Suche:weird dust

self described as library music for modern times, think downtempo acid infusions.

Italy via Atlanta, say hello to Titino and “Sun Splicer”, the latest release on The Comfort. Three separate ideas connect this EP across 4 tracks. It toys with the expectations of its listener — core features morph as tracks progress, stable kick patterns turn to breaks and in reverse, simple stabs progress to melodic junctions. Acid permeates this record, not as a clear motif but a tinged essence. And it’s sincere, both to the setting of these pieces and where they’ll be listened to and what it honors.

“Shblasted” — a back-and-forth groove machine filled with dub sirens and stepped up acid. Clubby introduction meant for sacred dance floors.

“Ouachita” on the A2 is controlled chaos, snares fly around, synth lines seem to want to escape their own confines and it just bursts onto the listener. Then the keys come in, the groove stabilizes, pads become bigger and new life is given.

The B-side is playful. “Sun Splicer” is perhaps most aptly categorized by a now notorious idea of ‘electro house’, and the pure aggressive euphoria this track carries just might be that, but as we all know the Italians do it differently — it’s a heady dark excursion. “Existenz” is all-smiles no matter how menacing its first contact, a hook of a track that reimagines the weirder side of Italian trance — think Interactive Test at its most wonderful. The dusty snares feel like a balancing tool instead of an homage.

Calder City Development Corp. returns from Detroit with CCDC008 “Body Remembers EP” by Chicago Skyway, a raw, emotional slice of pure Detroit house energy. This is that unmistakable blend of swing, grit and soul: dusty drum programming, deep basslines and chords that feel both melancholic and hopeful at the same time. It’s music that taps directly into the body – the kind of grooves you feel in your chest before you even realise you’re moving. “Body Remembers EP” fits perfectly into the Calder City Development Corp. universe: deep but direct, underground but timeless. This is finest Detroit house designed for concrete basements, smoky backrooms and all those moments when the lights are low and the crowd is completely locked into the groove.

Our journeys into uncharted lands of the Reducerverse continue.

Essential must-buy shit for all disciples of: The Rootsman x Muslimgauze, Love's Secret Domain era Coil, Chris & Cosey, Meat Beat Manifesto, early Reinforced Recs, Shut Up & Dance, He Dark Age, Zombies Under Stress, SPK.

If you've just joined us: Reducer ARE the greatest lost dub punks. Rumoured to have almost signed to On-U Sound but told Sherwood to stuff it when he wanted his hands on the desk. Fame never found them, cos they didn't want it anyway. Living in the obscure memories of the select squatters and weirdos lucky enough to have had their minds blown, their first recordings were scraped off the linings of the cosmic dustbin recently through a series of self-released 12"s, cassettes, USBs and strangest of all a 3D performance screened at the Cube (in association with pals Bokeh Versions).

In short: Reducer's the most thrilling fairytale resurrection these pages have been privy to, joining 23 Skidoo, Killing Joke, PiL, Slits, Terminal Cheescake etc on the Mount Olympus of the Punky Reggae Party.

This latest slice of karmic justice comes from The Human Aerial aka Reducer's guitarist and prime mover Hooly. And ohhhh what a justice it is. Drawing on 40 years of private solo recordings across 7 tracks from Abu Ama style dabke jaguar steppas punishment to thumping bass-led electro, peak Depth Charge dubby big beat to careening breakbeat hardcore, trashcan gamelan spirituals and Jamie Vex'd style maximalist beats blissouts,

Tying together this jaw-dropping range of styles and fashions is a relentless sampladelic bombardment. The Human Aerial's habitual pilfering of TV and radio for into lovingly spliced tape loops and samples showcases humanity at its best and absolute worst. Tele-evangelists rub shoulders with long dead chieftans: "there is no death, only change of worlds" "We're MAD AS HELL AND WERE NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE" "THe land is sacred, a cathedral of the spirit". These wisdoms and grave sins slip into us subliminal through the dance, the needle drops like a waking dream.

While the Reducer archives may be running low, we assure you the Human Aerial coffers are full. And long may our minds be blown by this ongoing renaissance.

OiOiOiOIAiAiAiIAiÆÆÆÆÆÆIIIIII!!!! The new Cucum45 EP dares to speed off from the endpoint of the two previous outputs Something Weirdcore and Cyclops í poka and off the edge of the record at 1000km/h. With a hardcore opening track titled “IIIiiiIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiiiiIIIIIiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiiii” (I added several more I’s in there for dramatic effect) that clocks with everything it needs to say at under 2 minutes, it’s safe to say that Cucumb45 aka Bjarki in this EP is WIDE AWAKE, YES!

Take “OpxThermin” – it’s straight up full-bore hardcore cartoon-pyrotechnics in overload, skipping and skedaddling over the turntables. Flipping out in a wild cocktail rush of hardcore ruffidge and smudged breaks that’s all smacked out on sugar frosted meth, listeners are gonna need some surgery to remove the smiley gurns from their faces. “Get Slothered 6even2” effectively can’t keep still as a track. From the collapsing rhythms and the pinging sound effects, it then decides what’s needed is a little bit of hip-hop flow in the background. Many hardcore rave re-treads (sorry, “deconstructed rave music”) often forget what this track seems to do at ease, and that is get you goddamn moving.

"Rathakrem" might have glitchy ambient Nintendo 90s vibe checks, but it is VERY un-chill. Stressed out hard drives grind to dust and distressed sounds of arcade dynamics mean that what you hear is the sound of Mario bricking it through all those haunted castle sections. Ironically the last track, “Crying Indian and Laser Horse” is the EP chill out tune, aiming instead for a nice, soothing, bottoms out disco-fister oompa-loompa warehouse techno track with auto-tuned cats, gunfire, orgasms, and
horses. A fine soundtrack for the morning commute!

REPRESS**

Weird Dust launches his own label Private Stress, kicking it off with 4 rabbitholes as deep as they go. Home made music, home made artwork.

Limited black vinyl. One pressing only. 700 copies worldwide. NON-RETURNABLE.

Full colour sleeve with unseen pics of Ron Geesin in his studio with Marianne Faithful, who was
supposed to provide the spooky voices but was so (allegedly) smashed out on various drugs she had no voice.

Wow! So you’re telling me Ron Geesin made this kooky electro jazzy score to a really unusual
British folk horror weirdy film that is also sometimes called Madhouse Mansion or Asylum of
Blood?

So what we have here is a unique and unreleased British horror score like no other - because
Ron Geesin made it and also because he used trad ideas and modern sonic developments at the
same time. So it’s bonkers. Half the pressing will go immediately to the Trunk mailing list, the
last 300 for the rest of the world. Be quick…

As Dustin Zahn's Enemy Records celebrates its 20th anniversary with a string of special releases, Marcal returns once again with 4 new signature style tracks. The EP demonstrates further refinement of Marcal's shamanic tribal grooves that everybody knows and loves, along with an artistic progression towards weirder and deeper sonic territory.



The vinyl starts off with "Swindle," a powerful and unstoppable peak time track emphasizing groove and tension above all else. "Two Become One" completes the A side with a slightly more mellow and delicate vibe that will 'lock in' just about any
dance floor.

The B side kicks off with "Blessing," a track comprised of rolling mysticism and unrelenting rhythms. It's classic Marcal in top form. The vinyl ends with what is possibly Marcal's strangest and deepesttrack yet, "Perpetuity Wing." The track invites listeners into a lucid dream state via ethereal vocals and hypnotizing percussive work.

'exclusive tour tapes' limited quantity available for distribution

Limited split tape collaboration between like-minded pranksters Lagoss & Babau. Co-released by Sucata tapes & Artetetra in July 2025.

‘’The chars were emerging as some chunk of makeshift swamp coolers blasted the soil surrounding our motorbikes. Sunburn vapours floating grey all around, licking our necks with heavy hazy tongues. Just oppressive and gross. Blah.

Someone says heat waves are among the most dangerous natural hazards. I guess that the magnetic tides did not help at all. For sure, recreational sleep deprivation aside, it was days of relentlessly documented tipsy headaches, thermometric cicada noises and weird-ass hallucinations. It is what it is. The age of earthquakes. We drink from our black plastic bags with a straw pushing a bit of oxygen thru our reptile brains. Just half a pack of synthetic tobacco for the ride. No internet. Whatever.

She looks at me behind the war metal glasses and the silicone frog mask high on desert dust. Sweaty pools on her shoulders. Eyes purple with adrenaline. Map on the scratched screen. “It says that at this point we should be hearing that fucking flute”. We stop amidst the geysers. We can see the monoliths and stone gods ready to eat up all the solar storms and the thunder. Towards the horizon, second moon is up. Damn. Water rises to our knees, green with bloating sounds. Just what we needed. We’re stuck. "Turn up the radio. Let’s hope it lasts five minutes." After trashing a bunch of fake subtropical signals, the radio plays a flute. She takes off the mask and explodes in a grin: “This is it man, we made it! No man’s land. The real fucking thing.” I light one up and let the sight get blurred: “You betcha.”’’

"Chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams..."

December 25th, 2023 - an Instagram post. Stimulator Jones shared half a dozen FIRE tracks from his beat tape archive. We were immediately drawn to the rough hewn boom bap.

"I'd release that", Rob commented.

Hours of material was shared and the result is this: Cool Green Trees (1999-2005). A collection of beats and loops Stimulator Jones created between the ages of 14-20 at home in his basement, bedroom and computer room in Roanoke, Virginia.

You will not believe the profound soulful genius contained within these naive schoolboy melodies.

December 25th, 1998 - 25 years ago to the day and his much-coveted Yamaha SU10 sampler was finally bestowed upon young Stimmy AKA Sam Lunsford: "I immediately hooked up a CD Walkman to the input jack and looped the beginning two bars of Grover Washington Jr.'s "Mercy Mercy Me". I don't know what exactly was so thrilling about hearing two measures of music repeating over and over but it was so infectious and hypnotizing and enthralling to me. I'll never forget that ecstatic rush of making my first loop - an uncontrollable, gleeful smile plastered all over my face." When you hear the pocket breakbeat symphonies featured here on Cool Green Trees, you'll feel the same sense of frisson.

In the wake of his Stones Throw breakthrough - Exotic Worlds & Master Treasures - Stimulator Jones was pegged by many as a 90s throwback artist. However, he literally IS a 90s artist. He's been recording music most of his life and he's now 40. He created the bulk of Cool Green Trees as a teenager. Everything before 2004 was recorded when Sam was still in school. He was in 8th grade when he made the 1999 tracks - he didn't even have his learner's permit. This album is a snapshot of a young man in a simpler time. Things were still mysterious back then and he was flying blind, relying on his ears and having to figure things out for himself: "I had no road map for becoming a beatmaker. I have been collecting music since I was a kid, I am a lifelong digger and seeker of cool and interesting sounds. I was there in the golden age of Hip Hop, and while I may have been a suburban white kid in Roanoke, Virginia, I was tuned in and I bought so many classic albums when they came out. I was attracted to Hip Hop because of the musical and poetic quality. I was hypnotized by the rhythms, partially because I was a drummer. I didn't brag about collecting my breakbeat records or making beats - it was something I did in isolation. It wasn't something I generally wanted to bring attention to and it didn't really score me any cool points. I certainly wasn't flexing on social media about it."

Hell, he can do that now!

Opener "Pharoah Jones" was inspired by Yesterday's New Quintet and Madlib's ability to capture that classic 70s sound whilst playing all the instruments. Sam created this one stoned afternoon by laying down a 2 bar loop and a shaker loop on his Yamaha SU700 sampler. He hung a microphone from the ceiling and played his Yamaha Stage Custom drum kit over the top before adding ender Rhodes and playing his dad's Selmer tenor sax through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. Yes! Up next, "Ghost Gospel" utilises a dope loop from a gospel record and adds some soul-funk drums overtop, whilst working that filter knob. Says Sam: "The loop reminded me of something Ghostface would rap over. The sample was in 3/4 waltz time but I flipped it for a 4/4 groove, a technique I picked up from RZA. "Ill Feeling" uses sped-up pieces from a dusty old funk record and putting them over a classic NOLA drum loop; gain chopping up a slow, bluesy 3/4 time signature and bending it to a 4/4 groove. Classy shit. "Capital Punishment" features drums tapped in live, inspired by MF Doom's Special Herbs series. "Do Not Adjust" consists loops found on a compilation of 70s French music at Happy's Flea Market, a classic Roanoke digging spot.

The sublime, evocative title track, "Cool Green Trees" was created when Sam was still living at home. He dumped samples off his SU10 into the family desktop and arranged them in a demo version of Pro Tools: "This track was sort of my ode to the DJ Shadow style of sample based production. Super spacey, slow, and moody. The heavily filtered drums were inspired by Alec Empire's 'Low on Ice' album. I later added some scratches and sounds from a Spider Man storybook record." "Chill Scratch" snags the final bit of a bossanova record and pairs it with a drum loop before adding experimental scratching run through an Electro Harmonix Memory Man echo pedal. "Poisonous Fumes" was made using a sampler, mixer and a turntable; a kind of mixtape beat collage with added scratches and sounds from various records. Using dialogue from superhero records was a nod to Madlib. "Welcome Aboard The Starship" is dark, downtempo trip-hop with a spooky bent. Sam paired a slow, hard drum loop with a guitar sample grabbed off a psychedelic rock record. To finish, he added various backwards sounds and weird atmospheric effects and a little scratching. Swoon.

Side B opens with "Keep On Runnin", made on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler. Having always loved the sound of the Lo-Fi filter on those machines, reminiscent of the Emu SP1200, Sam always imagined Del or another of the Hieroglyphics crew rapping over this beat. You can certainly hear why. "Sounds Impossible" sees Sam experimenting with layering multiple kick samples at different volumes to create patterns similar to those heard by Showbiz and Lord Finesse during their God-level 1995 period. "Painted Faces" was made by chopping up a REDACTED record which he had gotten from Happy's Flea Market and paired it with a REDACTED drum loop. By the time Sam recorded "The Knew Style", he had acquired a shitty old 1960s portable turntable off eBay. It didn't function properly when he bought it but his brother opened it up, cleaned it out and got it working: "I remember he told me that there was a bunch of sand inside of it when he opened it up, as if its previous owner had taken it to the beach. I would take that turntable on my Happy's Flea Market digs so I could preview records...that's how I found this loop."

"Chicken Wing Blues Sauce" loops up a classic blues joint and pairs it with some REDACTED drums. A bit of filtering and arranging et voilà! "Kool Breeze", from 1999, is one of Sam's oldest surviving beats, as is "Sexx Bullets". The Roots sampled the same record, leaving Sam frustrated yet vindicated. "Soul Child" was an early SU10 creation, looping a dusty old Soul Children 45 and pairing it with 70s rock drum loops to great effect. "Take Off Runnin" was another loop found digging with a portable turntable. Paired with some boom bap drums it makes for a hypnotic head-nod groove. "Centurian" was intended to be a little beat interlude a la Pete Rock. The sample is from a sun-dappled soft-psych record and it's paired with a Robin Trower drum loop that just happens to fit perfectly. Sometimes you slap things together kind of haphazardly and magic happens. "Bozack" was the first beat Sam made using Pro Tools, his first foray into using chopped sounds instead of loops, an exciting new world. "Church" is beat interlude using a Phil Upchurch loop with the "Long Red" drums - a favourite break of Dilla et al. Sam was really on a tear in late 2004, probably because he was unemployed and phoneless and able to just make beats all day. He made "Splash One" on a borrowed Yamaha SU700 and again was experimenting with tapping the drums in live with his fingers, instead of using a loop or sequenced pattern. Channeling 9th Wonder, Sam used a water splash sound effect from a Batman record as a percussive element, hence the title (also a 13th Floor Elevators reference). The main loop is a backwards portion of one of his favourite Roy Ayers songs.

"Hank" is another fun little beat interlude thing, created on a borrowed Roland SP202 sampler with the fantastic Lo-Fi effect that resembled the Emu SP1200 at a fraction of the price. "73 goatee", from 99, is another of his oldest surviving beats, created in his bedroom with his Yamaha SU10 and his brother's Vestax MR-300 4-track recorder: "This one will always feel special. I can remember having a feeling all the way back then on the night that I created it that this was a solid beat with a catchy loop. There was something in the Fender Rhodes melody that resonated with me emotionally, and I had never heard a producer sample that portion before. I felt like I had found my own unique sound, my own unique loop. It came from an Ahmad Jamal '73. I actually even recorded myself rapping and scratching over this beat way back then, I still have that version in all its imperfect sloppy glory."

Sam explains just how much these tracks mean to him: "They all have immense historical and sentimental value and I'm proud of them. These beats come from an innocent, simple time when I was just figuring out how to craft these sounds. They're something very personal to me. They are the initial part of a journey that I really was taking *alone*. There was no YouTube. I couldn't Google shit. I didn't even know any other beatmakers, producers or DJs in my town that could teach me anything. It was always just me, alone, in a room with some equipment - chasing the funky symphonies that filled my head and my dreams. What I was doing wasn't cool. Most of my peers thought I was a weirdo and couldn't care less. Creating these sounds was an anti-social endeavour. In a sense, I felt like it was me against the world, and all I had to instruct and assist me were the recordings produced by my heroes - RZA, DJ Premier, Erick Sermon, Beatminerz, Showbiz, Diamond D, Beatnuts, Prince Paul, The Bomb Squad, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, E-Swift, Mista Lawnge, DJ Shadow, Cut Chemist, Peanut Butter Wolf, El-P and so many more...I dedicate this collection to them, and to my older brother Joe who has always been a musical and technical guiding light for me.

This was a time before every kid was a self-described producer and beatmaker, before everyone had a DAW, before Kanye and "chipmunk soul", before Red Bull beat battles, before there was any social media beyond chat rooms and AOL Instant Messenger, before Soundcloud, before SP-404 mania, before lo-fi beats to study to, before Splice, before targeted ads for MIDI chord packs, etc. In 99 when I told people that I had a sampler and made beats I was mostly met with bewildered confusion and indifference. Kids and adults alike would wonder why I got this weird machine for Christmas instead of something worthwhile like a Playstation or a mountain bike or even a guitar for that matter because at least that could be used to make "real music". Back then, sampling was still not widely respected as an art form - it was seen as lazy, talentless and unoriginal at best and outright criminal theft at worst. I had gotten respect for playing drums and guitar and things of that nature but this was a step in the wrong direction in the eyes of many."

The cover photo is a picture of Sam standing on his back porch in the latter part of 1998, just before he got his first sampler. He was 13 years old, in 8th grade. His dad took the picture with his 35mm film camera: "I actually wanted to be pointing my dad's .22 pistol at the camera lens but he wouldn't let me. He gave me an old walking cane to use instead. The Tommy Hilfiger puffer jacket came from the lost and found at William Fleming High School where my mom worked as a secretary. I was thrilled when she brought it home because we never spent money on expensive name brand clothing like that - we were for the most part strictly a sale rack, bargain bin, thrift store, yard sale, flea market kind of family when it came to clothes. My watch is some cheap off-brand fake gold department store watch." Mastering for this vinyl edition was overseen by Be With regular Simon Francis and it was cut by the esteemed Cicely Balston at Abbey Road Studios to be pressed in the Netherlands by Record Industry.

Dez Dare launches into 2025 with his 5th album, ‘CHERYL! Your Love Shines Down Like A Supernova's Death'. Blending his unique mix of existential wordplay and experimental riffage to create an album that is at arms with itself while cohesive; cheeky and upbeat, simultaneously breaking our hearts. How often do we think about what we miss when we are distracted by shiny things? While fencing with social media, long winded stories, dreams of other lives, unnecessary toys, and irrelevant social experiments with happiness, we miss the things that make up our world. This album looks at those morsels of time and the bits that fill them, soaking existence… as well as manspreaders. Those people should be added to the 7th circle of hell… or suburbia. Either is probably a similar commute!
Dez Dare (AKA Darren Smallman of labels God Unknown, BATTLE WORLDWIDE, Low Transit Industries, and bands Thee Vinyl Creatures, The Sound Platform, Warped) grew up in Geelong, Australia, where he became involved in the local punk and rock scene in 1990. Sharing stages with the likes of 5678s, Cosmic Psychos, Fugazi, The Dirty Three and the Hard-ons, before shifting his focus to running record labels. In the 2020s we see Dez Dare take form in a spare room in Brighton, UK, where Dez starts building his own studio and producing music and videos that have been described as "sounds like MONSTER MAGNET and DEVO caught in a drug bust… highly unique and highly recommended" by MAXIMUM ROCKNROLL Nick Odorizzi to The Wire’s Edwin Pouncey "dynamically armed with a ten-pronged set of lyrical barbs and musical hooks that, once heard, sink deep and hold fast" to Crossfire Metal "minimalistic, electronic psychedelic hippie poop that is only bearable with a hell of a lot of acid, angel dust and LSD". On this album Dez was joined by Laura Loriga on backing vocals and Jonny Halifax on backing vocals and lap steel, expanding on the sound of previous records and adding a new dimension to his trademark weird-n-roll.


[a] 1.Cheryl! [Loading...

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Here is an expanded edition of one of Nurse With Wound's most intense and unique albums, so much so that for long-time fans, it was a strange, chaotic lounge oddity upon its release. For the first time, all four audio sides are complete (originally, there were only three sides).

To top it off, there is a stunning new cover by the great and talented Babs Santini, who is none other than Steven Stapleton using his artist pseudonym, continuing in the luxurious tradition of the "silver collection" at Rotorelief Records.

The album Huffin' Rag Blues by Nurse With Wound is unique in the NWW discography. Stapleton teams up with composer, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Andrew Liles, his co-creator of musical terrorism, to tackle the genres of exotica and lounge, crushed into a joyful cacophonic mess. Longtime NWW friends Colin Potter and Matt Waldron also join in.

Blues, jazz, cop movies, bachelor pads, and TV show music are treated, discarded, then chopped up and recycled into a mix that contains tons of space but also overflows with dynamic tension, hilarious asides, sexually suggestive poetry, and a certain rock & roll abandon. It's a very surprising album for long-time fans, like a soundtrack that could accompany a David Lynch film.

It's brilliant, exasperating, hilarious, and dark enough to earn a spot in any collection that appreciates a bit of weirdness and eccentricity.

Huffin' Rag Blues incorporates more familiar musical elements—including live-played instruments, rhythm, and vocals—than nearly any other Nurse With Wound album to date. As always, the album's main focus is to create environments for lucid dreaming rather than music per se.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

On their most explicit venture into music for moving image, Miles Whittaker & Sean Canty rudely fracture piano and vocal recordings by US filmmaker-musician Kristen Pilon in a short-circuiting of style and pattern.

Shredding up definitions of electro-acoustic opera, spectralist chamber musique and concrète rave, Demdike hit square between the eyes/ears of film music vernaculars on a startlingly strong addition to their unique oeuvre, now in its 16th year of elusive psychoacoustic strafes and jump-cuts across putative borders. The 13-part, hour-long album dislodges source material made for the experimental film ‘To Cut and Shoot’, by Kristen Pilon, an NYC-based musician and filmmaker, to farther refract the film’s themes of serendipity and the nature of ghosts and dreams with a flickering flux of sound-imagery and aleatoric weirdness appropriate to her original meditations, but also freely messing with their forms.

Situated just a few miles north of Houston, Cut and Shoot is a relatively insignificant Texas town with an unforgettably bizarre name. Pilon grew up not far from Cut and Shoot, and it's there where she ran into 65-year-old machinist and motorcyclist Robert Lewis Stevenson, better known as Bobbo, who's pictured on the album's cover. The meeting occurred a few months after Pilon recorded her improvisations on piano, strings and voice in the basement cellar of the Halle in Manchester, with Bobbo providing the necessary narrative heft the trio needed to inspire an experimental film and its accompanying soundtrack.

Responding to Kristen’s initial piano and operatic vocal recordings, Demdike return a volley of discrete parts tilting from typically cantankerous mayhem to quieter, more clandestine buzzes sliced with crazed interstices of the imagination, all marbled with the plasmic contrails of the paranormal which have long been peculiar to their work. With a poetic flair reflecting Pilon’s own phrasing and melding of mediums, Demdike unfold and expand her melodic fragments into temporal mazes, variously resembling the most messed-up ends of The Caretaker in ‘A Grave Fall (January)’, but also liable to skew into buckshot club turbulence, as with ‘Belly Up’, or the bittersweet bruk contortions of ‘Twist’.

The storyline wickedly frays and loops into itself with a non-linearity that recalls the mid-to-latter stages of Lynch’s ‘Mulholland Drive’ or waking from a sweaty fever dream only to pitch back into its thorny bush of ghosts, often within the space of one track. It’s testament to the ever-tighter binds of Demdike’s symbiotic vision that the results nevertheless hold a thread of logic that weaves in everything from their Jon Collin jams to reams of mixes and Gruppo edits with an unresolved, open-ended quality that still keeps us on our toes, perhaps more so than ever here.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

The Tubs' second album, Cotton Crown, sees the Celtic Jangle boyband venture into darker, more personal territor y while continuing to hone their highly addictive brand of songcraft. It 's a true level up album which sees the band expand their sonic palette to take in a kaleidoscopic range of influences: everything from soulful pub rock (Chain Reaction) to Husker Du aggression (One More Day) to melancholy sophisto-pop (Narcissist) gets a look in. As Pitchfork noted, The Tubs see jangle as a `vast world of moods and muses' and Cotton Crown sees them continuing to explore this world and creating a distinctly Tub-ular sound in the process. This is in no small part down to Owen `O' Williams' vocal performance- often compared to a young Richard Thomson- and his frank, bleakly funny lyric writing. Cotton Crown sees him delve further into his favourite themes of love-psychosis, unsympathetic mentally ill behaviour, and the humiliations of being a musician in London. This time around, however, there's a palpable sense of risk in his self assessments/confessions. No more so in the track's closing track Strange- an accounting of the clumsy, intrusive, well-meaning social interactions that took place in the period following the suicide of his mother (the folk singer Charlotte Greig.) As Williams says: "I'd tried a few times to write a song about it. The result had always seemed either mawkish, simplifying or like I was hawking my trauma. But then this one came out, and it felt right because it looked at something smaller: the weird, unsatisfying, strangely funny ways everyone, including myself, acted after the dust settled." The album artwork features an image of Williams as an infant being breastfed by Greig in a graveyard- a promotional shot taken around the release of her debut album (the re-issue of which was featured in The Guardian in 2023.) The essential trick Cotton Crown plays is to offset Williams' lyrical bleakness with joyous, hook-laden blasts of pop perfection. This is largely down to the guitar work of George Nicholls, who, across the album, effortlessly slips between the virtuoso jangle of Marr, the driving folk-rock of Pentangle and the chorus-heavy hi-fi grooves of contemporary bands like Tops or The 1975. Add to that the breakneck rhythm section of Taylor Stewart (Drums) and Max Warren (Bass)- who attack each song with power-pop ferocity, recalling Guided by Voices at their drunken-yet-tight best- and you've got yourself a recipe for indie rock greatness. The band's debut `Dead Meat' was a word-of-mouth sensation that saw the band earn accolades from Pitchfork, The Guardian, MOJO, SPIN and more. They even gained some celeb fans: the inimitable Mark Proksch (The Office (US), Better Call Saul, What We Do in the Shadows) starred in the video for their "Round the Bend" single & punk legend Iggy Pop has praised them on his BBC 6Music radio program. Standing in opposition to the UK norm of post punk, and hookless high-minded indie prog, the album was described by Kitty Empire (Observer) as a "shot in the arm for indie rock". The band's hard touring and raucous, beer y live show have seen them stand out at festivals like Greenman, End of The Road, Melbourne Rising and Canela Party. The band (minus Stewart) were previously members of Joanna Gruesome- who won the Welsh Music Prize, toured the UK and US extensively, and were praised in Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, The NY Times, The Guardian and others. Lan Mcardle (Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void) also provides backing vocals on several tracks. The Tubs are part of the Gob Nation collective- the London-based network of bands, writers and promoters who were recently profiled in The Guardian.

Loyle Carner will release his highly anticipated sophomore record, 'Not Waving, But Drowning' on 19 April via AMF Records.

'Not Waving, But Drowning' follows Loyle's BRIT (Best Male, Best Newcomer) and Mercury Prize nominated, top 20 debut 'Yesterday's Gone'. The bedrock of honest and raw sentimentality that you heard on 'Yesterday's Gone' left an inextinguishable mark on music in general and UK Hip Hop in particular, standing out as an ageless, bulletproof debut.

'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's new album, gives yet more evidence - as if it were needed - of his razor-sharp flow and his unique storytelling ability. Yes, he can rap, but he allies that with the sensitivity of a poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, 'a woman from the skies', and he's moving out.

It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator.

Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. 'Ottolenghi' the first single from the album was featured on the BBC Radio 1 B-list, BBC 6 Music A-list and has already been streamed over 5 million times.

Loyle refers to real life for everything, the title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving, But Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend Rebel Kleff after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead.

Loyle also has his own personal black consciousness movement. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). With no real emotional ties to his biological father, but a deep connection with a deceased step-father, where does a young child turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain on 'Looking Back'.

An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Kwes, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place.
Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or a society that lets so many down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. Loyle's 2019 Spring tour - which includes London's Roundhouse - sold out within 20 minutes of being on sale.

Not Waving, But Drowning



A rapper that raps about family is hard to find. The boys in the 'hood' tend not to be that interested in how much a 'brother' loves his mother, or how much he misses his dad, or even how much he misses his best friend. The boys in the 'hood' tend to be obsessed with the size of their cars, girls, bank accounts, and other personal 'possessions'. Loyle Carner's Mercury and BRIT Prize nominated debut 'Yesterday's Gone' (Released 2017), made it clear that he wasn't that kind of rapper. In fact, every time I talk to him about his work we talk about the world, and we tended to confuse ourselves by calling his work rap, poems, or songs, sometimes in the same sentence. They are in truth all of these things.



Here's some poetry.



Honestly I need them.

I hate them but I grieve them

I think I've finally found the reason

Trust

Like the fire needs the air.

I won't burn unless you're there.





'Not Waving, But Drowning', Loyle's forthcoming new album, gives us yet more evidence, (if it were needed), that he still has what rappers call, flow, but he hasn't lost any of his story telling qualities. Yes, the boy can rap, but a rapper with the sensitivity of a true poet, the observational skills of a novelist, and warmth of your best friend. The album opens with 'Dear Jean', a letter to his mother in which he's telling her that he has found the love of his life, (a woman from the skies), and he's moving out. He really loves the woman from the skies, but he still loves his mum, and so he reassures her that there is no competition, and tells her that 'She's not behind me or behind you, but beside we and beside two', his words. Or to put it another way, moving out without moving out. My words.



It goes without saying that Loyle's music is hard to categorise, but what is even more impressive is that for someone who grew up listening to Mos Def, Biggie Smalls, Roots Manuva, and Wu Tang Clan, he doesn't sound like any of them. Although he might from time to time give lyrical nods to them, he's no imitator. He says finding his own voice was something he always found easy. Although young, (in terms of a musical career), he has confidence in his own words and his own voice, and has never been tempted to sound like he's been hanging out in the USA, or rolling in 'Grime' on the mean streets of East London. And so when it comes to the creative process he doesn't simply find a beat to jump on and ride. Beats are important, but they are tenderly layered with samples, keyboards, or live drums, all imaginatively assembled for the laying on of words. Some tracks start with the idea, some with poetry, and some with a verse from a singer or some other melodic inspiration, but there is no formula.



Here's some poetry.



Don't hold any memories of us

Rather hold you everyday until the memories are dust

Yo we only caught the train

Cos you know I hate the bus





A prolific reader, who has dyslexia is hard to find. Add ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) to that and life should become even more difficult. To deal with your difficulties you devise coping strategies, which can differ from person to person. Loyle loves cooking. There are two tracks on this album named after chefs. The British-Israeli chef Ottolenghi, and the now deceased Italian chef Antonio Carluccio. Loyle describes himself as 'weird' because he is happy to read a cookbook as if he was reading a novel or a book of poetry. He has opened a cookery school for young adults not just because he loves food and wants to make more of it, but because it is one of the few things that can focus the ADHD mind. And when it comes to his other love, football, his approach is the same. Focus. He wanted to be a striker he says, up front scoring goals, but found his best position was in midfield because he was able to focus, check options, and see passes ahead of time, providing passes for other players just when they needed them. He says, 'You don't grow out of ADHD, you grow into it.' Loyle is also working with Levi's® on their music project where he is mentoring young musicians over a six month period, culminating at Liverpool Sound City festival.



More poetry.



When the going is tough

I wait till it falls on deaf ears

Hearsay

Without the boundaries of love



He also said, 'Ask most people and they will say that they love their mothers, but most are not going to rap about her'. On his first album Loyle's mum Jean wrote about the 'scribble of a boy' that growing up would take things apart to see how they worked. On this album she speaks with pride about a man who has found his place in the world.



Yes, poetry.



I'm still looking for the answers

Trying to find the right questions

Still waiting for my fathers

But can't break them in to sections



This poetry is serious. Loyle has his own personal black consciousness movement. He told me that he always felt safe at home, and being the darkest one in the family never meant a thing, but then when he had to face the outside world he felt hostility. It shook him up. Now he had to start asking questions, but what were the questions. This is serious. When he refers to his 'fathers' in the verse above taken from the track 'Looking Back' he really is referring to two fathers. His biological father, a black man who he knows, but knows very little of, and his step father, a poet and musician who happens to be a white man but died a sudden unexpected death from epilepsy (SUDEP). So to whom would a young black (or mixed race) kid turn He succinctly captures many of the great, unspoken, cultural and historical paradoxes of multicultural Britain when he says, 'My great grandfather could of owned my other one.' We are a people descended from enslaved people on one hand, and enslavers on the other, something we are still struggling to come to terms with, and this can be apparent in one family. A big book could have told you that, but here we get it in one line on the track, Looking Back.





Loyle refers to real life for everything. The album is peppered with captured moments that he records on his phone. These moments can range from conversations with taxi drivers, to capturing the moment when England scores a goal in the world cup. The title of 'Yesterday's Gone' came from a song of his step father, the title of his new album 'Not Waving but Drowning' comes from a poem by his grandfather, which in turn came from a Stevie Smith poem. What you hear on the track 'Krispy' is real. He is pouring his heart out to his best friend after their relationship went downhill, he invites him on the track to say his piece but he doesn't turn up, so we get a flugel solo instead. Yes people, this is real.



An album like this is hard to find. It is for those who like their Hip Hop to have soul, and their soul to have spirit, this is an album for those who have, (I'm sorry, I'm going to say it), emotional intelligence. This is because it works on so many levels, but it is reflecting the personality of its creator. There are a host of collaborators here, Jorja Smith, Rebel Kleff, Kiko Bun, Jordan Rakei, Sampha, Tom Misch and more, but none are overpowering. They blend righteously into place. Loyle is not bitter with people who have let him down, or the society that has let him down, but the combination of anger and love he has gives his voice the perfect blend of strength and vulnerability. This might be a coming of age album, but it's also a coming of ageless album. His first album worked, and this second album is a continuation of that work. Not creating a form, but being formless, as someone like Bruce Lee once said.

And here's some poetry from mum.



We talked long in to the darkest hours

Until we saw the burnished sky

And our eyes stung

As our words blurred and became thoughts

As we were silenced by the dawn

We clung to each other like sailors in a storm

NEW ORDER continue the series of Definitive boxsets, with the band's 1986 album Brotherhood. The boxset will include the original album remastered on CD and 180g LP, plus an Extras CD with previously unreleased demos and rarities, as well as two DVDs featuring the band's performances at Festival of the Tenth at the GMex, Manchester 1986 and Live in Brixton, 1987 in support of World AIDS Day. The DVDs will additionally include live TV performances, interviews and rare band footage. The extensive hardback book will include contemporary articles and liner notes by Irish radio DJ Dave Fanning.





CD Tracks:
1. Paradise
2. Weirdo
3. As It Is When It Was
4. Broken Promise
5. Way of Life
6. Bizarre Love Triangle
7. All Day Long
8. Angel Dust
9. Every Little Counts
10. State of the Nation

CD2
1. Shellshock (AOR Version) *
2. State Of The Nation (Japan Demo) *
3. Paradise (Robert Racic Remix)
4. As It Is When It Was (Japan Demo) *
5. Broken Promise (Instrumental) *
6. Bizarre Love Triangle (Stephen Hague 12” Remix) *
7. All Day Long (Instrumental) *
8. Evil Dust
9. Every Little Counts (Full Length) *
10. Salvation Theme
11. Skullcrusher (Full Length) *
12. Touched By The Hand Of God (Salvation Version)
13. Let's Go (Salvation Version)
14. Sputnik
15. Blue Monday 1988 (Michael Johnson 12” Remix) *
(* previously unreleased)

DVD1
Live at the Academy Brixton, 1987
1. Bizarre Love Triangle
2. The Perfect Kiss
3. Ceremony
4. Dreams Never End
5. Love Vigilantes
6. Confusion
7. Age Of Consent
8. Temptation
TV Appearances
BBC Northern Ireland – Channel One 1986.
Ceremony
Love Will Tear Us Apart
The Tube 1986.
State Of The Nation
Broken Promise
Top of the Pops 1987.
True Faith
Les Enfants du Rock, Rockline 1987.
Paradise
Bizarre Love Triangle
The Roxy, 1987.
True Faith
11pm, 1987.
Bizarre Love Triangle
Extra Material
Stephen’s Fly On The Wall Documentary 1985.
Recording 'As It Is' and ‘Shame of the Nation’ at Denon Studios, Tokyo (May 1985).
DVD2
Live at the G-Mex, Manchester, 19/07/86.
1. Elegia
2. Shellshock
3. Paradise
4. Bizarre Love Triangle
5. Way Of Life
6. State Of The Nation
7. Face Up
8. The Perfect Kiss
9. Ceremony
10. Temptation
Live Extra Material
Glastonbury, 1987.
True Faith
Sister Ray
San Giovanni, 1986.
Dreams Never End
Pier 84, New York, 1987.
All Day Long
Angel Dust
Shellshock
Weirdo
Rapido, Paris 1987.
True Faith
G-Mex, Manchester, 1988.
Touched By the Hand of God
Every Little Counts

Mac DeMarco, formerly Makeout Videotape, is the anti-thesis to your stereotypical singer-songwriter. Disregarding the seriously somber moments, he replaces them with whimsical and youthful spontaneity, whilst retaining the endearing and subtle commentaries that exude his familiarity. Promptly after leaving his Edmonton garage for Vancouver he embarked on a North American tour accompanying fellow Canadians Japandroids on a grand voyage of enlightenment and alcoholic debauchery. DeMarco's a weird cat cultivating an affinity for occult imagery, nudity and social satire. But his most impressive trait is his undeniable and instinctual ability to compose magical pop jangles, of which he'll likely refer to as "jizz jazz". His dusted jams have garnished him accolades that are as ever-increasing as his song writing abilities; his sound rendering comparisons, but in a nomadic fashion alluding no distinct origin. DeMarco's debut solo EP entitled "Rock And Roll Night Club" will ramble into the great unknown guided by Captured Tracks, DeMarco's inner Elvis a tow.

Harde Smart is back again! With the new Harde Smart 7" Sampler, you get a taste of the upcoming Harde Smart Volume 2: Flemish & Dutch grooves from the 1980's, the successor to the acclaimed original Harde Smart compilation that showcased the best of the Dutch-linguistic territory back in the '70s. Even in the decade that followed, a whole host of gems were made that were remarkably danceable, catchy and playful, as proven by the two tracks on this sampler. Joost Belinfante puts it nicely on the B-side: 'nothing to prove, nothing to claim, it is as it is.' Harde Smart never disappoints.

Harde Smart Volume 2: Flemish & Dutch grooves from the 1980's

Harde Smart is on it with the sophomore compilation effort Flemish & Dutch grooves from the 1980's. Vinyl aficionado's No Sleep Richy and Micha Marva teamed up with Sjefke De Kok (one of Holland's illest to rack those crates!) to continue their journey. While raking deep in the dusty bins with Dutch and Flemish records, they once again discovered an exquisite selection of tracks. Too weird to play, too rare to throw away. From butt-shaking boogie to weird disco adventures on wax, this album is sounding like all the good stuff the eighties had to offer: both smooth and sexy as well as dark and wavy. Get ready for an atypical introduction into the Dutch lyric-driven music from the 1980's.

The Harde Smart 7" Sampler will be released on Friday 15 March 2024 via Sdban. Harde Smart volume 2: Flemish & Dutch Grooves From the 80's will be released soon via Sdban

A Paris resident of Minsk origin, Lina Filipovich’s ‘Music for an imaginary dancefloor’ explores the liminal space between club music and something altogether weirder, elusive, and abstract. Nervous, varied and amplified by various delays, the LP was written from improvisations on analogue synthesizers between June and December in 2022.

Atonal drones and atmospheric textures convey imagery of charcoal skies and silk tapestries; an idealised parallel world untethered from reality and bodies, towards something more ethereal – floating freely in red carpet lined corridors.

“In my previous works, I used pre-existing sounds to create new pieces. I was interested in the appropriation and decontextualization of materials from various traditions and contexts. However, in this album, I don't deconstruct; instead, I attempt to co-write with the machines, relying on their aesthetics and my imagination.”

Lina's LP trickles down the spine, pulse-raising and gooseflesh on tender skin, analogous to the aftermath of a sweaty fever dream. Speaking the language of spirits in the allure of the dark.

Press release by Asmi Shetty

During our search for souvenirs from imaginary cities, we stumble upon other curiosities.


We present our new sublabel ‘Curio Cabinet’. A Series of 7-inch records in-between the Souvenir releases.


The first curiosity comes from Mills Boogie's moniker Sly Boogie. He kicks off the series with an Electro infused 130 bpm Dub track that asks to head nod at half speed.


Weird Dust juggles a solid stepper version of the Bushman Slyde track on the flip side. Heavy subs included!

Did you know that for decades, record collectors across the Dutch-speaking region have overlooked a significant portion of their own musical heritage while avidly searching for rare grooves and breaks in bins filled with more exotic music? It's a fact! And that's where Harde Smart comes in. After delving deep into dusty crates of Belgian and Dutch music, Harde Smart's inaugural compilation in 2019, dedicated to music from the 1970s, brought to light a selection of smooth, jazzy, funky, and soulful gems from Flanders (the Dutch-speaking part of Belgium) and Holland. In addition to exquisite grooves and hard-pounding drums, these songs shared Dutch lyrics, offering a unique compilation of lyric-driven Flemish and Dutch music from back in the days.

Yet, nothing is as certain as the unexpected. This compilation marked the first time a Dutch album uncovered the authentic Afro-American funk and soul vibe, which, albeit sporadically, influenced the work of both popular and lesser-known singers and musicians in this corner of the world during the 1970s. Undoubtedly, influences also stemmed from French chanson and rock music of the era. This 21-trackalbum shattered all musical predictability, taking listeners on a strange and nostalgic journey, offering a revised collection of "essential homegrown classics" for local listeners while also captivating non-Dutch-speaking audiences.

With the second compilation, Harde Smart shifts its focus from the 1970s sound to explore the next decade, the 1980s. Vinyl aficionados No Sleep Richy and Micha Marva joined forces with Sjefke De Kok, one of Holland's premier crate diggers, to continue their musical odyssey. Digging even deeper into dusty bins filled with Dutch and Flemish records once again unearthed an exquisite selection of tracks-too weird to play, too rare to ignore. From butt-shaking boogie to weird disco adventures on wax, this album encapsulates all the good stuff of the 1980s: smooth and seductive alongside dark and wavy. Get ready for an atypical introduction into the Dutch lyric-driven music from the 1980's.

THE VISION BLEAK kehren in der Luxusklasse zurück: Mit ihrem siebten Album "Weird Tales" zollt das deutsche Metal-Duo dem gleichnamigen amerikanischen Pulp-Magazin sowie anderen Geschichten voller Mystik und dunkler Phantasie einen monumentalen Tribut. Das Album besteht aus einem einzigen Track, der in interne Kapitel unterteilt ist. Diese erzählen schaurig-schöne Geschichten, vertonen Gedichte und sind von der klassischen Literatur des Horror sowie des Makabren inspiriert. Unter anderen beziehen sich THE VISION BLEAK auf bedeutende Autoren des legendären Weird Tales Magazins wie H. P. Lovecraft und Clark Ashton Smith. Sie spielen aber auch auf andere Großmeister der Phantastischen Literatur an wie zum Beispiel Edgar Allen Poe und Lafcadio Hearn, dessen "Fantastics and Other Fancies" einen starken Einfluss auf dieses Album ausgeübt hat. Für diese Hommage ziehen THE VISION BLEAK alle Register ihres enormen musikalischen Könnens. Die Kapitel decken die gesamte stilistische Bandbreite von extravagantem Gothic Rock über düsteren Doom bis hin zu harschen Black und Death Metal Parts - sowie so ziemlich alles dazwischen - ab. All die spannenden Elemente, welche die Anhängerschar des Duos lieben und schätzen gelernt hat, sind auf diesem Album vertreten: das Dramatische und Theatralische, das Raue und Schwere, das Melancholische und Unheimliche, aber auch eingängige und symphonische Momente. All diese Stränge sind zu einem dichten Klangteppich verwoben, der von einem wiederkehrendem Auf- und Abschwellen zusammengehalten wird, das an klassische Kompositionen erinnert. THE VISION BLEAK sind aus der Freundschaft zwischen Gitarrist, Bassist und Sänger Markus Stock alias Ulf Theodor Schwadorf und Schlagzeuger und Sänger Tobias Schönemann alias Allen B. Konstanz entstanden. Nach anfänglichen Experimenten in Richtung Gothic Rock fanden THE VISION BLEAK ihre eigentliche Berufung, als das Duo begann, ihre gemeinsame Liebe zum Horror-Genre mit einzubeziehen. Bereits das Debütalbum "The Deathship Has a New Captain" (2004) erzielte sowohl in Gothic- als auch Metal-Kreisen auf Anhieb einen Volltreffer und gilt mittlerweile als Klassiker. Da das Debütalbum thematisch an bedeutende Horrorfilme angelehnt war, nannten die Deutschen ihren Stil treffend: Horror Metal. Mit den folgenden Alben kultivierten THE VISION BLEAK einen Ruf als Garanten für stilvolle und hochwertige Musik. Thematisch drehen sich alle Werke um das Horror-Genre: Auf "Carpathia" (2005) folgten "The Wolves Go Hunt Their Prey" (2007) und "Set Sail to Mystery" (2010), "Witching Hour" (2013) und "The Unknown" (2016). THE VISION BLEAK, die Meister des Horror Metal, schenken der Welt ihr bisher ambitioniertestes Werk: "Weird Tales". Diese ausnehmend schöne und von Herzen kommende Hommage an das goldene Zeitalter der Phantastischen Literatur ist musikalische Poesie. Der Hörer möge mit Bedacht lauschen, sollte dabei aber immer auf der Hut sein. In diesem Song lauern unheimliche und verbotene Klänge aus anderen dunklen Welten!

Ploy kicks off the year with the third release on his Deaf Test imprint with his own strain of club rattling 4/4 house music.

The A side - Vortex (stripped mix) - rolls out an infectious three note bassline, rumbling alongside seven minutes of cranky arps and sharp risers with a minute long breakdown providing the only respite amidst the unrelenting groove. Tech house through Ploy’s weirdo lens.

Vocal chops and slapping percussion feature on Vortex (busy mix), deftly layered over the pounding U.S garage drums and explosive hits. A main room roller for the peak hours.

In Your Head races along a galvanic bassline and guttural techno synths, complemented by an earworm vocal hook (a ploy signature). Rude UK tech house business.

Eyez On U is a ‘tough as nails’ progressive drum workout. Functional club gear with bags of groove and industrial strength breaks, slapping you around the dancefloor.

Sending winds down the 5 tracker with sultry r&b vocals floating over hazy synths, glossy strings and a dusty drum groove. A nod to Detroit and the house music that has informed his work for the past decade.

Written, produced and mixed by S. Smith
Additional mixing from Thomas Bulwer on Vortex and In Your Head
Mastered by Beau Thomas

Dazzle rolled deep. Very deep. In the 1980s, it wasn't unusual for the Milwaukee-based group to show up at various Midwest night clubs in a caravan of 30-40 cars and vans. Their live following was hard won over a career that spanned 20+ years, many line up changes, and a handful of project names. Friends, family, and fans made the journey with them weekend after weekend, a testimony to both the musical prowess of the group and the tight-knit community that they emerged from.

Donald Smith, band leader, was there the whole time - joined by many of his siblings and friends - first as founder of the Ghetto Players, a early 70's nine-piece which also included siblings Michael, Ronald, and Charles. They played hard funk in the style of early Kool and the Gang, and although they sadly left no recordings, the strength of their live act managed to catch the eye of local Milwaukee R&B music entrepreneur Cobie Joe Payne. Cobie had made a couple of records locally in the early/mid 70s as a singer, including the impossibly weird and amazing rare afro-blues-funk 45 "Sweet Thing", but had never enjoyed national success. When the Ghetto Players disbanded in the early-mid 70s, Donald soon put together a new group, C on the Funk (the 'C' referring to lead vocalist and sibling Charles), under Payne's tutelage. Sister Lorrie Smith came in as the drummer, the line-up being fleshed out by brothers David and Melvin Johnson, and friend Robert Mitchell. After a few years as a strictly live attraction, they drove to Chicago and produced a single, "In the Disco" / "A Place" for Payne's small record label Sweet Thang Records in 1980. Lacking the financial backing needed to supply the local R&B disk jockey's "promotional fees" , this single sadly languished in obscurity, gathering dust inside the local tavern jukeboxes and manilla promo envelopes that comprised Payne's DIY distribution network.

C on the Funk were traveling the Mid West extensively at this point, and making some important friends on the road. Ike Wiley Jr. of the Dazz Band/Kinsman Dazz took particular interest and the band was re-christened Dazzle, partially as a tie-in with Dazz, partially to embrace the new sounds that would distinguish the 70s disco scene from what record collectors and DJs would now refer to as the "Boogie" era. There no doubt was a stigma attached to the word "Disco" as the eighties began, and as we see in this collection C On the Funk's "In the Disco" is remixed and transformed into the psychedelic synth instrumental of Dazzle's "Disco's Out", a title which embodies both the next-step approach Smith and company were pushing for, and humorously comments on the state of black dance music in the early 1980s. The Dazzle recording, done in Chicago in 1982, updated the sound and featured an expanded line up, most notably a second synth player (Charles Washington), and a percussionist/second lead vocalist (Greg McDonald). The added synth textures and deep percussive grooves give the Dazzle recordings an elegant late night vibe that resonate just as well in a good pair of headphones as they do on the dance floor. The trance inducing cough syrup-warble of "Explain" may best exemplify this here. Sadly, a pressing flaw in the 12" halted production and promotion, and the EP and the songs within were lost to the ages. The group, having done a much better line in the live music business, followed that path instead all the way to the early 90s. --bio provided by andy noble

Bathed in a green haze, the crowd oozed to the mutant rock and roll roaring from the basement's dusty depths — everything and everyone was sweaty and sticky. But as Speedy Ortiz crammed into the back corner, their grins just inches away from ours, D.C.’s Dougout became a moshed-and-sloshed sauna of 20-somethings delirious on rock euphoria.

After spending much of the new millennium bored out of my skull by network soap indie, Speedy Ortiz — not to mention its pals in Pile, Ovlov, Grass is Green and the rest of New England’s burgeoning basement scene — was rock's wild howl. The songs were unpredictable, yet weirdly memorable, swaggering with a winky and wry sense of self. Riffs would twist with a topsy tenderness, then slam a ruptured discord. Sadie Dupuis' sphinxian-yet-sensitive lyrics were not only matched but accentuated by her coil-sprung vibrato. How could Speedy Ortiz not immediately become my new favorite band?

What began as a short-lived solo project recorded in Dupuis' off-hours as a rock camp counselor became a four-piece band in Northampton, Mass., by the end of 2011: Dupuis on guitar and vocals with drummer Mike Falcone, bassist Darl Ferm and guitarist Matt Robidoux. They made cool mixtapes, cracked inside jokes and gushed about teenagers that opened for them on tour. They freaked out (via LiveJournal) when they met the bassist from Polvo or Helium's Mary Timony, but also rolled their eyes at '90s indie-rock comparisons. The band's first single — the gender-bending got-laid grunge yowler "Taylor Swift'' — elicited that rare response of the simultaneous giggle and headbang. The Sports EP amped up the taut yet rubbery riffery.

Released July 9, 2013, Major Arcana is filled with wedding chapel exorcisms, oiled-down attractants and criminally twisted puny little villains — this is Dupuis' haunted lexicon as she scales the toxic Aggro Crag of a breakup. And while Dupuis wrote these songs, the band's convulsing arrangements and diverse influences sprawled the squigglier edges of feedbacked fuzz to mete out matters of the heart. Falcone — who, it's worth noting, has a knack for vocal harmony — swung as much as he smashed the drums. In easily tipoverable songs, Ferm's burly bass and percussive overdubs gave the unruly glee its momentum. Robidoux ripped skronky guitar solos and countered Dupuis' riffs with decorative splatter. Over a four-day marathon session at Sonelab in Easthampton, recording engineer Justin Pizzoferrato sparked the studio imagination of Speedy Ortiz — not only leaning into gritty tones but layer-caking dense dynamics that made these songs pop and pulverize.

For all her sweet-toothed seething, Dupuis was not easy on herself. Everyone's allowed the idiot growing pains of your 20s and the misery that follows, but I can only imagine the emotional exhaustion that playing these songs on the road, night after night, must have wrought. "But you left something on my lips: a mark so sick," she repeats over the doomy destruction that ends the album. Thinking back to the many Speedy Ortiz shows I caught in those early years, including an unofficial after-after party for my own wedding, "MKVI" often served as the noisy down-and-out closer — heads would bang in solidarity as the crowd became co-authors in the chaos, the biting phrase now a hex, Speedy Ortiz forever our coven. —Lars Gotrich

To celebrate the 10th Anniversary of Major Arcana, Speedy Ortiz release a remastered edition on Carpark Records.

GER SMILE zeigen mit ihrem hervorragenden Debut PRICE OF PROGRESS leichtfüßig auf, dass Post Punk im Jahre 2023 noch immer erfrischend klingen kann. Sie nehmen ihre Referenzen nicht als Dogma, bleiben experimentell, eigensinnig. Erzählerisch, eingängig, rough und anschmiegsam verschmelzen dabei die feinsinnigen, poetischen Beobachtungen von Sängerin Rubee True Fegan (USA) mit dem versierten Sound einer Band, die von Produzent Olaf Opal genau dahin gebracht wurde, wo sie hingehört: an den Startblock innovativer, kluger und sinnlicher Gitarrenmusik. In PRICE OF PROGRESS manifestiert sich das Zusammenspiel aus musikalischem Sturm und Drang und der Reife einer reflektierten Erzählperspektive. Was hier entstanden ist, klingt nun, 2023, in seiner jugendlichen Frische durchaus nach einem Debut - gleichzeitig aber nach dem Werk einer erfahrenen, über lange Zeit gewachsenen Band. Nur deutsch klingt es nicht, was sicher im Wesen von Sängerin Rubees True Fegans Heimat Albuquerque (New Mexico) begründet liegt, gleichsam aber in der Vielseitigkeit, die sich SMILE erlauben - und ihrer einhergehenden Virtuosität an den Instrumenten. SMILE versuchen sich dabei - einem Post-Punk britischer Machart folgend - durchaus in homogener Geradlinigkeit (Herrengedeck), lassen Kühle zu (Machine Dreaming) und folgen einem düsteren Ernst (Säge). Diese Facetten aber vermengen sich mit einer heiteren Experimentierfreude (Stalemate, Produce, Hungry Ghosts), mit Humor (Doohickey), mit verträumter Beschwingtheit (Commuter) und Genresprengender Pop-Af finität (Protection). So zeigt sich dieses stilsichere Album in einer Vielseitigkeit, die heute selten zu finden ist - und klingt trotzdem wie aus einem Guss. Auch die ersten drei Singles zeigen gut das Panorama, das SMILE mit ihrem Debut aufmachen: Dog In The Manger erinnert zunächst an Talk Talks Happiness Is Easy, wechselt aber nach dem Drum-Intro schnell die Spur. Der Opener der Platte stellt Rubee als Sängerin vor, die, trotz einer gewissen Gelassenheit in der Performance, von Wut und Traurigkeit getrieben ist. Der Text ist eine politische Reflexion, ausgelöst vom gekippten Abtreibungsrecht in den USA, das sich mit einer alten griechischen Fabel verbindet. So startet das Album mit einem Rätsel und offenbart, das Musik noch immer eine Waffe sein kann - aus Sound, Herz und Verstand. In Doohickey, einem der beschwingtesten Songs der Platte, kramt Rubee in ihrer Erinnerung, besucht ihre verstorbene Großmutter, eine unfreundliche alte Frau, die in ihrem Haus hortete, was sie fand. So entsteht eine Kurzgeschichte über die weirdest person alive und zeigt SMILE als Band, in der Text und Musik nicht konkurrieren, sondern stets Symbiose feiern. Zackig und temporeich wie das erzählte Leben kommen auch Gitarren und Rhythmussektion daher, finden zu einer soghaften Dynamik, ohne mit billigen Sing-alongs zu arbeiten. Protection, die dritte Single, ist wohl das eigensinnigste Stück der Platte, erzeugt, gesanglich pendelnd zwischen Blood Orange und Bands wie Siouxsie & The Banshees oder Bow Wow Wow, eine breite und intensive Palette, bringt einen The Fall-artigen Witz ein und wird zwischen den vermittelten Gefühlen zur Achterbahnfahrt. Das Stück schrieb Gitarrist Lars Fritzsche, mit dem Ziel, einen klassischen Hit zu schaffen (gelungen, wenn auch nicht klassisch!) - und schuf in der Offenheit des Songs dabei eine perfekte Fläche, die nun gleich mehrere Stimmen der Band versammelt. Im Zentrum: Rubee, die hier einen Text performt, der zwischen Traum und Cut-up ihren poetischen Glanz scheinen lässt. Die aus der Hüfte geschüttelte Dramaturgie ist dabei Paradebeispiel für die Innovation einer der spannendsten neuen Gitarrenbands, die nun auf dem Indielabel Siluh (Wien) eine Heimat zwischen Köln, Bonn und Albuquerque gefunden hat. Wahnsinn! (Hendrik Otremba)

ENG SMILE IS A POST-PUNK BAND WITH A SINGER, WHO PREFERS NOT TO SING. INSTEAD, SHE INTONES HER POETIC STORIES SPIKED WITH PERSONAL REFLECTIONS. With their excellent debut PRICE OF PROGRESS, SMILE light-footedly show that post punk can still sound refreshing in 2023. They don't take their references as dogma, remain experimental, stubborn. Narrative, catchy, rough and cuddly, the subtle, poetic observations of singer Rubee True Fegan (USA) merge with the accomplished sound of a band that producer Olaf Opal has put exactly where it belongs: on the starting block of innovative, clever and sensual guitar music. In PRICE OF PROGRESS, the interplay of musical Sturm und Drang and the maturity of a reflective narrative perspective manifests itself. Ltd pink vinyl LP!

GER SMILE zeigen mit ihrem hervorragenden Debut PRICE OF PROGRESS leichtfüßig auf, dass Post Punk im Jahre 2023 noch immer erfrischend klingen kann. Sie nehmen ihre Referenzen nicht als Dogma, bleiben experimentell, eigensinnig. Erzählerisch, eingängig, rough und anschmiegsam verschmelzen dabei die feinsinnigen, poetischen Beobachtungen von Sängerin Rubee True Fegan (USA) mit dem versierten Sound einer Band, die von Produzent Olaf Opal genau dahin gebracht wurde, wo sie hingehört: an den Startblock innovativer, kluger und sinnlicher Gitarrenmusik. In PRICE OF PROGRESS manifestiert sich das Zusammenspiel aus musikalischem Sturm und Drang und der Reife einer reflektierten Erzählperspektive. Was hier entstanden ist, klingt nun, 2023, in seiner jugendlichen Frische durchaus nach einem Debut - gleichzeitig aber nach dem Werk einer erfahrenen, über lange Zeit gewachsenen Band. Nur deutsch klingt es nicht, was sicher im Wesen von Sängerin Rubees True Fegans Heimat Albuquerque (New Mexico) begründet liegt, gleichsam aber in der Vielseitigkeit, die sich SMILE erlauben - und ihrer einhergehenden Virtuosität an den Instrumenten. SMILE versuchen sich dabei - einem Post-Punk britischer Machart folgend - durchaus in homogener Geradlinigkeit (Herrengedeck), lassen Kühle zu (Machine Dreaming) und folgen einem düsteren Ernst (Säge). Diese Facetten aber vermengen sich mit einer heiteren Experimentierfreude (Stalemate, Produce, Hungry Ghosts), mit Humor (Doohickey), mit verträumter Beschwingtheit (Commuter) und Genresprengender Pop-Af finität (Protection). So zeigt sich dieses stilsichere Album in einer Vielseitigkeit, die heute selten zu finden ist - und klingt trotzdem wie aus einem Guss. Auch die ersten drei Singles zeigen gut das Panorama, das SMILE mit ihrem Debut aufmachen: Dog In The Manger erinnert zunächst an Talk Talks Happiness Is Easy, wechselt aber nach dem Drum-Intro schnell die Spur. Der Opener der Platte stellt Rubee als Sängerin vor, die, trotz einer gewissen Gelassenheit in der Performance, von Wut und Traurigkeit getrieben ist. Der Text ist eine politische Reflexion, ausgelöst vom gekippten Abtreibungsrecht in den USA, das sich mit einer alten griechischen Fabel verbindet. So startet das Album mit einem Rätsel und offenbart, das Musik noch immer eine Waffe sein kann - aus Sound, Herz und Verstand. In Doohickey, einem der beschwingtesten Songs der Platte, kramt Rubee in ihrer Erinnerung, besucht ihre verstorbene Großmutter, eine unfreundliche alte Frau, die in ihrem Haus hortete, was sie fand. So entsteht eine Kurzgeschichte über die weirdest person alive und zeigt SMILE als Band, in der Text und Musik nicht konkurrieren, sondern stets Symbiose feiern. Zackig und temporeich wie das erzählte Leben kommen auch Gitarren und Rhythmussektion daher, finden zu einer soghaften Dynamik, ohne mit billigen Sing-alongs zu arbeiten. Protection, die dritte Single, ist wohl das eigensinnigste Stück der Platte, erzeugt, gesanglich pendelnd zwischen Blood Orange und Bands wie Siouxsie & The Banshees oder Bow Wow Wow, eine breite und intensive Palette, bringt einen The Fall-artigen Witz ein und wird zwischen den vermittelten Gefühlen zur Achterbahnfahrt. Das Stück schrieb Gitarrist Lars Fritzsche, mit dem Ziel, einen klassischen Hit zu schaffen (gelungen, wenn auch nicht klassisch!) - und schuf in der Offenheit des Songs dabei eine perfekte Fläche, die nun gleich mehrere Stimmen der Band versammelt. Im Zentrum: Rubee, die hier einen Text performt, der zwischen Traum und Cut-up ihren poetischen Glanz scheinen lässt. Die aus der Hüfte geschüttelte Dramaturgie ist dabei Paradebeispiel für die Innovation einer der spannendsten neuen Gitarrenbands, die nun auf dem Indielabel Siluh (Wien) eine Heimat zwischen Köln, Bonn und Albuquerque gefunden hat. Wahnsinn! (Hendrik Otremba)

ENG SMILE IS A POST-PUNK BAND WITH A SINGER, WHO PREFERS NOT TO SING. INSTEAD, SHE INTONES HER POETIC STORIES SPIKED WITH PERSONAL REFLECTIONS. With their excellent debut PRICE OF PROGRESS, SMILE light-footedly show that post punk can still sound refreshing in 2023. They don't take their references as dogma, remain experimental, stubborn. Narrative, catchy, rough and cuddly, the subtle, poetic observations of singer Rubee True Fegan (USA) merge with the accomplished sound of a band that producer Olaf Opal has put exactly where it belongs: on the starting block of innovative, clever and sensual guitar music. In PRICE OF PROGRESS, the interplay of musical Sturm und Drang and the maturity of a reflective narrative perspective manifests itself. Ltd pink vinyl LP!

The final U.S. show, a triumphant and blistering bookend to the storied career of one of the most influential bands in rock music, featuring a unique and expansive eighty-five minute set list that spans Sonic Youth’s nearly three decade catalog. Mixed from multitrack by longtime live engineer Aaron Mullan and mastered and cut by Carl Saff. On August 12, 2011 Sonic Youth played their final US show on an outdoor stage overlooking the East River at the Williamsburg Waterfront in Brooklyn. Fitting that their storied career would bookend with a panoramic view of New York City where it all began 30 years before, having left in their wake one of one of the most powerfully influential careers in rock music. Following incredible sets from Kurt Vile and Wild Flag, the band took the stage. As the sun went down over the city, Sonic Youth ripped through a 17 song set that spanned from deep cuts off their first studio album and highlighting many other albums all the way through to their last, like a band with everything to prove. Or as Brooklyn Vegan’s Andrew Sacher said at the time: “While most bands who are thirty years into their career are either fading away or living off of the nostalgia of their older material, Sonic Youth continue to sound and perform as fresh as ever.” Steve Shelley explains the uniquely career spanning set list of Live in Brooklyn 2011 and how it came to be, as well as the importance of outdoor NYC summer shows in Sonic Youth’s legacy: “This show was a culmination of a run of really special outdoor summertime shows in New York City for us, starting in ’92 with Summerstage in Central Park when we played with Sun Ra. For the Williamsburg Waterfront show I wrote out the set list to present to the band and it was a lot of material we hadn’t played in a while, a lot of deep cuts, so I wasn’t sure if everybody would feel like doing it. After worrying about which songs the band might say yes or no to, I threw those concerns out the window and I just made a list of songs that I thought would be a great set. We practiced the week of the show at our space in Hoboken and put the set together. First we’d try and make sure we had a guitar in the song’s tuning, then we’d try to remember the arrangement and try and put it together, sometimes re-learning bar by bar. In the end I think the whole song list made it through. Even as early as ’86 and ’87 we stopped playing ‘Death Valley 69’ and ‘Brave Men Run’ with any regularity. We’d just get excited about new material coming into the set and songs would get ‘retired’ and wouldn’t get played again for years. So on this particular night in Brooklyn a lot of those retired songs and deep cuts got dusted off and played for this show. It turned out to be a pretty special event with a really special song list.” The band would go on to fulfill a contracted festival run in South America a few months later but, by then, the group’s center was severed beyond repair and the festival appearances didn’t hold the same kind of weight. “The stage was facing the East River from the Williamsburg, Brooklyn waterfront, and I recall the sun going down in the west during our set. It was a pretty magical, if kinda weird day. Fitting, somehow, that our ‘last show’ should be in New York City, our home and where it all began…” Lee Ranaldo The Williamsburg Waterfront show would fondly become referred to as ‘The Last Show’ by fans and band alike, equally for its triumphant high energy performance, its unique and expansive set list and locale. Newly remixed and remastered, Live in Brooklyn 2011 is presented for the first time on 2xLP, 2Xcd, August 18, 2023.

DeYarmond Edison war der Vorläufer von Bon Iver und Megafaun. Im Sommer 2005 verließen vier Freunde Wisconsin in Richtung North Carolina mit einem einzigen Ziel: der Folk-Rock-Flaute zu entkommen. Während eines Jahres intensiver Konzentration, des Studiums und der Verletzlichkeit taten sie genau das, indem sie an den ekstatischen Rand des New Weird America vordrangen und von allem ein bisschen ausprobierten - Grindcore und Gospel, Free Jazz und Phasenstücke, Bluegrass und Blues - und es in DeYarmond Edison packten. Der Rest ist Geschichte_ Ein Mitglied ging nach Hause, um das zu gründen, was später Bon Iver werden sollte, während drei vor Ort blieben, um Megafaun zu gründen. Epoch ist die Geschichte von DeYarmond Edison: Brad Cook, Phil Cook, Justin Vernon und Joe Westerlund, erzählt wie nie zuvor. Die Sammlung umfasst fünf LPs, vier CDs, Dutzende von ungehörten Aufnahmen und ungesehene Fotos. Begleitet wird sie von einer ausführlichen Biografie des Schriftstellers Grayson Haver Currin, der auch als ausführender Produzent der Sammlung fungiert. Alles in allem fängt Epoch die Zeit ein, bevor aus diesen vier Freunden zwei andere, aufsehenerregende Bands wurden. Es ist eine Geschichte über Gemeinschaft, Visionen, Familie und ein Quartett, das zu gut sein wollte, um zu bestehen. Es gibt Momente des Experimentierens, subtile Wendungen im Fuzz von "Epoch" und eine stampfende Herangehensweise beim Covern von "All Tomorrow's Parties", die den Grundstein dafür legten, wie Bon Iver und Megafaun die akustische Musik ein wenig umkrempeln würden. Aber ein Großteil von Epoch unterstreicht die einzigartige Sichtweise der Gruppe auf amerikanisches Songwriting, auf das Nehmen von Patchworks, das Finden der Akkorde und das Singen aus vollem Herzen. "Trials, Troubles and Tribulations" ist ein Beispiel dafür. Am bekanntesten ist es als Duett von Justin Vernon und Sharon Van Etten, das hier in ausufernder Last-Waltz-Manier wieder zum Leben erweckt wird, mit Vocals von Megafaun, Justin Vernon, Frazy Ford und Fight the Big Bull. Jede Platte ist gleichermaßen ein Crash-Kurs in allem, was dieses spezielle Stück Musikgeschichte ausmacht: Fotos aus Hinterhöfen und Kellern; Essays, die bestimmte Aufnahmen beschreiben; Farbpaletten, die Zeit und Ort widerspiegeln. Mit über sieben Stunden und 55.000 Wörtern ist Epoch eine maximalistische Sammlung. Aber man muss kein Komplettist sein, um zu verstehen, was es bedeutet, sich mit seinen besten Freunden zusammenzukauern und Dinge zu erschaffen, für diese Dinge zu träumen, zu lernen, zu kämpfen und zu wachsen.

The collaboration between Klara Lewis and Nik Colk Void somehow seemed inevitable. Both artists having seen their releases published by Editions Mego, individually carving out idiosyncratic voices in the worlds of extreme, abstract electronic music. With Full-On, Lewis and Void explore and assimilate the very edge of their individual practice where a unique collaborative interface allows two voices to combine and morph into a third voice.


Lewis and Void play ping pong with the conversation of sounds, generating ideas and bouncing them off each other, simultaneously encouraging the other to go further with their ideas opening up an opportunity to engage with previously unexplored terrain. Guitars, synths, euro rack modular systems, voice, sampling and outboard processing are folded in a playful unification with a propensity to tease, explore and extract new ideas and shapes, sometimes brutal, sometimes playful.

Trust was also a compositional tool allowing instinct to freely move on any aspect of the sound and space. This sound/feeling/instinct/association let this wild and wonderful material grow organically into something new.

The result of this exploratory interplay are 17 intense miniatures reveling in the process of unadulterated experimentation and whimsical interplay, not just between the humans, but the machines themselves. United in an endless series of sonic U-turns, this daring duo intertwine pop and noise whilst also bringing together visions of tender techno and forthright ambient.

The various zones which manifest from all this reveals vocals shifting in mysterious ways, dust drenched beats churning limpidly and devilish string loops navigating a disorientating domain. The experience of listening to Full-On is to be confronted with a range of ideas resulting in a platter of emotions. A place where beauty and the beast collide with the impulsive and outright weird. What a wonderful world.

Night shifting patiently, slowly drifting in constant flux. Where Ancient Plastix’ debut used rhythm to create geometrical sound architectures and craft elaborate mazes, his new offering ‘II’ glides effortlessly, combining incredibly rich textures with soft swan-like strokes, oscillating gently, an unhurried pace that combines the depth of Japanese ambient maestros and the choppy British mist.

Liverpool producer Paul Rafferty aka Ancient Plastix, recorded ‘II’ straight to cassette with a number of different synths (Yamaha Reface, Korg MS20) and keyboards (90s casio and 70s Gem organ) via a collection of guitar pedals, outboard (Roland Space Echo, Melos delay, spring reverb). His tape machine this time was a Japanese Sansui from the 90s, a strange 6 track machine with a pleasing fidelity bought off from an old rave dad who was finally giving up the ghost.

“Musically, this album is more patient in its approach to the predecessor. Recorded towards the end of lockdown in my highstreet basement below a used record shop, the arrangements reflect the personal era. No responsibility, no reasons to adhere to the previous patterns in my music making. As a result the album is a patient trawl through new discoveries and possibilities presented by improvising with old technology.”

There is a widescreen grandeur that permeates Ancient Plastix’ production, a cinematic instinct that steers clear of crescendos by creating paths that revel in warmth and emotion. Flotsam & jetsam, instinct, burnout, heartbreak.

Mit dem 2008 erschienenen Album „Gumbo“ fiel der Startschuss für Brenk Sinatras interna-tionale Producerlaufbahn. Vom JUICE Magazin zu einem der Top 20 besten Instrumentalalbenaller Zeiten gewählt, schaffte „Gumbo“ mit seinen brachialen und zugleich sehr souligen,sample-basierten Instrumentals den Sprung raus aus Österreich und rückte Brenk als Aus-nahmeproducer erstmals in den Fokus.Der Nachfolger„Gumbo II“erschien 2011 über das Kölner Label MPM, das mit Brenk Sinatra so-wie weiteren Ausnahmeproducern an Bord den wachsenden Hype um instrumentalen Hip-Hopmitzündete. Brenks kompromissloser, zweiter Part der Gumbo-Reihe katapultierte ihn kurzer-hand in die Riege der gefragtesten Beat-Produzenten Europas. Seither war auch der dritte undfinale Teil der Gumbo-Reihe in Planung, jedoch hinderten die immer mehr werdenden musi-kalischen Projekte und nicht zuletzt auch der Druck, die ersten beiden Albumteile zu toppen,Brenk an der Fertigstellung seiner Instrumental-Trilogie. Der Folder mit den dafür selektiertenInstrumentals wuchs auf weit über 100 Beats, wurde teilweise gelöscht und ständig in seinerZusammenstellung verändert, bis Brenk das gezielte Sammeln von Gumbo-Material 2017 vor-erst einstellte. Damals vollzog Brenk einen stilistischen Wechsel, der ihn weg von klassischen,Samplebasierten Beats hin zu jenen entspannten Trap-Hybriden führte, die heute als seinTrademark-Sound bekannt sind. Auch wollte sich das Mindset für die Fertigstellung von „Gum-bo III“ nicht einstellen und andere Projekte wurden vorgezogen, bis das Album komplett in denHintergrund rückte. Über die Jahre wurden Fans und Journalist*innen auf die Frage nach einemRelease Date immer wieder von Brenk vertröstet, „Gumbo III“ wurde zu einem sehnsüchtigerwarteten Phantomprojekt.

Fast Forward in das Jahr 2021: erstmals seit vier Jahren klickt sich Brenk wieder durch den Folder mit den einst für die „Gumbo III“ produzierten Interludes, musikalischen Skizzen undbereits fertiggestellten Beats. Mit einer neuen Label- und Verlagssituation im Hintergrund(2021 gründete Brenk das MusiklabelWave Planet Recordssowie den dazugehörigen VerlagWave Planet Publishing) fällt er den Entschluss, dass die Zeit für den Abschluss der Gumbo-Trilogie nun reif ist und Wave Planet Records zur neuen Heimat dieses Projekts werden muss.Danach folgt eine wochenlange und mühselige Wiederherstellung der in den Jahren 2012 bis2016 produzierten Instrumentals. Brenks Hauptaugenmerk war es, den musikalischen Spiritder Instrumentals unverändert zu lassen und den Sound nicht zu modernisieren. Aus heutigerSicht klingt das mit unzähligen Vinyl-Samples gespickte Chop-Gewitter auf der „Gumbo III“wie man es von Brenks früheren Beats kennt, anachronistisch und gerade dadurch erfrischendanders. Als einziges Update für die „Gumbo III“ Instrumentals wurden lediglich ein neuesMixing von Brenk sowie das Mastering seines hochkarätigen Producer-Kollegen Dexter zu-gelassen.Für die perfekte visuelle Ergänzung des Gumbo-Sounduniversums sorgt das verspielte, vorDetails strotzende Cover-Artwork von Cone The Weird, der bereits das markante Artwork zum„Gumbo II“ Album lieferte.Die Vollendung der Trilogie wird unter anderem mit einer ganz besonderen „Gumbo TrilogyBox“ zelebriert, die im Oktober 2022 erscheinen und das Herz jedes passionierten Sammlershöherschlagen lässt

Regal Worm release Worm!, the fizzy, dizzy follow up to 2021's The Hideous Goblink. It’s hard to believe that it’s been nearly a decade since Regal Worm first emerged from the mud. And what a long segmented body of work it has been with no less than five albums under its clitellum! (look it up, it’s not a rude word). With a small bag of heavy friends, Varrod Goblink continues to create astonishing music in his very own loft laboratory. Crammed with a growing number of vintage, dusty instruments, clean vintage instruments, computer tech foolery and weird looking banks of machines festooned with twiddly knobs, a visitor might wonder if they’d accidentally wandered into some sort of TARDIS.

Waterloo Teeth is true demonstration of Sugar Horse's refusal to conform or sit still. A community-building, genre-hopping release, the EP sees Sugar Horse letting the good times roll. Recorded during the Christmas break at Small Pond studios, sleeping among the amps, the four-track record is the Bristol group's excuse to work with some of the coolest musicians on the planet.

“A weird and jagged record for weird and jagged times.” – The Quietus
"A sucker punch of sludge-punk"
"Bold, charismatic, and nuanced.” – Everything Is Noise
“An extraordinary act” – Noizze
“Expertly balance filth and ambience” – Metal Hammer 7/10
“SUGAR HORSE are definitely a band to look out for.” – Distorted Sound Mag
“they truly deserve to be massive.” – Echoes And Dust

Alexandra Sauser-Monnig and Amelia Meath have been yodeling together for upwards of fifteen years – in the backseat of a Prius while on their first cross-country tour, on back porches and backstages. It’s what led them to Fruit, their debut release as The A’s – a joyous ten-song collection spanning genre and decades, with interpretations of traditionals, lullabies, and an original song, it weaves between the weird and the wonderful. “Why I’m Grieving,” originally recorded by the DeZurik Sisters, was the inspiration for the A’s existence. The A’s reach into the past to hold hands with the DeZurik Sisters, two farm girls from rural Minnesota who taught themselves to yodel amongst all their animals, in a continuing celebration of the tradition of folk eccentricity and whimsy. The A’s played their first show together in 2013 after Sauser-Monnig first moved to North Carolina, where Meath had been living at the time, but it wasn’t until summer 2021 that they thought seriously about making Fruit. They decamped to Sylvan Esso’s Chapel Hill studio, Betty’s, for two weeks in the midst of a balmy and blooming Carolinian summer. They rehearsed during the day, deconstructing yodeling parts phonetically and staring absurdly into each other’s eyes as they practiced tongue twisting harmonies - and recorded in the nighttime, candles lit, a flickering glow against the windows framing the violet twilight outside. “There was a lot of giggling during the session,” Sauser-Monnig explains. “At one point I was getting a tangle out of my hair and was like, oh, my God, that sounds really cool – the sound of my hands in my hair. And then I thought, what if we recorded hair for a percussion track? And then it just sort of snowballed.” Across the record, the A’s employ a bizarre-o ghost orchestra of strange noises that are percussive and melodic. The credits include nylon shorts, string (singular), hair, shoes, ice chunk, gravel, frog sample, and shoelace, among other unexpected makeshift instrumentation. The backing band is built out by a more traditional group of players: saxophone from Sam Gendel on “Copper Kettle,” backing vocals from Jenn Wasner (Flock of Dimes, Wye Oak) on “When I Die,” string arrangements from Gabriel Kahane on “He Needs Me,” and more. Fruit is made up simply of songs the A’s love to sing – there are lullabies and love songs; “He Needs Me,” written by Harry Nilsson and first released by Shelley Duvall in the 1980 Popeye film; traditional ballads like “Swing and Turn Jubilee,” “Copper Kettle” and closer “Buckeye Jim,” a multiplying song about frogs and nature. The sole original track to appear on the album is the penultimate “When I Die,” written by Meath. It contains both wishes and instructions for the celebration of her death, a low synth bubbling beneath Sauser-Monnig and Meath’s voices. It’s a collection of ten seemingly incongruous songs, but with the throughline of Sauser-Monnig and Meath’s vocals and sense of humor working in tandem, they fit together into a cosmic yodeling-folk masterpiece. Fruit feels like blowing the dust off a precious artifact of decades past, but also winking and modern. Sauser-Monnig sums up their ethos on the project succinctly: “If it doesn’t make you cackle or cry, it doesn’t belong.”