEAD REVIEW IN MOJO: “INSPIRED DEBUT BY A YOUNG NEW ZEALAND SINGER-SONGWRITER YOU'LL FEEL YOU'VE KNOWN FOREVER. A WONDERFUL ALBUM"

SUNDAY TIMES DEBUT OF THE WEEK: "SHE RANKS ALONGSIDE LOW AND THE COWBOY JUNKIES FOR DELIVERING SLOW-BURN EMOTION"
"It has all that well-smoked wisdom, that mingling of strength and yearning that seems to charge the work of all my favourite female artists – Laura Marling, The Weather Station, Sharon Van Etten and Tift Merritt, to name but four. Reid is just 23, and since I am loathe to run that “old beyond her years” line, let us simply say that when I hear a young artist making an album as soulful and rich and self-possessed as Listen to Formation, Look for the Signs, I feel so thrilled not only for the existence of that record but for all the music they will make over all the years to come.” THE GUARDIAN PLAYLIST
6MUSIC ALBUM OF THE WEEK
A richness of voice; a depth of emotion; and wise beyond her years; with Listen To Formation, Look For the Signs, 23-year-old New Zealand native Nadia Reid has claimed her place as one of the country’s most evocative and profound young songwriters. Her music traces the sharp mountain peaks, azure coastline, and mirrored images of the land and sky that pinpoint her home country’s vast open landscapes.
Whether nerding about with friends, stunning audiences into silence with her spellbinding live shows or unwinding in the tranquillity of her favourite hometown spot overlooking Port Chalmers’ harbour through her large-rimmed spectacles, Nadia Reid has achieved a gloriously fresh and eloquent new folk sound. “I’ve been in New Zealand my whole life and guess at times I take for granted the serene beauty that I live so closely with,” she says of her music’s majestic affiliation with nature. Mapping out tales of change and loss, whilst drawing inspiration from reading, writing, the human condition, falling in and out of love, death, and birth - it all lends to a superbly balanced album that moves surreptitiously between sparse and fragile melancholia to beautifully brutal lyricism with a philosophical maturity that bellies her years.
Born in Auckland, Nadia’s acoustic roots stem from an upbringing in a musical household where attending folk clubs and festivals were regular occurrences on the family calendar. “I was lucky to witness a lot of live music and theatre performances because my mum was an actress. I was encouraged to learn piano and guitar, and attended a Steiner school where we spent a lot of time in nature, singing songs.” Before long Nadia was listening to The Be Good Tanyas with friend and fellow recording artist Aldous Harding, which spurred her chosen career path. “There was something spiritual about the Tanyas’ records - I vividly remember the goose-bump feelings up my arms, a true connection to the lyrics and vocals,” she recalls. “Aldous was the first person who told me I had a good voice and I thank her for that. I admire her as an artist and writer, and we like to keep up with what each other is up to.”
Creating her own enchanting wonderworld, each of Nadia’s songs explores the elements; truly organic, her vocals ebb, flow and soar but are always ignited with fire from the gut. Her lyrics clearly reference lush landscapes but equally reflect alienation provided by the surrounding Pacific Ocean and mortality of living in such close proximity to Mother Nature’s wrath, as experienced whilst living in Christchurch at the time of 2011’s devastating earthquake. “It shook the city to its core,” Nadia recalls. “I’m sure living through it has shaped my personality and writing. My first EP was recorded just months afterwards, it was a strange time. We were all quite fragile, but I was braver somehow.”
Boldly infusing folk with full flavour, Listen To Formation, Look For The Signs was produced by Ben Edwards, owner of Lyttelton Records in his Sitting Room studios with Nadia’s band consisting bassist Richie Pickard, guitarist Sam Taylor and percussionist Joe McCallum. Whilst 'Reaching Through’s rich but unhurried nature evokes She Hangs Brightly -era Mazzy Star and intricate nuances of Beth Orton are recalled on lead single ‘Call The Days’ which talks of moving to a new town and was the first song penned after Nadia moved from Christchurch to Wellington; spurred on by a “panic attack” and being “worried about making the right choices in life”. Elsewhere ‘Runway’ and ‘Some Are Lucky’ immediately channel Nadia’s love of TBGT’s Jolie Holland and appreciation for New Zealand’s Maori music by Maisey Rika and Anika Moa, plus the inspirational narratives of Kenyan-born Somali poet Warsan Shire.

We’re happy to cordially invite you to the REGRESSION SESSION, hosted by eternal Philadelphia scene flag bearers ZILLAS ON ACID!

And if you think this sounds awfully lot like a scam, you’re probably right: „Regression Session“ is just a front of their illegal black market operation, trading raw uncut gems on a large scale. Just listen to the opener and title track and you won’t exactly have a strong case for the Zillas selling out, but rough as it is, this thing is capable of destroying any dancefloor it touches.

Looking at their recent releases it’s fair to say the Z’s are on quite a run, putting out music on labels like Permanent Vacation, Throne Of Blood, Multi Culti or Ivan Smagghe’s Disques de la Mort. Tunes like the sneaky rough slow burners „Underling“ or „Start Digging“ sound like they could be lifted from the latter’s infamous DJ sets, while the deceptively titled „Cha Cha Cha“ or closer „Casual Observer“ justify the „Acid“ in the artist name. „Shining Snakes Across The Lake“ is what some years might have been called a mid-tempo house roller and probably counts as downtempo these days. Speaking of tempos, the penultimate „Sweet Days Of Discipline“ starts of masquerading as reaaally downtempo, but ends up throwing 155bpm kick drums at you, so better watch out, all you k-hole ravers! Let’s not forget to talk about „bquiet“, which is what you’d call mid-tempo house these days (125bpm) and uses the eternally banging combination of a jacking beat, a polyrhythmic bass line, some lead-synth stabs and talking vocal slices. You can practically smell the sweat.

So what’s left to say? What you see is what you get: They are Zillas, and they are on Acid. And they provide a collection of eight tunes that probably each don’t necessarily have a double-digit amount of tracks in their DAW projects, and that’s exactly what makes them so forceful. Join the regression session!

Gavin Vanaelst runs the space Aboli Bibelot in Antwerp where exhibitions and musical performances can happen side to side with dealings in centuries-old furniture and unique pieces of folk art or volkskunst. Gavin makes music under the aliases DJ Charme, Kassett and So Sorry. This is the first album under his birth name. Takeaway Loops cycles back to the days when Gavin was working as a courier for .

is a food delivery company. Their couriers - ehm, brand ambassadors, as the company prefers to call them - dressed in bright orange, they race their bikes around the city. They deliver meals and groceries for all sorts. Thanks to them, the privileged can stay tucked in their private spaces. Interaction between the two groups - the privileged and the brand ambassadors - is mostly kept to the bare minimum. And sparse communications are often driven by annoyances - “my Coke is warm because you kept it too close to the French Fries.” And on the streets the general public dis-approaches the brand ambassadors with pity. We tell our peers: “That’s not a good job,” and “stay away from the Sharing Economy.” Because, you know, in our capitalistic dollhouse we all stand our grounds and play our parts wholeheartedly.

During his shifts for , Gavin recorded location sounds on his phone at fast food restaurants while waiting on the orders he had to pick up and deliver. Later in his home studio Gavin added piano and electronics to this source material. The result: a gloomy soundtrack for a shadow world. Seven songs in evening blue with a bright orange glare.

A few years ago, our favorite Belgian publishing house Het Balanseer released Seizoenarbeid by Heike Geissler (available in English trough Semiotext(e)). Geissler writes about her job at Amazon in Leipzig. Because her writing and freelance work did not pay the bills any longer, she was forced towards this underprivileged shadow-world of unwanted jobs. Seizoenarbeid shed a light on freedom in an unfree world. A monument of ‘we are all in this, but not together’. Takeaway Loops gives us a similar peak in a world that is at the same time so visible, but then also very veiled for many. A world that we prefer to use, yet that most of us prefer not to see - a world that we don’t like to enter.

Last year at Harbourland subway station in Kobe i was mesmerized by its sound design, created by Hiroshi Yoshimura. For each part of the subway station he composed a short phrase. While walking trough the station, a full composition grows in your head. The looping melodies guide you trough a microworld. Trough a blue world of commuters, of the homeless, of the lonely, of the fast paced, of the tourist. Gavin creates a similar effect with Takeaway Loops. The tonality somehow corresponds to Yoshimura’s work. Yet instead of being guided trough a building, we are now taken to the after dark. You feel the concrete evening heat of the city. You hear the rain. Stiff fingers during cold winters’ nights. You are alone on the bike, cruising. Your maps app telling you where to go. You just left the fake leather bench of the well-lit pastiche interior of a fast food restaurant.

Next order, number ECN44! Please wait outside, sir?

We are pleased to announce the launch of a new series at Innervisions called “Quantum Spits”.

House music has been around for decades, and throughout its evolution, it has spawned numerous sub-genres. “Quantum Spits” aims to explore and celebrate this diversity by dedicating each release to a particular aspect of this thing we call House.
Our goal is to provide a platform for both established and up-and-coming producers to express their unique take on house music while also paying homage to the roots of the genre.

We are kicking off the series with Skatman, the Tunisian-born producer, DJ and label head. On „Rewarped“ he slams old school hip-hop samples into some raw and pumping house tracks, providing a fresh and up to date connection between these distinct musical eras to deliver six new cuts of raw concise electronic music.

“Taking familiar elements and giving them a fresh twist,” says Skatman aka Aziz Haddad.

How could this album, one of the biggest crossover country smashes of the ‘90s and a complete artistic triumph, remain a vinyl wallflower at this late date?! Well, we at Real Gone Music are pleased and proud to take this classic Mary Chapin Carpenter release to the dance with a special 2-LP expanded highlighter yellow vinyl edition that includes an entire bonus side featuring a live performance from 1994, the same year Stones in the Road was released! The accolades and accomplishments of this record are almost too numerous to list here: #1 on the Country charts, Top 10 on the Billboard 200 Pop charts, a number 1 Country hit with “Shut Up and Kiss Me,” other charting singles like “Tender When I Want to Be,” “House of Cards,” and “Why Walk When You Can Fly?”, and Grammies for Best Country Album and Best Female Country Vocal Performance. But hits and awards aside, what makes this album so special is that every song packs its own unique emotional punch, starting with the title tune that was first covered by Joan Baez; you could also point to the transcendent “John Doe No. 24” and the brilliant “End of My Pirate Days” as firsts among equals on this amazingly consistent and rewarding album (which Country Universe called the best Contemporary Country album of all time!).

Some credit must be given to the band that producer John Jennings assembled, including drummer Kenny Aronoff, keyboardist Benmont Tench, guitarists Lee Roy Parnell and Steuart Smith, and backing vocalists Trisha Yearwood, Shawn Colvin, and Linda Williams. But, as always with a Mary Chapin Carpenter album, it’s the songwriting that’s the real star: witty, wistful, personal, and REAL. With gorgeous hooks to boot! Side D includes the four tracks that came out on the Live at “Her Majesty’s Theatre” EP recorded in London, featuring a version of “Shut Up and Kiss Me,” and it all comes with two printed inner sleeves boasting lyrics. Released on its 30th anniversary with the full consent and support of the artist herself!

Here we have the third LP by the excellent Guy Hamper Trio, featuring James Taylor on Hamond organ, and Guy Hamper on guitar (sometimes called Childish) and what a first-class LP this is! 'Instrument of Evil' in particular has a very eerie vibe. We asked the man himself what was the inspiration for it? G.H. The track is the sequel to '7% Solution', which featured on the last Guy Hamper Trio LP (with Thee Headcoats standing in as rhythm section). A 7% Solution being the amount of morphine Dr Watson administered to Sherlock Holmes. For 'Instrument of Evil' I took Sherlock Holmes' later designation of his syringe as "an Instrument of Evil". This is originally a quote from the bible- "Wicked men do at times reject God's purpose for the state, transforming the good of civil government into an instrument of evil." Point of interest: Morphine addiction happens to tie in with another aspect of the song. In the section that nods to Elmer Bernstein's main title theme to the film of the book The Man With the Golden Arm, in which the main character is also a morphine addict. Another ingredient - we added six-string bass to that section in tribute to Jet Harris - he formerly of top group The Shadows, who recorded a great version of Bernstein's classic. To top it all off the record sleeve references the fine graphics of the great Saul Bass. The track also features contributions from Tom Morley (trumpet) and Anna Jordanous (sax) . Both Were a pleasure to work with. My job at the wheel is to basically make a playground and let Jamie, Anna and Tom loose in it with very little direction, apart from pointing out the swings and location of the roundabout. I told Tom "you're a Spanish trumpeter stood on a hill in Spain." For Anna, I think we said "go low and nasty." Other titles are taken from early poetry chapbooks I made in my youth. 'The First Creature is Jealousy' and 'Dog Jaw Woman' being examples. The title 'Incense Rising From a Censer' comes from Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, a book I really recommend. Prayer rises to God on the smoke of the incense burning in the censer. I imagine this track being some kind of antidote to 'Instrument of Evil'. They are all excellent tracks. I imagine film companies will be queuing up to use many of them.

In the heart of Offenbach, where the city's pulse synchronizes with the beat of the night, stands the illustrious Robert Johnson Club. For a quarter of a century, it has stood as a bastion of sonic exploration, a sanctuary for those who seek solace in the rhythm, and a beacon of inspiration for the global electronic music community. As it proudly raises its glass to toast 25 years of unrivaled musical excellence, the echoes of countless memories reverberate through its storied halls. To honor this landmark anniversary, „Live at Robert Johnson“ presents a kinda like masters blueprint of sound: "Tell Me Something Good - 25 Years of Famous When Dead!" This compilation, aptly named after the club's mantra, serves not only as a celebration of its rich history but also as a testament to the enduring legacy of the artists who have graced its stage. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, each track on the compilation is a sonic journey unto itself—a symphony of beats and melodies that weave together to tell the story of Robert Johnson's evolution over the past quarter-century. From the pulsating rhythms of underground techno to the ethereal melodies of deep house, the compilation encapsulates the club's eclectic spirit and unwavering commitment to pushing the boundaries of electronic music. But beyond the music lies something deeper—an intangible energy that permeates every aspect of Robert Johnson's existence. It's the sense of camaraderie that binds together the club's patrons and artists alike, the shared experience of losing oneself in the music, and the profound sense of belonging that transcends language and culture. As the compilation reverberates through the speakers, it serves as a rallying cry—a call to arms for all who have ever felt the transformative power of music. It's a reminder that, even in the darkest of times, there is beauty to be found in the simple act of coming together and losing oneself in the rhythm of the night. So let us raise our voices in celebration of Robert Johnson Club and the indelible mark it has left on the world of electronic music. Here's to 25 years of passion, of creativity, and of "something good" that will echo through the ages for generations to come.

Matter-of-factly, Lycox exclaims "Yaaahh" right at the beginning. That's an affirmation but in times of distress it can also mean resignation, something like "Yeah, whatever". Lycox says he was only freestyling though. Then the bassline appears. Elastic, expressive, full-bodied. And it's not even present the whole time. He was "trying to develop a new formula for the Kuduro beat."

Songs for the club? Most certainly. Different sensibilities, one same focused mind. Lycox evolves within tradition, he has mastered the groove, the ambience, the right tones. Simply called "Energia", the last track circles above wistfully, menacing but maybe just promising some sort of action. With a few drops one could almost switch over to a parallel universe of old school Trance, a reference that feels as alien here as maybe this track feels to someone for whom the standard Afro House sound represents modern African music.

These songs pile up in a threshold balanced between styles, sensations, maybe in the middle of life itself. Such a concentration of energy is bound to need release and that comes figuratively through details in the music reaching out to receptive ears. "To Bem Loko" explicitly tries to "literally drive everyone crazy on the dancefloor." Once again Lycox provides vocals, as in "Edson no Uige", about a friend who embarked on a trip to the Angolan province of Uige and came back speaking only the local dialect known as lingala. A nod to tradition, very emotional, without compromising complex arrangements. Consequently, we the listeners are kept believing there is still enough space for a bright future. To ears accustomed to Lycox productions the title "Contemporaneo" (opening of side B) reads like a redundancy, then.

Maybe this music can never be quite as massive as other Afro styles. Without sounding pretentious, it avoids simplistic patterns, it demands a bit more mental processing while it certainly aims to loosen the limbs. Universal in vocation, underground at the core, Lycox definitely calls it Batida but for some it is still Ghetto Music. Like DJ Veiga said when describing a previous release for Príncipe, Ghetto is home, though. Lycox adds it is a foundation of personality. "Few in our community will recognize your work when you come from the same environment, but once you establish your reputation outside of the neighbourhood and even outside of the country, people will look at you differently, as if you were a star."

Before you ancients out there turn your heads and scoff at the premise of a twenty-something rock-and-roll goofball calling himself an old-anything, consider this: Mac DeMarco has spent the better part of his time thus far writing, recording, and releasing an album of his own music pretty much every calendar flip. This Old Dog makes for his fifth in just over half a decade_bringing the total to 3 LPs and 2 EPs. According to the DMV, DeMarco is 26. But in working-dog years, ol' Mac here could easily qualify for social security. To stay gold, turns out all he needed was some new tricks. It was a little space_in time, location, and method_that inspired DeMarco while making the record. Moving from his isolated Queens home to a house in Los Angeles helped give the somewhat transient Canada-native a base, and a few more months on his calendar to create did their job as well. Arriving in California with a grip of demos he'd written in New York, he realized after a few months of setting up his new shop_complete with a few new toys_that the gap was giving him perspective (insert tooth joke here). Right off the bat, from the pops and clicks of the CR-78 drum machine and acoustic strums on the album-opening "My Old Man," the synth-drenched beauty of the second track, "This Old Dog," it's clear that DeMarco's bag is filled with new tricks indeed. This Old Dog is rooted more in a synth-base than any of his previous releases, but he is careful not to let that tactic overshadow the other instruments and overall "unplugged" mood of the work: "This is my acoustic album, but it's not really an acoustic album at all. That's just what it feels like, mostly," says DeMarco. Despite the changes considered during the creation of This Old Dog, Mac DeMarco's mid-twenties masterpiece, it's clear that the engine that motors him is in no danger of slowing down.

Michael Mayer albums don’t come round too often, which is one of many reasons why his fourth collection, The Floor Is Lava, is a genuine event. It’s been eight years since his last one, the collaborative & released on !K7; its predecessors, Mantasy (2012) and Touch (2004), took their sweet time, too. It’s no real surprise, given the many hats Mayer wears – globetrotting DJ, revered remixer, inveterate collaborator, and boss of both Kompakt and Imara – that his solo productions are relatively sparing. But this also speaks to their quality: Mayer’s name on a record sleeve is a sign of quality, of music that’s both looking to the future and calling back to the past, that balances the imperatives of the dancefloor and the loungeroom, that’s as exploratory as it is functional.

On The Floor Is Lava, Mayer seems to be taking the temperature of both the music that surrounds him (past and present), and the ides of the industry he works within. There’s that iconic album title, for a start. “The album’s mindset,” he says, reflecting on those four words together. For Mayer, it’s partly a critique of the way the industry boxes in both producer and listener, focuses them on genre, on market, on the next new thing: “Being a free minded spirit that transcends genres has become an uphill battle.” A battle worth fighting, though, and with The Floor Is Lava, the result is an album that’s varied, quixotic, idiosyncratic, charming, and deeply, addictively listenable.

Throughout, Mayer finds thrills in exploration and juxtaposition, allowing unexpected things to blossom and giving them their life, their platform, throwing the listener exciting curveballs: “It’s a DJ album by a DJ that’s easily bored.” Either easily bored, or endlessly curious, The Floor Is Lava is rich with ideas. It opens with “The Problem”, which looks back to look forward, embracing the rickety way early house productions threw samples together with gleeful abandon. Mayer mentions Pal Joey, and the scene around Rockers Hi-Fi and their Different Drummer imprint, as reference points, and you can hear that freewheeling spirit throughout.

It’s followed by “Vagus”, a slinky, sensual minimal house number that Mayer describes as his “musical catnip”. The flow of these two opening cuts defines the dynamic of The Floor Is Lava, defining the dialectical drive at its core: thesis and antithesis leads to synthesis, but with a welcome prickliness that means you’re always excited, always engaged. It’s also productive in the way it derives energy from rubbing genres and sounds against each other, in unexpected ways, for maximum musical frisson. There’s psychedelic techno on “Feuerstuhl”, more minimal techno with “Ardor” (Mayer mentions ‘Immer 1’ era 90s minimal as inspiration), slippery, Shepard-tone breakbeat through “Sycophant”, a lovely, lush vocal turn on the poppy “The Solution”.

The album closes with the melancholy “Süßer Schlaf”, where Mayer sets a poem by Goethe to one of his most haunted, moving pieces of music yet, in abstract tribute to a lost friend. It’s one of the most affecting moments on The Floor Is Lava. There’s also an update on 2020’s wild Brainwave Technology EP, with the surrealist glitter-stomp of “Brainwave 2.0” (check out those handclaps!),where Mayer’s thinking about the socio-political precipice of the now: “I’m reading with great interest about this whole complex of how humanity is about to cross so many lines and the implications that the resulting financial and educational inequality will bring.”

That’s The Floor Is Lava: then and now, brainwaves and nerve structures, problems and solutions, genres on fire; the real, the unreal, and the surreal. An album for the easily bored and the endlessly curious. Mayer has the last word, telling us all you need to know about the album’s spirit: “Burning for the cause, being zealous, being addicted to the heat of the night, the exuberant powers of music.”

Michael Mayer veröffentlicht nicht oft Alben, was einer von vielen Gründen ist, warum ‘The Floor Is Lava’ ein echtes Ereignis ist. Es sind acht Jahre vergangen seit seinem letzten Werk, dem Kollaborationsalbum &, das auf !K7 erschien; seine Vorgänger, Mantasy (2012) und Touch (2004), ließen ebenfalls auf sich warten. Es überrascht nicht wirklich, da Mayer viele Rollen gleichzeitig erfüllt – weltreisender DJ, vielbeschäftigter Remixer, unermüdlicher Kollaborateur und Chef von sowohl Kompakt als auch Imara – weshalb seine Solo-Produktionen eher sparsam ausfallen. Doch das spricht auch für deren Qualität: Ein Album mit Mayers Namen auf dem Cover steht für Qualität, für Musik, die sowohl in die Zukunft blickt als auch auf die Vergangenheit verweist, die das Gleichgewicht zwischen den Anforderungen des Dancefloors und des Wohnzimmers hält, die genauso erforschend wie funktional ist.

Auf The Floor Is Lava scheint Mayer sowohl die Musik um ihn herum (vergangen und gegenwärtig) als auch die Strömungen der Branche, in der er arbeitet, zu reflektieren. Da wäre zunächst der ikonische Albumtitel. „Die Grundhaltung des Albums“, sagt er, drückt sich in diesen vier Worte aus. Für Mayer ist es teilweise eine Kritik daran, wie die Industrie sowohl Produzenten als auch Hörer in Schubladen steckt, sie auf Genres, auf den Markt und auf das nächste große Ding fokussiert: „Ein freier Geist zu sein, der Genres überschreitet, ist zu einem steinigen Weg geworden.“ Ein Kampf, der sich jedoch lohnt, und mit The Floor Is Lava ist das Ergebnis ein Album, das vielfältig, eigenwillig, charmant und tiefsinnig, aber auch süchtig machend ist.

Im gesamten Album findet Mayer Freude an der Erforschung und Gegenüberstellung von Stilen, lässt unerwartete Dinge erblühen und gibt ihnen Raum, überrascht den Hörer mit spannenden Wendungen: „Es ist ein DJ-Album von einem DJ, der sich schnell langweilt.“ Entweder langweilt er sich schnell oder er ist unendlich neugierig – The Floor Is Lava ist reich an Ideen. Es beginnt mit „The Problem“, das in die Vergangenheit blickt, um nach vorne zu schauen, und die wilde Art, wie frühe House-Produktionen Samples mit fröhlicher Unbekümmertheit zusammenwarfen, aufgreift. Mayer nennt Pal Joey und die Szene um Rockers Hi-Fi und ihr Label Different Drummer als Referenzpunkte, und dieser freie Geist zieht sich durch das gesamte Album.

Es folgt „Vagus“, eine sinnliche Minimal-House-Nummer, die Mayer als seine „musikalische Katzenminze“ beschreibt. Der Fluss dieser beiden Eröffnungstracks definiert die Dynamik von The Floor Is Lava und den dialektischen Antrieb im Kern: These und Antithese führen zu einer Synthese, jedoch mit einer willkommenen Schärfe, die dafür sorgt, dass man immer aufgeregt und engagiert bleibt. Zudem gewinnt das Album Energie, indem es Genres und Klänge auf unerwartete Weise aneinanderreibt, um maximalen musikalischen Nervenkitzel zu erzeugen. Es gibt psychedelischen Techno in „Feuerstuhl“, mehr Minimal Techno mit „Ardor“ (Mayer erwähnt ‘Immer’ Ära Minimal als Bezugspunkt), gleitenden Shepard-Ton-Breakbeat in „Sycophant“ und einen lieblichen, üppigen Vocal-Auftritt im poppigen „The Solution“.

Das Album schließt mit dem melancholischen „Süßer Schlaf“, in dem Mayer ein Gedicht von Goethe vertont und eine seiner bisher eindringlichsten und bewegendsten musikalischen Kompositionen schafft, als abstrakten Tribut an eine verschiedene Freundin. Es ist einer der ergreifendsten Momente auf The Floor Is Lava. Ebenfalls gibt es ein Update der wilden Brainwave Technology-EP von 2020, mit dem surrealistischen Glitzer-Stampfer „Brainwave 2.0“ (hör dir diese Handclaps an!), in dem Mayer über den sozio-politischen Abgrund der Gegenwart nachdenkt: „Ich lese mit großem Interesse über diesen ganzen Komplex, wie die Menschheit dabei ist, so viele Grenzen zu überschreiten und welche Auswirkungen die daraus resultierende finanzielle und bildungstechnische Ungleichheit haben wird.“

Das ist The Floor Is Lava: Damals und heute, Gehirnwellen und Nervengeflechte, Probleme und Lösungen, brennende Genres; das Reale, das Unreale und das Surreale. Ein Album für die schnell Gelangweilten und die unendlich Neugierigen. Mayer hat das letzte Wort und sagt uns alles, was wir über den Geist des Albums wissen müssen: „Brennen für die Sache, leidenschaftlich sein, süchtig nach der Hitze der Nacht, den überschwänglichen Kräften der Musik.“

Techno House Connoisseurs are back with a proper VA full of acid and tech house delights for the heads. This EP has 5 dance floor whoppers for even the most discerning ear. Starting things off on the A side is Los Angeles duo Warehouse Preservation Society with a chunky bass heavy breakbeat-ish slammer called Fugitive Funk. Hypnotic west coast music at its finest. THC is stoked to welcome Londons Flash Mitra to the label. Flash's debut track is a psychedelic acid house gem perfect for those looking for something moody, dreamy and percussive. This jam will be welcomed on dance floors worldwide. Flip to the B side with THC stalwart Praus unleashing another low slung acid chugger. Magnetism creeps along working its way into your psyche with its warped and unusual vocal snippets and percussive rhythms topped with a healthy dose of 303. Big room cosmica muziks! Track 2 on the B finds label head Space Ace and Seattle's Sherman C of Selector records together bringing to light a buried acid monster titled Just a dream. Crisp percussion underlies a burly acid baseline with more 303 with a breakdown that will bring the floor to a peak. Not for the faint of heart. Lastly Warehouse Preservation rounds out the VA with a filthy dub of Fugitive Funk with a bass line that will rumble the floor and percussion that is so satisfying you will be looping it throughout your set. Bells, congas and claps all reverberating and panning for that head candy you won't be able to get out of your head.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

In the age of streaming platforms and social media, stimulation is easy to come by. Real pleasure, however_the kind that feeds our soul rather than draining it_is in shockingly short supply. The second LP by THUS LOVE is full of that kind of nourishing euphoria. It swoons, shakes, and swaggers with a combination of grit and sensuality that's been hard to locate in music lately. It's called, fittingly, All Pleasure. The album came out of a period of dizzying growth and transformation for the group. When they began work on it, vocalist/guitarist Echo Mars and drummer Lu Racine were still reeling from the runaway success of their 2022 debut Memorial_a set of lush, elegant post-punk that brought praise from The FADER, the NME, and the Guardian_along with processing the departure of the founding bassist. With All Pleasure, the band re-formed with new bassist Ally Juleen and guitarist/keyboardist Shane Blank. The group convened in a barn in the woods that Mars had transformed into a recording studio, and kept one rule at the forefront: "If it's not joyful, don't do it." What emerged from that mission is a stunningly gorgeous album, full of big, arcing melodies and a range of kinky stylistic twists that will surprise listeners who know the group just for Memorial's chorus-drenched 80s-style psychedelia. "Birthday Song" gives grungy glam rock with a transcendent hook that underlines Echo's lyrical tribute to communal joy. "Get Stable" transmutes existential panic into sharp-angled punk pop. The anthemic title track is something like the album's mission statement, paying tribute to the power of joyful creation. Mixed by Matthew Hall and Rich Costey and mastered by Bob Weston, All Pleasure was recorded as live as possible, capturing the sheer infectious ecstasy that comes from sharing space together and making a divine racket. Put on All Pleasure, tap into the energy that THUS LOVE is putting out, and you just might find an escape.

In 1997 a CD compilation called Calambre Techno was released in Spain which included a track called Utopia. Its producers were two Spanish brothers who had been making electronic music since 1991 under the name INTRO. The track of the compilation was a remix of the original included in the Ep Intro - @Utopia from 1994. @UtopiaRemix is a simple but perfect Techno-Trance anthem, Retro-Psychedelic but futuristic, one of those timeless tracks that always sound original despite its 30 years. Now UFC is proud to re-issue this techno-trance gem on vinyl as its eighth release accompanied by remixes from current producers of different visions.

About the remixes; The duo The MFA give us their '94 On The Floor Remix', a perfect “hit” to hear at dawn where they perfectly combine IDM, Indie-House and Experimentalism. Spanish producer Promising/Youngster presents 'Electric Shock Remix', a titanic version of the original remix where powerful Electro rhythms collide with Experimental and Futuristic IDM.

In the case of Brassica we left the way free to experiment with the original remix and he gives us his 'Psytalo Remix', a perfect fusion of Techno, Breaks and Psychedelia, originality in its purest form as this producer has accustomed us to in all his productions. To close the Ep, we find 'FutureCosmicalAscension Mix' by R.I.P. Bestia, truly a different version that is difficult to include in a specific style where the main melody is progressively guided towards a state of euphoria.

Original Track Produced by Intro: Francisco & Nacho Sotomayor. Liscensed with permission of Absolute Ambient (ES) 1994

PIFF Records welcome 4 in - demand artists to the label on their latest release, also available as a limited 500 press vinyl release. Home to forward-thinking house, trance, and techno, PIFF Records boasts a diverse yet united musical output. Cosmic, dub - driven techno, atmospheric house beats, and everything in between coalesces under the imprint’s distinctive output of thoughtful, club - ready sounds. All aspects of PIFF Records come together on this release as the featured artists balance the cerebral and visceral in their productions.

Cybernet kicks off the release with Resonant Shifter. Pumping kicks lay the foundation for captivating synth arpeggios and warped call and response basses in this ‘90s - inspired cut of contemporary progressive trance. The perfect soundtrack for any location from sunset on the Ibiza seafront to sunrise as the shutters open at a warehouse rave.

Goa elements are out in full force on Hoe Down, courtesy of Glen S. Squelchy 303s, low textures, and metallic arpeggios resonate above a pulsating bassline and weighty kicks, relentlessly pushing forward and ascending to a new sonic dimension - taking you along for the ride.
Body Clinic substitutes the progressive trance for progressive house on Love X, bringing down the tempo but keeping intensity intact. An infectious, syncopated plucked bassline dances around groove - rich drums, psychedelic effects and leads indebted to early ‘90s releases. A masterful blend of the past, present, and future together on one track.

Closing the EP with Empty Clip, Tom Jarmey disrupts the 4x4 rhythms of the preceding tracks w ith a genre - bending cut of electro - infused breaks. Two-step drums are matched with clinical sound design, deep basses, and mystical arpeggios. Sure to add depth to any set and turn heads in the process.

Step right up, ⁢dear music aficionados! Welcome to the melodic adventure of Penny’s Big Breakaway, the long-awaited kinetic 3D-platformer developed by Evening Star and published by Private Division (Take-Two Interactive).

The composer team behind‌ Sonic Mania, led by Tee Lopes, present a new masterpiece, crafted ‌with love and finesse. This colorful soundtrack features various vibes, from funk to rock with even house and EDM accents. So sit ⁣back, and let the‍ groovy waves wash over you.

NOW Music is proud to present the newest addition to the ‘Yearbook’ series: NOW – YEARBOOK 1982. 3 LPs of 44 defining tracks that ruled the charts in 1982.
Featuring number 1s, including ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ (Survivor), ‘Ebony And Ivory’ (Paul McCartney), ‘Town Called Malice’ (The Jam), and 1982’s biggest seller ‘Come On Eileen’ from Dexys Midnight Runners.
1982 saw the first huge hits from a wealth of new artists including Culture Club, Wham! and Tears For Fears, as well as an incredible line-up from artists who had established their chart presence in the prior 18 months and would produce some of the greatest tracks of the decade; Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, ABC, Haircut 100, Soft Cell, The Human League, and a newly solo Adam Ant.
‘Fame’ was the TV phenomenon of the year, and Irene Cara’s theme from the original 1980 film enjoyed massive success.
As ABBA released their last singles for nearly 40 years, pure-pop from Bucks Fizz, Blondie, and Madness is celebrated alongside synth-pop gems from New Order, Simple Minds, Visage and Japan.
Leading artists from the punk scene enjoyed continued and renewed success, including The Stranglers, The Clash and Pretenders, whilst Foreigner, Meat Loaf with Cher, and Steve Miller Band provided radio-favourite rock and power ballads.
1982 saw a huge chart presence for dance music – from the hi-NRG of Boys Town Gang, to the electro-infused beats of Malcolm McLaren, and Rockers Revenge, the 1980’s disco of Shalamar, alongside soul classics from Marvin Gaye and Donna Summer… plus stellar ballads from Elton John, Lionel Richie, and Roxy Music.

The Leeds jazz scene is the gift that keeps on giving. From the dub-leaning ambience of Submotion Orchestra through to the afro-jazz fusion of Nubiyan Twist and TC & The Groove Family, a multi-generational lineage has emerged. Adding yet another page to the eclectic story of jazz from the city, emerging punk-jazz upstarts Plantfood announce the imminent arrival of their debut album ‘Carnivores’ on Friday 4th October via Bridge The Gap.

Consisting of JJ Petrie (percussion), Ruben Maric (keyboards), Joe van der Meulen (tenor saxophone), Woolley (baritone saxophone), Finn Hamilton (drums) and Woody Hayden (bass), Plantfood began in the throes of lockdown, during which all the members lived together. The group spent day after day sharing their eclectic music tastes, ranging from the electronic punk of The Prodigy and art-rock of Black Country New Road, through to the jazz dance of Steam Down and The Comet Is Coming. Taking these influences, they crafted their own sound, but without live shows, their only audience was the plants in their rehearsal room:

“We called the band Plantfood because we were writing and rehearsing in one of our bedrooms which was full of house plants. The plants kind of became our only audience, so it was like the music was food for the plants.”

The band’s debut album ‘Carnivores’, plays on this theme, referring to the plants as carnivores for consuming the bands music, whilst also reflecting the apocalyptic palette of sounds and chaos found within the record. However, mirroring the dynamism of a Plantfood live show, the album is anything but one-dimensional. The group expertly balance moments of serenity and vulnerability with cataclysmic urgency, all brought together under the guidance of producer David Haynes (TC & The Groove Family, Nubiyan Twist). The group share:

“The album’s moments of vulnerability and hope are intended as the depiction of a return-to- earth theme (circle of life, growth and decay), reflecting that the cycle of nature is not simply destructive.”

The project’s lead single ‘Y.U.S.’ drew praise from tastemakers including Jamz Supernova on BBC Radio 6, with the track featuring the talents of UK-Palestinian MC Yung Yusuf, a serial collaborator who also appears on album closer ‘Monstera’. Both tracks channel Plantfood’s explosive live energy into a blend of afro-latin rhythms and broken grooves, with the distinctive blend of tenor and baritone saxophone weaving in and out of grime-leaning, poetic exchanges with Yusuf.

Elsewhere, the second single from the project ‘Birdgang Pt. II’ is a fresh take on the band’s contemporary jazz sound, blending jazz, Balkan folk and Moroccan rhythms with a punk edge. The album’s title track resets the balance, soothing the soul through a swirling approach to spiritual jazz that wouldn’t be amiss amongst the Gondwana Records catalogue.

"Raise a glass to the latest entry in Bloodshot’s Barrel Select Series!

Barrel Select exists to highlight the best of Bloodshot’s cask-strength catalog. Robbie Fulks has made some of the finest records we can claim as our own, but if there’s only room for one on that sacred shelf at the top, it’s Gone Away Backward.

“At a time when modern country feels like bloated spandex-and-Aquanetted pop-metal, Fulks defiantly embraces an unflinching traditionalism.” Paste’s words, not ours, but we’re not gonna argue the point they made when Gone Away Backward hit their doorstep 11 years back. They also called this “a tour du force of bluegrass-derived spare country,” which we’ll also let stand. Magnet said it was “the best album Fulks has ever made, period,” and out of respect for the wonderful work Robbie has done in the past decade, we’ll simply point out that this too is an 11-year-old review.

With Steve Albini at the board, Robbie was able to break his songs down to their core and fire his characters, his chops, his band, and his amazing voice directly at listener’s souls. “We recorded it pretty fast, in a couple of days. People are always bragging that they did it without overdubs, but that’s the way we did it.” The results are everything we ever wanted from Robbie and a high-water mark of folk or bluegrass or alt-country or whatever genre bucket you want to pour his gifts into.

Recorded by Steve Albini

10th Anniversary Barrel Select edition on Bloodshot Red vinyl

“Stunning” —Saving Country Music

“a work of great, accomplished craft . . . vivid and moving” —Ken Tucker, NPR

“The level of artistry is so complete that it suggests a world in which Fulks isn’t a household name is somehow upside down.” —Wall Street Journal"

2024 coloured (violet) vinyl repress for this year's Sonic Cathedral's 20th anniversary! Hull/Leeds based five-piece bdrmm release their much anticipated debut Bedroom on July 3, via Sonic Cathedral. The 10-track album was recorded late last year at The Nave studio in Leeds by Alex Greaves (Working Mens Club, Bo Ningen) and mastered in Brooklyn by Heba Kadry (Slowdive, Beach House). It's a hugely accomplished debut and a real step up both sonically and lyrically from their early singles, which were rounded up on last year's If Not, When? EP. Musically, there are nods to The Cure's Disintegration, Deerhunter and DIIV, while the band reference RIDE and Radiohead. There are also echoes of krautrock and post-punk, from The Chameleons to Protomartyr, plus the proto shoegaze of the Pale Saints' The Comforts Of Madness, not least in the cross fading of some tracks, meaning the album is an almost seamless listen. As a result, Bedroom becomes an unexpected and unintentional concept album, running through the different stages of a break-up set against the backdrop of the ups and downs of your early twenties. "The subject matter spans mental health, alcohol abuse, unplanned pregnancy, drugs_ basically every cliché topic that you could think of," reveals frontman Ryan Smith. "But that doesn't mean they ever stop being relevant. It's a fucker growing up, but I'm lucky enough to have been able to project my feelings in the form of this band, surrounded by four of the best people I've ever met." And that band name, in case it needs explaining, is pronounced the same way as the album title. "I never thought I'd get to the stage where I would have to explain it so much," says Ryan. "We have been pronounced as Boredom, Bdum and my old boss thought we were a ska band called Bad Riddim. We're all sarcastic cunts, so Bedroom spelt correctly seemed like the perfect title." He's right. The perfect title for the perfect debut album. "A modern day shoegaze classic" - NME "The general roller coaster of being twenty-somethings in post-Brexit England who find themselves awash with a shimmering soundscape that recalls Oshin-era DIIV, Deerhunter's Microcastle, or even The Cure at their most ambiently grandiose" - Under The Radar

RUN-DMC DOWN WITH THE KING 30th ANNIVERSARY Pressed On Red, White and Black Double Colored Vinyl With Commemorative Numbered OBI Limited To 2000 Copies Thirty years ago on May 4, 1993, Run-DMC made one of the greatest comebacks in Hip-Hop history with the release of their 6th studio album Down With The King. To understand the significance of this feat we have to go back a few years. Coming off an amazing four-album run ending with the platinum album Tougher Than Leather, Run-DMC released their 5th studio album, Back From Hell, to lackluster sales. Did Run-DMC fall off? Did the emergence of gangsta rap push them off to the side? It was sad to see your Hip-Hop heroes take a fall. Then in 1991, a 12-inch remix came out for the single "Back From Hell" featuring Chuck D and Ice Cube and fans took notice. It would be two more years before anyone would hear from Run-DMC again. In March of 1993, a new single and video “Down With The King” debuted on Yo! MTV Raps featuring the new Hip-Hop Gods Pete Rock and CL Smooth paying homage to The Kings calling back verses from Sucker MCs over a dope signature Pete Rock beat. The video would be in constant rotation on Ralph McDaniels Video Music Box, YO!, BET’s Rap City and more. Fans watched it over and over to catch all the cameos, everyone from Eazy-E to the Native Tongues Family of De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest. The anticipation was building, but would the album live up to the lead single that knocked it out of the park? On May 4, 1993, the album dropped on CD, Cassette, and Vinyl. Run-DMC enlisted The Bomb Squad from Public Enemy, Q-Tip, EPMD, Jermaine Dupri, Kay Gee of Naughty By Nature, and Pete Rock to produce the album with a special appearance by Tom Morello rocking out his guitar emulating DJ scratches he made famous with Rage Against The Machine. Their rhyming was as enthusiastic and powerful as they were on their debut album 10 years prior. Run-DMC, the self-proclaimed Kings of Rock and original Kings of Hip Hop were indeed back. The album debuted at #1 on the R&B/Hip-Hop charts and #7 on the Billboard 200 and would go Gold within two months. Get On Down is proud to present for the first time on vinyl since its original release, a 30 Year Anniversary pressing on double-colored vinyl with numbered OBI in a gatefold jacket.

US House Music legend Teddy Douglas of Basement Boys and Jasper St. Co. fame gets set to unleash his first solo artist album, ‘I’m Here’, on the iconic label, Nervous Records. Teddy has gone all out to deliver one of his most creative and musically diverse albums to date. ‘I’m Here’ is a colourful pallet of meaningful songs and grooves that reach far beyond Teddy’s signature soulful Baltimore House sound, with added infusions of Funk, Rock and Jazz, yet still loaded with plenty of Teddy’s trademark House and Disco sounds that we all know and love.

Across the album he’s pulled together an array of heavyweight international vocal talent including; UK vocal diva Pauline Taylor; Danish award winning Folk and Blues artist, Richard Farrell; Chi Town Hip House legend, Fast Eddie; dance music’s legendary No.1 vocal queen, Ultra Naté; up and coming Brit Soul talent, Sipho; and Buckshot from Blackmoon appearing as BDI Thug. From the shimmering cover of The Frontline Orchestra’s ‘Don’t Turn Your Back On Me’ with Pauline Taylor on the vocals, to the downtempo rocky vibes of ‘Help!’ with Sipho delivering a spine-tingling gravelly vocal, ‘I’m Here’ is testament to Teddy’s finely tuned expert musicianship and impeccable knack for penning great songs and delivering vibrant covers.

Baltimore’s Teddy Douglas has produced everyone from Michael Jackson, Lenny Kravitz, Crystal Waters, Erykah Badu, Martha Wash and Ultra Nate’ and was an important figure in the development of the Baltimore “House” Sound. Teddy has held down a long and successful DJ career since 1983 staring out in Baltimore and spreading his wings globally gracing the decks at clubs such as Yellow in Japan to London’s Ministry of Sound and beyond. In 1985 he met Jay Steinhour and Thommy Davis, who later formed The Basement Boys production company. The Basement Boys have produced countless dance classics like Crystal Waters’ 1991 Gold single, ‘Gypsy Woman’. In the mid 90’s Teddy Douglas and Jay Steinhour opened Basement Boys Records and released club anthems from Teddy Douglas, Jasper St. Co., Ann Nesby, Those Guys, DJ Spen, Byron Stingly, Karizma, Kenny Bobien, Taja Seville and more

SITW’s fourth studio album is a satirical celebration of mistakes. A joyous lambasting of everyone and everything that’s wrong in the world, against the real-time backdrop of global uncertainty, corruption and political unrest.

A London Charivari. Rough Music. A gleeful old-fashioned cancelling. A Chaunter’s delight. 14th Century recording demons collecting mistakes in a sack. Women mugging rich merchants. Nettles being pissed on. Shit food at Lent. A terrible plan. An undoing. The aftermath of a car crash. Catching people doing something they shouldn’t. Nursery rhymes reimagined as death threats. Behind the sarcastic acerbic delivery, Nicola Kearey and Ian Carter convey thoughtful, essential interpretations encouraging us all to check ourselves, through the multi-layered music of cities through time.

This is about as far away from pastoral folk music as you can get.

In their typical wry city-weary style, a beady eye is cast over those committing wrongs in plain sight, with Kearey narrating a series of tales of people fucking up, or being fucked up, with some brief respite in Lavender - one of London’s oldest street melodies - the album being named after the 14th Century story of Tittivilus, the recording demon, who collects scribes’ mistakes (pokes) and the idle chatter of the “liars with their hairy tongues” congregation.

Despite this seriousness, the album’s working-class dry gallows humour carries a stoic “if you don’t laugh you’ll cry” feeling amongst the corruption, scandals and barefaced lies we all observe on a daily basis, with a warning that “only you can fix your deficits” and “it’s your words and deeds that matter…and let me tell you, they speak volumes”.

The core of the record imagines a sound of traditional London music, where the musical continuum is unbroken by the population decimated by the world wars, or by gentrification and social cleansing that has forced communities apart, and yet absorbs all the influences of all the communities that call London their home.

Carter and Kearey attempted sessions at The George Tavern, Whitechapel, and in Spitalfields, at Denis Severs’ House, and a restored weaver’s townhouse, carrying the aesthetic of the record in their heads as they moved from location to location, before settling into an old factory building and their own workshop. The resulting sparse and economical sound is harsher, more present, more essentially them. It is a mighty haranguing that demands your attention.

As we approach the threshold leading us back to the Black Lodge on our transformative 8th journey, we are escorted through and beyond the mystical portal by the vigorous and fierce forces of Sneaker. Portrait in House is a collection of 3 resonant works, which are unified into a singular vision within its uncanny language that is rooted deeply in the foundations of Jak, New Beat, EBM, and Wave. Existing inside the liminal spaces of where light meets dark, we are presented with a documentation of dissonance and harmony. We begin our voyage with Jihad, a sluggish and slogging piece that unforgivingly drags us through the grime and the dirt in a ritualistic fashion that would have the ghost of Georges Bataille dancing in circles. Voices call out and howl into the dark as the drum patterns of the 707 rhythmically grasps onto its anarchic components. In the dark, we can see the light beyond the known universe. In the words of Sneaker "The name is not our message, but a document of an evident, traditional concept in (y)our world." As we find ourselves sprawled out on the ground following the 1st sonic stanza, a menacing voice bellows and warns that this is a Sax Track. Referencing Chicago icon Lil Louis, this work juxtaposes classical elements of house music together with the bare knuckled spirit of Jak. A magical spell led by disharmonious Portasound FM keys in conversation with a teetering sub bass, where at its core, this plus this, equals something that is uniquely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A number fit for any uncanny ritual that will fall under the night sky. Bringing our cosmic procession to a close we pick up the pace with a commanding number titled, Dance On, a no holds barred work that will possess your soul in the name of Jak. Flangers wail unforgivingly alongside a pulsating 101, as samples of the human voice are chopped up and arranged into a conversation that hypnotically calls for our bodies to be transformed into soft machines, while powered by ceremonious motions that are generated from the liberating process of ritual movement. We command you to dance! Words by Justin Aulis Long

RAWAX welcomes ENNESS to the family! We are very happy about this fantastic release.It shows again that it's worth
to check all demos we receive day by day. This upcoming HOUSEWAX called "Let Me Love" is here on righ rotation and we believe it's a future classic.

RAWAX welcomes ENNESS to the family! We are very happy about this fantastic release.It shows again that it's worth
to check all demos we receive day by day. This upcoming HOUSEWAX called "Let Me Love" is here on righ rotation and we believe it's a future classic.

Girls of the Internet’s Tom Kerridge announces the release of forthcoming album When I Was Lost, I Found Myself on Classic Music Company, Luke Solomon’s revered imprint. Following the acclaimed, self-released 2020 album ‘Girls FM’, ‘When I Was Lost, I Found Myself’ delves into a deeper and more personal journey for Tom. Spanning 12 blissed out genre-blending house records and featuring stellar vocalists such as Sadie Walker, Allysha Joy, shiv, ALLKNIGHT, Anelisa Lamola and more, Tom continues to demonstrate his innate ability to nurture talent and collaborate on this latest LP. With heavy support from BBC Radio 1, BBC 6 Music and BBC Introducing, Girls of the Internet’s previous singles from the LP, in particular ‘Never Ever Ever’ featuring Irish singer-songwriter shiv (which also saw a remix from legendary producer Henrik Schwarz) have seen the group reach new heights in recent months. Selected as BBC Introducing’s Track of the Week, both ‘Never Ever Ever’ and the following garage-inspired ‘Gravity’ featuring ALLKNIGHT have formed a path laden with anticipation for the full LP. Girls of the Internet’s manifesto is clear; to create dance music that calls back to how it was made at its inception, but with the knowledge and experience of the past 50 years of the genre.

With THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE's third EP, the miracle is now complete, the trinity has come full circle, the triptych is complete, the church has fully handed over the Holy Spirit to its disciples. For this celebration, apostles such as Glow, Tyson and Elektra, as well as the church leaders of THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE themselves, come together again to celebrate a Dionysian Bachanal.

It starts with Glow's ‘Acid House Planet’, an epic-ambient call to the gods at the foot of the Acid House Olympus.

And the next track on the EP, ‘Coming Home’, a no less epic house tune that calls the children of faith home to the church with the vocoder voice of the gods, shows that they listen to their disciples.

‘Mitzubishi’ by Tyson celebrates the holy sacrament of acid painting in chords that melt on the tongue like a lollipop over a ritual beat.

This is followed by Elektra, which has already provided highlights on the previous EPs. And this time too, her hypnotic acid anthem worms its way deep into the ear canals and brains of the trance-listening worshippers.

Shortly before the end, the church leaders return to deliver an abstract breakbeat hymn with ‘Waves Ov Power’, which, surrounded by numerous sample memories of house history, sings of the pure power of the acid ecstasy techno religion.

Finally, THEE CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE disciples are dismissed from the service with a powerful hymn of distorted bass drums, namely Random Noise Generator's ‘SM 58’ in the T.C.O.A.H. Schranz remix - a track that will give the inspired followers of the CHURCH OV ACID HOUSE enough strength to spread the happy acid message throughout the land.
Amen.

The new dance album by Biicla called HYPER HOUSE is an imaginary club, where the main hero is the listener. The vibe in this house is Uk influenced modern take on bass / garage with a kind flow and naked emotions. The record has been in the making last 3 years and you could have heard some singles from the album already - GAS (4.21), MAKING NEW, MISS YA were all released via System 108 in 2023, the label has also become by accident a new home for the artist. Before arriving on System 108, Biicla has been releasing music for a while and getting exposure in big US Festivals, like Lollapalooza, Hard Summer, Bonaroo and many more, celebrating millions of streams worldwide. With System 108, Biicla found a new home and new dedicated audience, and it seems like a match made in heaven.

The process of production of the album took time during some challenging years - when our ordinary world started to shatter... Therefore the cover is divided in two parts - on the right, we observe chaos and destruction; on the left, people are having a quiet and happy life. Modern / hybrid club sounds in the album co-exist with sensible, soulful vibes, sorrow and hope. On top, the finishing comes in a close to perfection studio-engineered sound. HYPER HOUSE therefore is an intimate record with a personal meaning for Biicla and for us, as a label. Together as a team, we represent Biicla in all facets of his creative output, would it be his self-branded party BIICMAK, live shows or support of new names in the scene, discovered by the artist, as an example here comes the V/A Radar 108, curated by Biicla - tip!

On October 4, 2024, Vel will make a splash with the release of her debut LP, MTY-011 «There is Always a Solution», through Anetha’s label, Mama Told Ya. After 3 exciting EPs and the recent rise of her Live performance, Vel made waves last year with the track «Velds1» on MTY-AIR «Mille Attaques, Les Vents Contrèrent» in collaboration with LDS. She is now ready to unveil her first full-length album.
«There is Always a Solution» flows with two slippery vinyl records and 10 immersive tracks. Nine tracks are produced solely by Vel, while one is co-produced by Vel and Anetha. Once again, Mama Told Ya returns with a valuable lesson: no matter the challenge, you will flow a way.

Vel is back with a mesmerizing new album featuring 10 tracks that draw you in with her captivating energy. Are you ready to heed the call? The High Priestess of Drums plunges us into a world of vibrant Techno and brisk Tribal rhythms, while her Ambient passages offer a calming retreat and her Mental influences are bound to stir your emotions. Rest assured, “there is always a solution.” Renowned for her expertise in rhythmic innovation and spatial soundscapes, Vel presents a revitalizing and dynamic release. MTY-011 promises to cleanse and rejuvenate—let yourself be immersed.
With a hint of irony, The Babe (A1) playfully teases, “Do you love me? Do you love my music?” But Vel’s real question is more reflective: you’re in deep water. Dive into the sound bath of Humans in Cafe (A2), close your eyes, and let the drums, the kicks, the bangs, and the buzz wash over you. One Xanax Introspection (A3) later, Vel is inviting us to explore the full spectrum of frequencies—a galloping race of deep bass and high treble in this ambient choreography.
« Don’t let the relentless BPM Anxiety (B1) drown you. Its tortured synth may try to hold you back, but you’re free. You’re in your Pop Tribe (B2), and nothing can stop you—DRUM BIG. »
Darling it's better down where it's wetter: joining Vel for a jam session « under the sea », it’s Anetha! Driving percussions are combining with a pulsating psytrance bassline, pure magic: « Ain’t We Mermaids (C1), dear? » Vel, ever the master of the salty beats, slows it down just enough to say, «I Don’t Care (C2),» as she deconstructs. A few moments later… She’s at it again—just when the BPMs are peaking, she draws us into a state of floating lethargy. That’s the absorbing power of Ambient Core (C3).
The current is strong with this one—prepare for a challenge. Deep Tracks Don’t Sell (D1) will drift you away in a swirl of intertwining undulations and dripping drums. It’s time to return to the surface: with a bubbly twist of whimsy, Oh La La (D2) pops in, full of new-wave energy. Vel gently swims us back to shore.
For this new LP, the artwork was crafted in-house under Vel’s artistic direction. The design was skillfully executed by Diplomatie Studio, while mastering was entrusted to In Aeternam Vale, Vel’s close friend and mentor.

The unconscious and unknown must be really nice places. In any case, if you take the second album of Menelaos Tomasides under his given name as travelogue. A trip into dreamlike territory, yet concrete enough, a journey without target yet looking forward and looking back into familiar places, „dreamhike“ both continues and departs from the style Menelaos has found earlier, in “When the Moon Comes Through”, or his more conceptual-intentional “31 Minuten” works. As the album title - which roughly translates to “dream hiking” but also hints on “walkabout” and “songlines” – suggests, we are rambling between the real and the imaginary. From the bucolic border triangle of Belgium, Germany, and the Netherlands to the buzzing streets of the capital of Cyprus, where Menelaos has lived for many years, the tracks are about real places, about real experiences and emotions yet interwoven with a dreamlike fabric. Something that is just not tangible, yet substantial and palpable. Something concrete that manifests in the genuine and special sound design of this records - basically all of Menelaos’ works - his really special treatment of dynamics and loudness. It is one of the very few records where the established language of music making, specifically Techno, House, Dub, and early 2000’ Electronica, the clicks, thumps and plops from an earlier age of electronic music, transmogrify into slow movements of something new. Something that is gentle and truly personal, looking inwards. There are four-to-the-floor beats, there is wobbly bass, and dubby chords, even sublimated clarion calls. There is an immense energy in these tracks, the sheer materiality of low frequencies of a massive sound system manifested in a tiny room. Yet it is without any aggression, stripped bare of sonic pressure. It is quiet music no matter how high you turn up the volume. A rare treat, that requires exceptional skills and exceptional restraint and control on the technical side of music making. Probably it is a result of Menelaos specific combination of instinctual, intuitive approach to making music, which meets a genuine love for sound in seemingly endless loops of refinement that can lead to such a result as „dreamhike“. The elegant floating balance of control and playful experimentation manifests for example in a track that continues the ongoing collaboration with seasoned Cologne improviser Achim Fink on bass trumpet. Not only in this respect, the album can be described as a product of openness. It comes from a lot of taking in the world, of travel, of places and people met, of friendship and conversation (not necessarily with words). The deep trip of “dreamhike” further manifests Menelaos as one of the truly independent voices of electronic Cologne and beyond. Somewhat alike in character and attitude probably to what late Pete Namlook has established for Frankfurt with his label Fax +49-69/450464 (though ultimately warmer and much less uncanny) Menelaos has found his very own sound and vision. Music that answers to no one but speaks to everyone. Uncompromising yet gentle to the core: kind sounds from a kind spirit, arguably the most extraordinary and valuable quality music can have these days.

WE ARE WINTER'S BLUE AND RADIANT CHILDREN (WAWBARC) is the new quartet of Mat Ball (BIG|BRAVE), Efrim Manuel Menuck (Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Thee Silver Mt. Zion), and Jonathan Downs and Patch (both Ada). On "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" they present six modal lullabies drenched in seared distortion, slathered across striding electronic pulses. Ball and Menuck began creating music in and for the bleakest moments of Montréal winters: "We're honoring that idea of winter, when you come inside and your house is warm, a place that only exists because of how cold it is outside," says Menuck. They later recruited Downs and Patch to flesh out their initial ideas. Menuck met them in 2015 when recording Ada's final album at Montréal's Hotel2Tango _ where they reconvened to make this record. "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is an album about witnessing bleakness from a place of safety. Carrying newfound descriptive depth, thanks to the quartet's open-ended songs freeing him from writing in meter, Menuck likens his lyrics to photorealism. On opener `Rats and Roses' he sings of an unnamed city struck by an unknown cataclysm, but the details are local: specifically, his neighbors inadvertently poisoning birds when tackling a rat infestation. It's backed by blown out synths and guitars reaching a soaring crescendo. "Seeing things from a distance and not being able to intervene happens a lot on the record," Menuck explains. "If you're a feeling and thinking person, that's just part of the human condition. We watch horror unfolding from afar, unable to do anything concrete to change it." A powerless witness, able to describe but not intervene. `Dangling Blanket From A Balcony (White Phosphorous)' references Michael Jackson holding his child over a hotel balcony in 2002_the bizarre media spectacle still lodged in Menuck's psyche. This and the album's closing track also elegize white phosphorous, a technology of war designed to light up battlefields but capable of inflicting horrific burns on those it touches. Illumination and horror in one, here underpinning scenes picturesque and terrifying. "The last song `(Goodnight) White Phosphorous' is deliberately like a lullaby," says Menuck. "Written from the viewpoint of watching white phosphorous falling outside your window." Scorched and tarnished and laden with harrowing imagery, "NO MORE APOCALYPSE FATHER" is also a record bathed in light: the bewilderment of hopeful spirits witnessing despair, watching a blizzard of distress unfold outside from a place of relative shelter and comfort. You could call that emotional ambivalence, maybe numbness. But those words are too passive for the weight of conflicted feeling resonating through the album. "I never know how I feel on an overcast day when the sun is still bright despite the grayness and the light is very flat. The colours become more saturated, and you see a single flower, say a morning glory, whose colour is so vibrant beneath the gray, I don't know if that's a lovely sensation or a terrible sensation. It's both," says Menuck.

Lucila Justina Sarcines Reyes was born on July 19, 1936, in the Rímac district. Lima, which had just mourned the death of the emblematic composer Felipe Pinglo two months earlier, was a city on the verge of modernization that clung to its colonial and racist ways. Having been born black marked a difficult path in her life: after the father's premature death and a fire that left her and her 15 siblings homeless, she takes the streets to financially support her mother, and at 5 years old learns to sing in bars while begging for money in the port of Callao. After being admitted to a Franciscan convent and studying only until the third grade of primary school, now a teenager, she returns home, but suffers an attempt of rape by her new stepfather; she is forced to move to the central neighborhood of Barrios Altos, to live with her uncle, a guitarist from the legendary Guardia Vieja, also known as the founders of the Peruvian criollo waltz. This group of non-professional musicians, made up of bricklayers, merchants, artisans, marble workers and other employees, prolonged the oral traditions of their African slave ancestors in working-class neighborhoods of the capital. While the wealthy reject the music of their peons, which they associate with alcohol and disorder, it is the workers who listen carefully to the European waltzes and Aragonese jotas at the aristocratic halls, and later, back in their famous one-pipe alleys, transform their music under the spell of the night. It is in these sociability spaces that house numerous low-income families, where these criollos cheer up birthdays, weddings, anniversaries and other parties until dawn with the trill of their guitars and cajones. It is there that Reyes, at 16 years old, picks up the legacy of the Guardia Vieja and her life changes forever: she is often asked to sing in jaranas (criollo parties), and since her voice stands out immediately, she is encouraged to make her debut on a radio show called "El Sentir de los Barrios", whereshe performs the waltz "Abandonada" by Sixto Carrera.

Fire Red Vinyl. As one would expect of any historic city, the houses in Decatur, GA are old, and while many have been renovated to suit the needs of the 21st century family, the one Lunar Vacation calls home has not. The porch is quaint and crumbly, the roof leaks, and there is a single bathroom shared by the band's five members who insist that this is not, actually, a bad thing. "I used to be so protective of the songs when I gave them over to the band," lyricist/vocalist/guitarist Gep Repasky says. "There's so much trust involved, but this house helped us grow as best friends, as musicians, as a band." That newfound sense of trust is apparent on Everything Matters, Everything's Fire, whose title, taken from the concluding track "You Shouldn't Be," is a thesis statement. While Lunar Vacation's last album, 2021's Inside Every Fig is a Dead Wasp, happily bathed in the waters of indie pop, their latest effort is exploratory, a product of many hours shared experimenting in a living room together. Inspired by prolific shapeshifters like Yo La Tengo and Björk, Everything Matters, Everything's Fire adopts an ethos that every idea has the potential to be a good one. "Our last album was super produced, manicured," guitarist/ vocalist Maggie Geeslin says. "This one's organic. We embraced mistakes; it made the work even better." In other words: everything matters, everything's fire.