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THIS IS NOT A REISSUE. THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THIS AMAZING MINIMAL SCORE HAS BEEN ISSUED ON VINYL

This is the first time the complete score to The Conversation has been released on vinyl. The film itself was originally released in 1974 and a 7' demo of the theme was sent out as promotional material by Paramount (PAA-0305), but a USA stock edition was never issued. In Japan the same music was also issued on a 7' at about the same time (JET-2273), with a picture sleeve, but until now nothing else has ever been pressed on vinyl.

Jonny Trunk's little obsession with this music began after I'd caught the film, late night, sometime in the mid 1990s. Musically it's an exceptional example of the 'new minimalism' in film music of the period, marking a departure (for some) from big scores to smaller, more economic ensemble sounds.

The film was written, produced and directed by Francis Ford Coppola and is still a thrilling journey into sound, mind and murder. Heavily influenced by Antonioni's Blow-Up (and not, as some thought, by Watergate), Coppola wanted to fuse the concept of Blow-Up with 'the world of audio surveillance'. The story centres around Harry Caul (Gene Hackman), a mac-wearing professional wire-tapper and clandestine bugger who gets unusually consumed by a conversation he's been paid to record. Caul is a loner, an obsessive-compulsive character with numerous neuroses that play out brilliantly throughout the film. And as he slowly pieces together the conversation fragments and forms his own story around it, his world falls apart.

Sonically this movie - all about sound - is groundbreaking in many ways, with actual 'sound Design' Provided By The Legendary Walter Murch - The Man Who Actually Invented The Term In The First Place.

For The Music, Coppola Wisely Chose A Young David Shire, His Brother In Law. Shire's Deceptively Simple Piano Theme (composed Because Of No Budget For Big Orchestra) Is One Of Tragic Beauty, Brilliantly Capturing Caul's Loneliness, His Slightly Disturbed Nature And This Trip Into Darkness. The Melody Has Both Sweet And Sour Tones, Feeling A Little Like A Slow Ragtime, Which Both Develops And Retreats Throughout The Film; There Are Even Trips Into Avant-garde Territory With Electro-acoustic Flourishes And Concrète. The Solo, Agitated Figure Of Caul, Wearing His Distinctive Transparent Mac, Is Made All The More Raw And Poignant By The Score - The Sparse And Curiously Emotional Compositions Are Unlike Any Others I Can Think Of From The Period.

The Soundtrack For The Conversation Proved To Be A Major Break For Shire, His Career Really Taking Off From This Musical Point. His Next Score Was To Be The Underground Classic Taking Of Pelham 123, Followed Up Later Ironically By All The Presidents Men - A Thriller About The Watergate Scandal.

The Conversation Went On To Win Several Awards And Nominations, And Has Become A Classic Of The 'new Hollywood' Movement. Hopefully Now This Music May Become Part Of The Renewed Interest In Old Film Soundtracks.

A great, self-contained, soul music collective that never got their just due because of a spurious tax scam that was prevalent in the record industry in the early to mid 1970”s - the group known as Spice, and their 1976 LP ‘Let Their Be Pice”, remained in obscurity without members of the band even knowing that it was ever released until nearly 30 years after the fact. Now, thanks to the sharp ears of his internet savvy aging motherland subsequent interviews with Spice”s leader Richard Brown Jr. - the full story of who this almost forgotten band was, and what happened to them and why, is finally revealed. Whatever transpired business wise should not obscure the quality of the music that resulted in the recording of this album. The performances are impeccable, the musicianship is top-notch, and the original songs in retrospect, were way ahead of their time. As a special treat for rare soul music lovers, this long-lost LP has been newly remastered for this exclusive release.

For their first album as Gilla Band (formerly Girl Band), the
foursome have redrawn their own paradigm. ‘Most Normal’ is like
little you’ve heard before, a kaleidoscopic spectrum of noise put in
service of broken pop songs, FX-strafed Avant-punk rollercoaster
rides and passages of futurist dancefloor nihilism.
Lockdown robbed Gilla Band of any opportunity to try the new
material out live, but the pandemic also incinerated any idea of a
deadline for the new album. They were free to tinker at leisure, to
rewrite and restructure and reinvent tracks they’d cut, to, as
drummer Adam Faulkner puts it, “pull things apart and be like,
‘Let’s try this. We could try out every wild idea.’”
The group also fell under the spell of modern hip-hop, “where
there’s really heavy-handed production and they’re messing with
the track the whole time,” says Fox. “That felt like a fun route to go
down, it was a definite influence.”
‘Most Normal’ opens with an absolute industrial-noise banger that
sounds like a manic house party throbbing through the walls of the
next room as a downed jetliner brings death from above. What
follows is unpredictable, leading the listener through a sonic house
of mirrors, where the unexpected awaits around every corner.
The common thread holding ‘Most Normal’’s ambitious Avant-pop
shapes together is frontman Dara Kiely. Throughout, he’s an antic,
antagonistic presence, barking wild, hilarious, unsettling spiels,
babbling about smearing fish with lubricant or dressing up in binliners or having to wear hand-me-down bootcut jeans (“It was a
big, shameful thing, growing up, not being able to afford the look I
wanted and having to wear all my brother’s old clothes,” says
Kiely).
‘Most Normal’, then, is a triumph, the bold work of a group who’ve
taken the time to evolve their ideas, to deconstruct and reconstruct
their music and rebuild it into something new, something
challenging and infinitely rewarding. It’s a headphone masterpiece.
It’s a majestic exploration of the infinite possibilities of noise. It’s a
bold riposte to your parochial beliefs on whatever a pop song can
or should be. It’s the best work these musicians have put to
(mangled) tape.

For their first album as Gilla Band (formerly Girl Band), the
foursome have redrawn their own paradigm. ‘Most Normal’ is like
little you’ve heard before, a kaleidoscopic spectrum of noise put in
service of broken pop songs, FX-strafed Avant-punk rollercoaster
rides and passages of futurist dancefloor nihilism.
Lockdown robbed Gilla Band of any opportunity to try the new
material out live, but the pandemic also incinerated any idea of a
deadline for the new album. They were free to tinker at leisure, to
rewrite and restructure and reinvent tracks they’d cut, to, as
drummer Adam Faulkner puts it, “pull things apart and be like,
‘Let’s try this. We could try out every wild idea.’”
The group also fell under the spell of modern hip-hop, “where
there’s really heavy-handed production and they’re messing with
the track the whole time,” says Fox. “That felt like a fun route to go
down, it was a definite influence.”
‘Most Normal’ opens with an absolute industrial-noise banger that
sounds like a manic house party throbbing through the walls of the
next room as a downed jetliner brings death from above. What
follows is unpredictable, leading the listener through a sonic house
of mirrors, where the unexpected awaits around every corner.
The common thread holding ‘Most Normal’’s ambitious Avant-pop
shapes together is frontman Dara Kiely. Throughout, he’s an antic,
antagonistic presence, barking wild, hilarious, unsettling spiels,
babbling about smearing fish with lubricant or dressing up in binliners or having to wear hand-me-down bootcut jeans (“It was a
big, shameful thing, growing up, not being able to afford the look I
wanted and having to wear all my brother’s old clothes,” says
Kiely).
‘Most Normal’, then, is a triumph, the bold work of a group who’ve
taken the time to evolve their ideas, to deconstruct and reconstruct
their music and rebuild it into something new, something
challenging and infinitely rewarding. It’s a headphone masterpiece.
It’s a majestic exploration of the infinite possibilities of noise. It’s a
bold riposte to your parochial beliefs on whatever a pop song can
or should be. It’s the best work these musicians have put to
(mangled) tape.

Rocksteady took over Orange Street ,Kingston, Jamaica around 1966,the same time that an extreme heat wave hit the Jamaican Island.
Some say the previous jerky Ska Rhythms proved too strenuous of an activity to partake in during the all night Sound Systems.
So it proved a winning formula to slow the beat down to a more leisurely pace.

Whatever the reasons were this two year period that ran until 1968 would see some of the power escape from the big three producers,Clement 'Coxonne 'Dodd,Prince Buster and Duke Reid...who up to that period ruled the airwaves. It was time to make room for a new wave of up and coming producers that also had something to offer the people.

So sit back and enjoy some Rocksteady straight from the dances of Jamaica...Hope you enjoy the set...............

August Greene culminates years of mutual respect and friendship, channeling the musicians’ various talents into a cohesive project. The perfect marriage of jazz, hip-hop and soul, it’s music that just is. This is black expression the way God intended: earnest, unfiltered, and harmonious. Throughout August Greene, you feel the abundance of Glasper’s rolling keys, the sheer honesty of Com’s lyrics, and the nuanced subtlety of Riggins’ drum work. It’s a fluid sound that’s sorely needed in today’s landscape, and a teachable moment for the next wave of creators. “I feel like we need to set the bar for this generation of musicians and producers,” Riggins says. “There’s a lot of computer-driven music. This is the opposite of that. We’re showing you can still use your creative muscle on an instrument to generate your own sound.” August Greene is a meditative offering that stands tall against the era of “fake news.” “They body snatching black girls in D.C. / Politics and propaganda on the TV,” Common observes on the opening track. On “Nirvana,” the lyricist uses a stuttering percussive loop and faint piano chords to search his inner being: “Thought I was gonna fly when Obama became the king … when it’s all done, will I have heaven’s dress code, and been able to let God and let go.” As Com puts it, Glasper and Riggins’ soundtrack allowed him to open up in ways he hadn’t done previously. Like on “Fly Away,” for instance, where he riffs on the public relationships he’s had. Other songs, like “Black Kennedy,” feel spacious and scenic. “I got to go new places with the music, and it didn’t have to fit within a genre for me to participate on it,” he says. “This gave me an experience I haven’t had in a long time, so I want people to feel that. I want this to be a cleansing of whatever doesn’t feel good or inspiring.” In the end, August Greene speaks to those pushing through the dark for brighter days. It's a masterpiece from which virtue can shine. “I want people to go on the ride and be open,” Glasper says. “We just created and it became a sound. I want people to approach this with an open mind and without expectations.” —Marcus J. Moore

Shooting Daggers are a band that never seems to stop. Sal, Bea and Raquel are one of the hardest working outfits out there, constantly playing shows and lending their support to myriad causes all around the U.K. and Europe. So, it’s always an exciting prospect when the band takes some time out from the maelstrom to write and record new material. And 2 years on from the release of their acclaimed debut album ‘Love & Rage’ the band have been in Bear Bites Horse Studio with Wayne Adams (Big Lad, Green Lung) at the controls to come up with the goods once again. ‘The Real Life Thing’ is the latest hardcore sonic missive from one of London’s must-see bands, and it absolutely does not disappoint. Shooting Daggers are the real deal; the best, and most exciting and adventurous hardcore-inspired band in the country. A ‘mini album‘. 7 songs and 20 minutes of driving rocket fuelled punk meets melody picking up from their debut to go further into their own space. A selection of songs that are marked by a fierce energy, variety and cool musical nous, but always with a message firmly at its core. The band says … ‘It's a crucial time to focus on what really matters. Be present, be aware of real things happening in the world, with integrity and love we can make a difference as a community. There is hope out there, and if we all start treating nature, people and animals with respect and empathy we will be able to become better humans and coexist. In this mini album, we express the full range of our emotions through various sounds and genres. From cheerfulness to anger and hopefulness.

From hardcore punk, to shoegaze, to post hardcore and riot grrrl. We embrace our authentic self, with sensitivity in response to injustice, we act out, and all the while savouring every moment, being unapologetically yourself, empowering ourselves and each other’. With the help of some very special guests in the form of ‘The Menstrual Cramps' and Dennis Lyxzén from Refused, that message is driven home ‘big time’. ‘Adrenaline’ is as full on and heavy as Daggers have ever been, all buzzsaw riffs and rousing vocals, it’s a smart and catchy punch in the face to kick off proceedings. ‘My Oh My’ sweetens the vibe if only a bit with its layered post shoegaze guitars and anthemic vocals, exquisitely arranged we may add. It really shows how Daggers have taken the 90’s elements from Love & Rage and expanded it into something all their own. ‘T.R.L.T.’ back to ‘in yer face’ Daggers trademark off kilter punk, chants, fast bit, slow bits all straight into your head. ‘We just Wanna Play’ is, as Daggers put it ... ‘Empowering playground song for girls and queers to sing and play’. The perfect intro to … ‘Loud Mouths’ the first track to feature bestie guesties ‘The Menstrual Cramps’. A riotous call to arms. We are united with our sisters and queer folks in punk and hardcore, queercore is strong and more alive than ever. Together we will denounce problematic behaviours unapologetically, we won't shut up. Things must change and it’s happening when problems are pointed out and sorted. The scene is for everybody, and we are making it happen’. ‘Le Soleil’ is another step forward … a left field, almost dubby vibe with a dreamy melodic swirling vocal performance from Sal.

When Daggers decide to step outside the box, they do it seductively in style. ‘Glow’ is the second collaboration; this one featuring Dennis Lyxzén from Refused on dual vocal duties. A no brainer it seems … ‘Refused has been a band that never wanted to fit in with a specific sound, they are pioneers of experimental punk while still being rooted in hardcore. They believe in what we believe in, antifascism, veganism, social justice and Dennis on stage is anything but a generic hardcore singer’. It’s a celebration. It’s fuzzy, it's hooky and it’s heavy with, dare we say it, a bit of My Bloody Valentine in there too, generic hardcore it is not. And that pretty much sums up ‘The Real Life Thing’. This album and this band are anything but ‘generic’. They never stand still and continue to push the boundaries of what is ‘hardcore’ or ‘punk’ or whatever people think they are. T.R.L.T. is a delight and a surprise from start to finish, refreshing, abrasive, melodic and with a true beating heart. Embrace it.

BABY BLUE COLOUR VINYL

The Beths occupy a warm, energetic sonic space between joyful hooks, sun-soaked harmonies, and acerbic lyrics. Their debut album Future Me Hates Me, forthcoming on Carpark Records, delivers an astonishment of roadtrip-ready pleasures, each song hitting your ears with an exhilarating endorphin rush like the first time you heard Slanted and Enchanted or 'Cannonball.'

Front and center on these ten infectious tracks is lead singer and primary songwriter Elizabeth Stokes. Stokes has previously worked in other genres within Auckland's rich and varied music scene, recently playing in a folk outfit, but it was in exploring the angst-ridden sounds of her youth that she found her place. 'Fronting this kind of band was a new experience for me,' says Stokes. 'I never thought I had the right voice for it.'

From the irresistible title track to future singles 'Happy Unhappy' and 'You Wouldn't Like Me,' Stokes commands a vocal range that spans from the brash confidence of Joan Jett to the disarming vulnerability of Jenny Lewis. Further honeying Future Me Hates Me's dark lyrics that explore complex topics like being newly alone and the self-defeating anticipation of impending regret, ecstatic vocal harmonies bubble up like in the greatest pop and R+B of the '60s, while inverting the trope of the 'sad dude singer accompanied by a homogenous girl-sound.'

All four members of The Beths studied jazz at university, resulting in a toolkit of deft instrumental chops and tricked-out arrangements that operate on a level rarely found in guitar-pop. Beths guitarist and studio guru Jonathan Pearce (whose other acts as producer include recent Captured Tracks signing Wax Chattels) brings it all home with an approach that's equal parts seasoned perfectionist and D.I.Y.

'There's a lot of sad sincerity in the lyrics,' she continues, 'that relies on the music having a light heart and sense of humor to keep it from being too earnest.' Channeling their stew of personal-canon heroes while drawing inspiration from contemporaries like Alvvays and Courtney Barnett, The Beths serve up deeply emotional lyrics packaged within heavenly sounds that delight in probing the limits of the pop form. 'That's another New Zealand thing,' Stokes concludes with a laugh. 'We're putting our hearts on our sleeves—and then apologizing for it.'

West Mineral returns with lushly amorphous actions by Shiner, Pontiac Streator & Ben Bondy aka Shinetiac; together fused for an immersive flux of vapoured dub, chopped and droned Billie Eilish, and fidgety algorithmic jams.

There's not a single, specific sound you can peg to the West Mineral axis at this stage in the label’s evolution - it's rather a set of shared aesthetics that freely bend into various interconnected shapes. Shinetiac's contemptuous, critic-baiting gear is the ideal example; on their last album, 2023's 'Not All Who Wander Are Lost', skittery, ketamized IDM sparkled over Spice Girls samples and the Foo Fighters' 'Everlong' was transmuted into Sneaker Pimps-style trip-hop. 'Infiltrating Roku City' might be a little less blatant with its out-and-out poptimism, but it takes a similarly dim view of conservative "big ambient" snobbishness. Just a few minutes of 'Bluemosa' should be enough to let you know what's up; the overall character of the sound is hazed, with frozen pads and garbled, dubbed-out voices smudged into a mess of effects and samples. But it sups up different nuances as it wriggles, absorbing scampering breaks, dizzy acoustic guitar strums and half-heard wordless vocals, flipping in the third act to emerge from its shell as minimalist balearic folk-pop - something like Bon Iver doing 'Electric Counterpoint'.

Brooklyn's Shiner, Philly's Pontiac Streator and Berlin-based Ben Bondy navigate the labyrinthine streaming landscape, guided by their own private experiences of mindless doom-scrolling and cruising the darkest corners of YouTube. They formulated 'Infiltrating Roku City' while they were rehearsing last year and spent the winter stitching together various recordings and jams into a layered, dry-witted commentary on our algorithmic reality. Laden with inside jokes and refried memes, it's surprisingly elegant gear; handling the most unseemly elements like sonic recyclers, earnestly repurposing pop and nostalgia to create an atmospheric echo of contemporary reality.

Screwing Chief Keef's enduring 'Citgo', 'Clublyfe (hulu)' emphasises the original's AFX-pilled euphoria with Robert Miles-style piano hits, replacing Young Ravisu's brittle 128kbps trap rhythm with a glitchy rattle that picks up dembow spikes as it rolls. 'I Hate Being Sober' vaporises the Chicago drill pioneer's 'Hate Bein' Sober', blocking out his voice with glitchy, downsampled interference and elasticated Rhodes. The trio team up with Orange Milk's goo age on the sublime 'Crisis Angel', catching a ray of Malibu's sunshine in the process, and reduce Billie Eilish's voice to a Romance-does-Celine cinder on 'Billie', stretching it to fit next to gassed Future ad-libs and swooping 808 Mafia sub womps. And although the album takes a murky diversion on 'Roku Axes Ultra’, and a cloud-stepping centrepiece ‘Purelink’ in homage to the eponymous dubbed ambient dynamos, it's back on course with 'Jiafei (NETFLIX)', taking aim at TikTok bot videos and welding screams from Florida metal band Underoath to AI-strength vocal curlicues.

Includes smash-hit singles "Boys & Girls" "To Be," and "appears"
This smash hit, which catapulted Ayumi Hamasaki to the darling of the era, along with the accompanying single "appears" drew attention for its shocking
cover art, earning it the nickname "white ayu" and "black ayu." A shining milestone in the history of J-pop.

Patami isn't a judo mat, an animal defense association or a kind of sausage. Patami is a concept unique to each individual and, above all, unique to singer Stanislas. Patami is a friend to all children. He's at their service, but he's also their king. For the audience, it's whatever they want it to be, as long as it's comforting! Patami is Astéréotypie's third album, an extraordinary musical adventure featuring post- punk, noise and electro sounds. There are also some lovely melodies. Patami will shake your heart with the myths, memories, concepts and rants of the four star MCs: Claire, Stan, Yohann and Aurélien, the greatest songwriters of the moment (a few guests are also expected)! In short, Patami is like nothing you've ever heard before, and what's more, it's a real comfort. Their previous record, Aucun mec ne ressemble à Brad Pitt dans la Drôme, released in the spring of 2022, was warmly received by the public and achieved great critical success. Since then, Astéréotypie has been playing headline shows and festivals all over France. The band's singularity has left its mark. After 10 years of existence, the collective has finally found its audience.

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

BABY BLUE COLOUR VINYL

The Beths occupy a warm, energetic sonic space between joyful hooks, sun-soaked harmonies, and acerbic lyrics. Their debut album Future Me Hates Me, forthcoming on Carpark Records, delivers an astonishment of roadtrip-ready pleasures, each song hitting your ears with an exhilarating endorphin rush like the first time you heard Slanted and Enchanted or 'Cannonball.'

Front and center on these ten infectious tracks is lead singer and primary songwriter Elizabeth Stokes. Stokes has previously worked in other genres within Auckland's rich and varied music scene, recently playing in a folk outfit, but it was in exploring the angst-ridden sounds of her youth that she found her place. 'Fronting this kind of band was a new experience for me,' says Stokes. 'I never thought I had the right voice for it.'

From the irresistible title track to future singles 'Happy Unhappy' and 'You Wouldn't Like Me,' Stokes commands a vocal range that spans from the brash confidence of Joan Jett to the disarming vulnerability of Jenny Lewis. Further honeying Future Me Hates Me's dark lyrics that explore complex topics like being newly alone and the self-defeating anticipation of impending regret, ecstatic vocal harmonies bubble up like in the greatest pop and R+B of the '60s, while inverting the trope of the 'sad dude singer accompanied by a homogenous girl-sound.'

All four members of The Beths studied jazz at university, resulting in a toolkit of deft instrumental chops and tricked-out arrangements that operate on a level rarely found in guitar-pop. Beths guitarist and studio guru Jonathan Pearce (whose other acts as producer include recent Captured Tracks signing Wax Chattels) brings it all home with an approach that's equal parts seasoned perfectionist and D.I.Y.

'There's a lot of sad sincerity in the lyrics,' she continues, 'that relies on the music having a light heart and sense of humor to keep it from being too earnest.' Channeling their stew of personal-canon heroes while drawing inspiration from contemporaries like Alvvays and Courtney Barnett, The Beths serve up deeply emotional lyrics packaged within heavenly sounds that delight in probing the limits of the pop form. 'That's another New Zealand thing,' Stokes concludes with a laugh. 'We're putting our hearts on our sleeves—and then apologizing for it.'

Girl groups have come and gone over the years, but the Crystals’ name, along with the Ronettes, has become synonymous with the groundbreaking early-Sixties wave promoted by producer Phil Spector. As well as including some of their early recordings, the songs featured here on this 180g Vinyl set retain their period charm thanks to what one critic called the Crystals’ ‘sweet-butstreetwise vocal magic.’ File the music under Brill Building, GirlGroup Pop or whatever you choose, it wears its half a century of history lightly

Bad news: Not much is known about pdqb, and what we do know is most likely either wrong or made up. The man who is credited for the productions is said to have gone insane due to being possessed by an alien parasite. His whereabouts remain unknown. Good news: Fortunately, Synaptic Cliffs owns about a dozen releases from whoever or whatever is behind the mysterious abbreviation and will publish every single one of them…because they are ultra awesome.

With the original tapes of this Mini-LP, pdqb left a fragmented note in the '90s stating that he decoded eight tracks originally produced with the NCO6.27 for test subjects who were all given some strange form of brain implants, and that a certain wetware could be unveiled in that manner, and that he conducted that research long before he developed a machine capable of hacking into the dreams of everyone who has ever lived.

However, the music could best be described as playful and dark, old-school Techno/Electro/Industrial blended with Chiptunes, IDM/Braindance, and Electronica. It is pressed on a beautiful green splatter vinyl.

The first 150 customers will be rewarded with a free leftover flexi disc from the '80s featuring two exclusive tracks composed by pdqb while he worked for Silvio Berlusconi's Mediaset TV production company. The flexi was originally included in the November 1985 issue of the Italian Playboy Magazine (cover girl: Grace Jones) and is extremely sought after.

A longtime banner carrier for fiercely independent DIY punk in the UK, Wonk Unit are teaming with Pirates Press Records to release their ninth studio LP, Good Good Glad To Hear It. Based in the South London town of Croydon, the band has its origins in lead singer, songwriter, & guitarist Alex Wonk's experience in rehab 25 years ago, where he found journaling & sharing his experience with others liberating. After completing his time in hospital, Alex set about crafting songs from his "addiction journals," and from this sharing of unvarnished honesty, Wonk Unit was born. The 12 songs on Good Good Glad To Hear It are the diverse fruits of a long term process of songwriting and collaboration that takes the listener on an emotional journey. "These songs need to be written. They all had, for whatever reason, a burning desire to be released from my head," says Alex, who estimates that more than half of the vocals, guitars, and keys on the finished product were recorded as voice notes using nothing more than his cell phone mic. Aside from "EQ magic" courtesy of long term engineer & co-producer Andy Brook, there is no studio trickery to hide behind, and what appears on the record are the raw takes as played by Alex and his bandmates Vez, Max, Pwosion, Ryan, and AJ, as well as a group of studio collaborators adding instrumentation such as keys, horns, and banjo.The confessional spirit & emotional honesty of the songwriting shines through in every song on the record, such as the opening track & lead single, a "sad, depressing song about addiction" titled "Rapidly Declining Dignity," which recalls Alex's journals, or the song "Overwhelmed," in which the songwriter turns his focus to his relationship with his daughter in the aftermath of his marriage falling apart. "Those were the saddest, most precious, painful, terrifying times of my life," he shares, before adding, "Things are good now." Ultimately, these songs could only be written by someone who survived to tell the story. Just as journaling and sharing with others in rehab helped Alex to get sober and see a way through to the next stage of life, sharing songs that speak the truth of his experiences with the band's audience continues to carry him through life's ongoing struggles. Consequently, the band has attracted a large and diverse group of devoted fans who immediately recognize that these are true stories of resilience that can serve as a touchstone in their own lives. The true stories on Good Good Glad To Hear It are certain to find their way to even more.

M_Sessions - Reworks is offering a contemporary version of Mania D., Malaria and Matador’s music for the 40th anniversary. Bringing the past into the now and into the future.
Monika Werkstatt seemed the perfect choice for new interpretations. Founded in 2015, comprising female electronic musicians and producers from the entourage of Monika Enterprise and Moabit Musik. The loose collective played dozens of improvised concerts around Europe and released a studio album and live recordings in everchanging artist constellations. The M_Sessions involved Pilocka Krach, Beate Bartel, Midori Hirano, Mommo G, Lucrecia Dalt, Antye Greie-Ripatti, Natalie Beridze, Annika Henderson and myself. Here the form of interpretation is focussing on keeping the freedom of their improvised work and adapting it to the collective appropriation of songs. I cannot imagine a better reinterpretation of the material with its real life ups and downs and with its enthusiasm. (G.Gut)

"The three, reunited: Malaria, Matador and Mania D, unter einem Dach, but gutted, replaced with electronic hearts, new beats, new beasts, the time has changed, yet the politics, the problems, the heartache remains the same. 2021 sees the anniversary of the 3 M’s and therewith the production of an album of songs, covering a selection of the bands’ finest output, this time assembled by a new set of feminist misfits; producers, fangirls, instrumentalists, under the strict guidance of original members Gudrun Gut and Beate Bartel. M-Sessions features: AGF, Lucrecia Dalt, Sonae, Midori Hirano, Islaja, Natalie Beridze, Pilocka Krach, Annika Henderson (Anika), Lupe, Gudrun Gut and Beate Bartel. Beginning in West Berlin, in 1979, with the inception of Mania D, spawning Malaria! and later Matador; in a time when music was essential to movement, to escape, to space, to the scene and to the rebellion of the people; three bands stood for trial and error, trial and terror, anti- conformity, and anti-consumerism, for girl power and sticking it to the man, and for just doing whatever the hell they wanted. The three, their existence slightly staggered, with different members, different grudges, different heartbreaks, different instrumental expressions, were joined by a string of barbed wire, piecing pigeon hearts, within the playground that was the desolate ex-capital, now again capital, Berlin; a place where artists and freaks could run free amongst the wrinklies and army dodgers; no microscopes, no rules, no property developers." (ANNIKA HENDERSON)

"This is the time that we, who have benefitted from the Last Poets shouldbe able to say, 'it's the Last Poets. It's them we should be honouring, because we did not honour them for so many years_"

KRS One wasn't just addressing the hip hop fraternity when he uttered
those words by way of introducing the video for Invocation - a poem
written thirty years ago, around the time of the Last Poets' last significant comeback. He was speaking to everyone who's been affected by the word, sound and power issuing from the most revolutionary poetry ever witnessed, and that the Last Poets had introduced to the world outside of Harlem at the dawn of the seventies.

In 2018 the two remaining Last Poets, Abiodun Oyewole and Umar Bin
Hassan, embarked on another memorable return with an album -
Understand What Black Is - that earned favourable comparison with theirseminal works of the past, whilst showcasing their undimmed passion andlyrical brilliance in an entirely new setting - that of reggae music. Trackslike Rain Of Terror ("America is a terrorist") and How Many Bullets demonstrated that they'd lost none of their fire or anger, and their essential raison d'etre remained the same.

"The Last Poets' mission was to pull the people out of the rubble o f their lives," wrote their biographer Kim Green. "They knew, deep down that poetry could save the people - that if black people could see and hear themselves and their struggles through the spoken word, they would be moved to change."

Several years later and the follow-up is now with us. The project started when Tony Allen, the Nigerian master drummer whose unique polyrhythms had driven much of Fela Kuti's best work, dropped by Prince Fatty's Brighton studio and laid down a selection of drum patterns to die for. That was back in 2019, but then the pandemic struck. Once it had passed, the label booked a studio in Brooklyn, where the two Poets voiced four tracks apiece and breathed fresh energy, fire and outrage into some of the most enduring landmarks of their career. Abiodun, who was one of the original Last Poets who'd gathered in East Harlem's Mount Morris Park to celebrate Malcolm X's birthday in May 1968, chose four poems that first appeared on the group's 1970 debut album, called simply The Last Poets. He'd written When The Revolution Comes aged twenty, whilst living in Jamaica, Queens. "We were getting ready for a revolution," he told Green. "There wasn't any question about whether there was going to be one or not. The truth was many of us still saw ourselves as "niggers" and slaves. This was a mindset that had to change if there was ever to be Black Power." He and writer Amiri Baraka were deep in conversation one day when Baraka became distracted by a pretty girl walking by. "You're a gash man," Abiodun told him. The poem inspired by that incident, Gash Man, is revisited on the new album, and exposes the heartless nature of sexual acts shorn of intimacy or affection. "Instead of the vagina being the entrance to heaven," he says, "it too often becomes a gash, an injury, a wound_" Two Little Boys meanwhile, was inspired after seeing two young boys aged around 11 or 12 "stuffing chicken and cornbread down their tasteless mouths, trying to revive shrinking lungs and a wasted mind." They'd walked into Sylvia's soul food restaurant in Harlem, ordered big meals, then bolted them down and run out the door. No one chased after them, knowing that they probably hadn't eaten in days. Fifty years later and children are still going hungry in major cities across America and elsewhere. Abiodun's poem hasn't lost any relevance at all, and neither has New York, New York, The Big Apple. "Although this was written in 1968, New York hasn't changed a bit," he admits, except "today, people just mistake her sickness for fashion." Umar is originally from Akron, Ohio, but had arrived in Harlem in early 1969 after seeing Abiodun and the other Last Poets at a Black Arts Festival in Cleveland. That's where he first witnessed what Amiri Baraka once called "the rhythmic animation of word, poem, image as word- music" - a creative force that redefined the concept of performance poetry and stripped it bare until it became a howl of rage, hurt and anger, saved from destruction by mockery and love for humanity. When Umar's father, who was a musician, was jailed for armed robbery he took to the streets from an early age where he shined shoes and raised whatever money he could to help feed his eight brothers and sisters. By the time he saw the Last Poets he'd joined the Black United Front and was ready to join the struggle. Once in Harlem, Abiodun asked him what he'd learnt in the few weeks since he'd got there. "Niggers are scared of revolution," Umar replied. "Write it down" urged Abiodun. That poem still gives off searing heat more than fifty years later. In Umar's own words, "it became a prayer, a call to arms, a spiritual pond to bathe and cleanse in because niggers are not just vile and disgusting and shiftless. Niggers are human beings lost in someone else's system of values and morals." And there you have it. It's not just race or religion that hold us back, but an economic system that keeps millions in poverty and living in fear - a system born from political choice and that's now become so entrenched, so bloated on its own success that it's put mankind in mortal danger. It was many black people's acceptance of the status quo that inspired Just Because, which like Niggers Are Scared Of Revolution, was included on that seminal first album. Along with their revolutionary rhetoric, it was the Last Poets' use of the "n word" that proved so shocking, but it would be wrong to suggest that they reclaimed it, since it never belonged to black people in the first place. There's never any hiding place when it comes to the Last Poets. They use words like weapons, and that force all who listen to decide who they are and where they stand. Umar's two remaining tracks find him revisiting poems first unleashed on the Poets' second album This Is Madness! Abiodun had left for North Carolina by then where he became more deeply enmeshed in revolutionary activities and spent almost four years in jail for armed robbery after attempting to seize funds related to the Klu Klux Klan. Meanwhile, the 21 year old Umar was squatting in Brooklyn and had developed close ties with the Dar-ul Islam Movement. A longing for purity and time-honoured spiritual values underpins Related to What, whilst This Is Madness is a call for freedom "by any means necessary," and that paints a feverish landscape peopled by prominent black leaders but that quickly descends into chaos. "All my dreams have been turned into psychedelic nightmares," he wails, over a groove now powered by Tony Allen's ferocious drumming. Those sessions lasted just two days, and we can only imagine the atmosphere in that room as the hip hop godfathers exchanged the conga drums of Harlem for the explosive sounds of authentic Afrobeat. Once they'd finished, the recordings and momentum returned to Prince Fatty's studio, since relocated from Brighton to SE London. This was stage three of the project, and who better to fill out the rhythm tracks than two key musicians from Seun Anikulapo Kuti's band Egypt 80? Enter guitarist Akinola Adio Oyebola and bassist Kunle Justice, who upon hearing Allen's trademark grooves exclaimed, "oh, the Father_ we are home!" Such joy and enthusiasm resulted in the perfect fusion of Nigerian Afrobeat and revolutionary poetry, but the vision for the album wasn't yet complete. He wanted to create a new kind of soundscape - one that reunited the Poets with the progressive jazz movement they'd once shared with musicians like Sun Ra and Pharoah Sanders. It was at that point they recruited exciting jazz talents based in the UK like Joe Armon Jones from Mercury Prize winners Ezra Collective, also widely acclaimed producer/remixer and keyboard player Kaidi Tatham, who's been likened to Herbie Hancock, and British jazz legend Courtney Pine, whose genius on the saxophone and influence on the UK's now vibrant jazz scene is beyond question. The instrumental tracks on Africanism are in many ways as revelatory and exciting as the Last Poets' own. It's important to remember that the kaleidoscope of styles and influences we're presented with here aren't the result of sampling but were played "live" by musicians responding to sounds made by other musicians. That's where the magic comes from, aided by Prince Fatty's peerless mixing which allows us to hear everything with such clarity. Music fans today have grown accustomed to listening to all kinds of different genres. Their tastes have never been so broad or all- encompassing, and so the music on this new Last Poets' album is as groundbreaking as their lyrics, and perfectly suited to the era that we're now living in. John Masouri

"Known for her powerful vocals, dynamic stage presence, and diverse musical influences, LA-based soul and funk singer Nikka Costa returns from a musical career break with future-forward disco-inspired sounds on ‘Dirty Disco’.

The lyric “Everyone is welcome, everyone’s an Avatar” denotes a place where anyone can go to be themselves and let their freak flag fly! and sets the tone for her disco and soul fused, progressive album, which is recorded with and produced by Justin Stanley (Prince, Jamie Lidell, Beck etc). Along with the talents of versatile musicians such as Brandon Coleman (Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, Donald Glover, Flying Lotus), Greg Phillinganes (Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder) and Kaveh Rastegar (John Legend, Beck), Nikka Costa invites you to immerse yourself in her “Dirty Disco” world.

“Dirty Disco is about a place anyone can go to be themselves and let their freak flag fly! It’s about a place where no one is looking, no one cares what you're doing or what you're into. It could be a disco, but it could also be another planet or headspace or vibe. It's dark and sparkly, blue and purple. Gritty, raw and sexy. Whatever you want it to be.” - Nikka Costa"

Known for her powerful vocals, dynamic stage presence, and diverse musical influences, LA-based soul and funk singer Nikka Costa returns from a musical career break with future-forward disco-inspired sounds on ‘Dirty Disco’.

The lyric “Everyone is welcome, everyone’s an Avatar” denotes a place where anyone can go to be themselves and let their freak flag fly! and sets the tone for her disco and soul fused, progressive album, which is recorded with and produced by Justin Stanley (Prince, Jamie Lidell, Beck etc). Along with the talents of versatile musicians such as Brandon Coleman (Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, Donald Glover, Flying Lotus), Greg Phillinganes (Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder) and Kaveh Rastegar (John Legend, Beck), Nikka Costa invites you to immerse yourself in her “Dirty Disco” world.

“Dirty Disco is about a place anyone can go to be themselves and let their freak flag fly! It’s about a place where no one is looking, no one cares what you're doing or what you're into. It could be a disco, but it could also be another planet or headspace or vibe. It's dark and sparkly, blue and purple. Gritty, raw and sexy. Whatever you want it to be.” - Nikka Costa

While she was still a member of Nasmak, one of the leading bands of the Dutch ultra-movement, Truus de Groot started Plus Instruments in 1978 with herself as the sole member. When the project evolved, she found a wide range of rotating collaborators like Michel Waisvisz, Lee Ranaldo and James Sclavunos. Plus Instruments was about freedom and the live performances were largely improvised. The sound minimal but captivating. The music always came from within, but De Groot was also triggered by bands like Red Crayola, Suicide, DAF, Wire, Per Ubu, Devo and the No Wave scene in NY. She was always experimenting with primitive multi-track recording and whatever crappy gadgets she could find. Always looking for a gritty, dirty sound and bizarre overtones.

At a young age she travelled to New York and began to immerse herself in the nightlife of the city that never sleeps. Here she found true creativity, passion and expression. The club scene was alive but highly competitive, so this fearless Dutch girl would just knock on promoter’s doors to get gigs booked at places like CBGB’s, Peppermint Lounge, Underground and the Pyramid. De Groot eventually settled in the United States and never stopped experimenting with sound. In recent years she reinvented Plus Instruments and led the group into new territory.

The recordings for this LP were made by De Groot at home and the music is experimental, minimal, industrial but also playful, sounding nothing like most of the later material. 14 tracks in total of which 7 are taken from the elusive and impossible to find self-released debut cassette as ‘Truss Plus Instruments’ which was sparingly distributed by Nigel Jacklin and his legendary Alien Brains fanzine in 1980. The remaining 7 tracks are from the same period (1979-1980) and were carefully selected from the vast archive of De Groot. We are glad to present this anthology that serves as a long overdue testimony to the formative phase of a unique female pioneer of electronic music.

Every morning when Dent May wakes up, the first thing he says is, “What’s for breakfast?” For the Los Angeles-based songwriter and pop auteur, this question is part inside joke with his girlfriend, part sitcom-style catchphrase, and part mantra about getting up every day and persevering in the face of good or bad is happening around you in your life. It’s also the title of his sixth album, which is out on March 29, 2024 via Carpark Records. What’s For Breakfast? is May’s most immediate, nostalgic, and rollicking LP yet, one that’s concerned with breaking daily routines and rediscovering the joys of songwriting.

Over the past 17 years, May has been a consistently adventurous and prolific bedroom pop pioneer and connoisseur of impeccably crafted melodies. Though his songs are always well-written and comfortable, with What’s For Breakfast?, May has freed himself up to more playfully experiment with new and vintage musical inspirations. “I’ve occupied a lot of different lanes over the years,” says May. “I’ve always been drawn to making kaleidoscopic pop inspired by old soul, disco, country, whatever. This time around, I was tapping into music from my childhood, like The Strokes, Weezer and Elephant 6 Collective bands.” By revisiting the music of his youth—energetic and infectious guitar rock—he found a vibrant palate to explore for this new LP.

Lead single “One Call, That’s All” kickstarts with frenetic guitar-driven intensity. While the track slyly takes its name from the slogan of an ambulance-chasing Mississippi lawyer, May sings of unrequited love and phone-based ennui. “It’s a fast tempo pop-rock song that isn’t like anything I’ve done before,” says May. Elsewhere, opener “You Already Know” showcases May’s goofball lyrical charm with lines about playing chess online and looking like a Dawson’s Creek character. Beyond the jokes in the song, there is a bittersweet recognition of time passing and a call to action when May sings, “Now you already know what time it is / It’s time to live your life / Cuz it’s flying by / No matter the day, week, month or year / It’s time to do a lot / Ready or not.”

What’s For Breakfast? marks another first for Dent in being his most collaborative LP yet. Alongside guest appearances from Jimmy Whispers and co-writes with Paul Cherry, are two standout singles with Jordana and Pearl & The Oysters respectively. Jordana assists on the wistful “Coasting on Fumes,” which captures the feeling of being stuck in a rut while the yearning “Time Flies When You’re Having Fun” guests Pearl and the Oysters. “My first album came out almost 15 years ago, so bringing in others to help out is crucial to keep things interesting,” says May. “I’m constantly falling back in love with music through the eyes of others. This album is about remembering why I like music.”

Sasu Ripatti's complete "Dancefloor Classics" series. Music for imaginary dancefloors, released on Ripatti's own label Rajaton.

”Look up, into the light” she said, while the camera shutter clicked. ”Like this? Does it look holy?” His neck felt stiff. Her reply: ”Yes, just like that. What do you mean holy? Like religious? ”No, more like trying to look very far, somewhere beyond what we can see.” ”Okay, stand still, I’m going to come close to you now. The light hits your face great.” click, click, click.
He noticed her fingernails. They were not polished. Natural. Even somewhat rugged, as if something wore out the fingers slightly. What had these hands held besides the camera? What made the edges of her fingernails drift off?
He thought it’s weird to look straight into the camera. The photographer had closed her left eye, the one not looking into the lens. Then it opened, she looked up, perusing the surroundings, then she closed her eye again, then looked up, closed, looking up, very quickly. It all seemed very professional. Maybe she calculated the light, making sure it’s close to perfect. ”What will these photos look like?” – the thought popped into his head briefly. It was liberating to think it wouldn’t matter.
”What’s that song playing?” he asked. ”Wait a sec, Ol’ Dirty Bastard?” she replied. ”Oh yeah, right. But the sample?” ”Hey, could you look up again, like that. No, lower.”
New directions: ”Look out from the window, turn left.” ”My left or yours?” ”Yours, I always try to think from the direction of my model.” How professional! This is a good shoot, so natural. Should I worry about how the photos look like? No, I don’t want to. His thoughts bounced around. What would the story be like? It’s a big newspaper, everyone will read it. Maybe someone drinks coffee and eats a stroopwafel while they do it. Will they place the waffle on top of the mug for a brief while, so that it gets hot and the syrup melts a little? Then it feels wet, and you can bend the cookie.
She broke his train of thought off midway through: ”Now turn right, but look left, and slightly up, but don’t turn your face right.” ”Umm, like this? Sounds like a set of pilates instructions.” she laughed ”You do pilates?” ”Yeah, it’s hard sometimes. Have you tried?” ”No”, she said. ”I’m not good for sports that are done in groups.” ”Yeah, but in pilates you can just be inside your mind, drowning in your private thoughts.”
”What are you thinking in pilates?” she asked, taking more photos. ”Well, mostly just which way is right. And which left.” click, click.

Q&A with Sasu Ripatti:

1) Tell us something about the EP series ”Dancefloor Classics”, what’s the idea and what can we expect?

I’ve been slowly writing these sort of dance music pieces and finally curated them together for a conceptual release. I like to create music for a dancefloor that exists only in my imagination and doesn’t try to suck up to the standardized reality.

2) Your vinyl format is 10” which is quite special (as opposed to LP / 12”). Why did you choose it?

It’s my favourite format, absolutely. The size is perfect, and you can make it sound really good @ 45 rpm. And you still can make great artwork.

3) You seem interested in sampling/repurposing, what does it mean to you as an artist to approach something already existing from a new angle? How does the source material inform you about the approach to take?

I guess i could flip it around and just say I’ve outgrown synths or electronic sounds to a great extend, and having gotten rid off all my synths already good while ago I’ve used samples as my main source material a lot. It’s obvious on this series that i’ve sampled existing music, but I also sample instruments and things in the studio and resample my own library that I have built over the years, it’s quite large. To me the end result matters, not so much how I get there. Once I have something on my keyboard and play around, it’s all an instrument, though with sampling other music it becomes a really interesting and complex one as you’re possibly playing rhythm, but also harmonic content and maybe hooks or whatever, all at once.
I never sample premeditadedly, like listening to records and looking for that mindblowing 3 sec part. I just throw the cards in the air and see what lands where, just full intuition and hopefully zero mind involved, playing tons of stuff, trying things, just recording hours of stuff. Then comes the interesting part to listen to hours of mostly crazy stuff and finding that mindblowing 3 sec part.

4) What is your relationship with the dancefloor (conceptually and/or in experiences / as a performer)?

Very complicated. I have never really felt comfortable on a dancefloor but have always wanted to. There’s something in club music, in theory, that really speaks to me. It has never really materialized for me – speaking mainly from a performer’s point of view who goes to check on a dancefloor for a moment after a concert. I never have DJ’d or felt much interest towards it. But again, I love the idea and concept of DJing. As well as producing music for imaginary DJs. Lately, as in the past 10+ years, I haven’t even performed in any sort of club spaces. So my relationship to the dancefloor is quite removed and reduced, but there’s quite a bit of passion and interest left.

All tracks composed and produced by Sasu Ripatti.
Artwork & photography by Marc Hohmann.
Mastering by Stephan Mathieu for Schwebung Mastering.
Vinyl cut by SST Brueggemann.
Publishing by WARP Music Ltd.

WaterTower Music today announced the release of the eagerly-awaited House of the Dragon: Season 1 (Soundtrack from the HBO® Series), featuring 44 tracks from the first season of House of the Dragon, the Game of Thrones prequel which aired on HBO and HBO Max in August, and whose final season aired last night. All the music for the soundtrack was created by Emmy Award-winning and Grammy®-nominated composer Ramin Djawadi, responsible for the immensely popular scores for HBO's Game of Thrones and Westworld.


Four of Djawadi's tracks were released during the season to great acclaim from fans of the series. Today, fans can enjoy House of the Dragon: Season 1 (Soundtrack from the HBO® Series) in its entirety on 3LP gatefold vinyl, which is now available for pre-order.

28. September 2023 – Als Tina Turner im Mai dieses Jahres verstarb, hinterließ sie das Erbe eines gewaltigen Lebenswerkes. Eine neue Anthologie blickt zurück auf ihre legendäre Solokarriere, die vor fast 50 Jahren ihren Anfang nahm. „Queen of Rock ‘n‘ Roll“ ist eine Zusammenstellung von 55 Tracks, die uns anhand ihrer Singles durch ihre einzigartige Solokarriere führt, angefangen bei ihrer Coverversion von „Whole Lotta Love“ (1975) bis hin zum Kygo-Remix von „What's Love Got to Do With It“ aus dem Jahr 2020. Es ist das erste Mal, dass ihre gesamte Single-Sammlung in einem Set veröffentlicht wird.

„Queen of Rock ‘n‘ Roll“ ist ab dem 24. November erhältlich und kann ab jetzt vorbestellt werden. Die Anthologie erscheint als 3-CD und 5LP-Set sowie als abgespeckte Vinyl-Version mit 12 Tracks. Alle physischen Varianten enthalten ein Vorwort von Bryan Adams, langjähriger Freund und Kreativpartner Turners.

Tinas erste Veröffentlichung als Solokünstlerin erfolgte zu einer Zeit, als sie mit dem Duo Ike & Tina Turner Revue tourte und Alben herausbrachte. „Tina Turns The Country On!“ – so der Titel des 1974 veröffentlichten Solo-Debüts – brachte keine Singles hervor, weshalb diese Anthologie erst 1975 einsetzt. Da nämlich wurde ihre Coverversion von Led Zeppelins „Whole Lotta Love“ vom zweiten Album „Acid Queen“ offiziell als Single veröffentlicht. Im weiteren Verlauf hält die Sammlung Duette mit anderen legendären Künstlern wie David Bowie, Bryan Adams, Eric Clapton und Rod Stewart sowie einige der unvergesslichsten und berühmtesten Pop- und Rock-Singles aller Zeiten bereit, darunter „What's Love Got To Do With It“, „Private Dancer“, „We Don't Need Another Hero“, „The Best“, „Steamy Windows“, „I Don't Wanna Lose You“ und „Disco Inferno“, um nur einige zu nennen.

Um das Vermächtnis der Queen of Rock ‘n’ Roll zu feiern, enthält die Sammlung auch eine neue Version von „Something Beautiful Remains“, nunmehr schlicht betitelt „Something Beautiful“. Der ursprünglich 1996 veröffentlichte Track wurde von Turners legendärem Produzenten und langjährigen Mitstreiter Terry Britten überarbeitet und ist ein gefühlvoller und angemessener letzter Tribut an das kraftvolle Vermächtnis, das sie hinterlässt. Britten, der das Rework nicht lange nach ihrem Tod anfertigte, kommentiert: „Liebe Tina, die Zusammenarbeit mit dir war eine Erfahrung, die sich niemals wiederholen wird. Und doch bleibt in meinem Herzen ‚Something Beautiful‘ zurück.“

Tina wird auf der ganzen Welt verehrt. Mit ihrer persönlichen Geschichte, ihrem Gesang und ihrer Art des Tanzens war und ist sie eine Inspiration für Millionen von Menschen rund um den Globus. Und nicht zuletzt hat sie ein musikalisches Vermächtnis hinterlassen, das einige der bekanntesten Songs aller Zeiten umfasst.

Tina Turner ist zweifellos eine der bedeutendsten Künstlerinnen der modernen Musikgeschichte. Um es mit den Worten Beyoncés bei der Verleihung Kennedy Center Honours 2005 an Tina Turner zu sagen: „Ich werde nie den Moment vergessen, als ich den ersten Auftritt von dir Tina Turner sah. Ich hatte noch nie in meinem Leben eine Frau gesehen, die so kraftvoll, so furchtlos und so fantastisch war." (Hier kann man Beyoncés Laudatio samt darauffolgender Live-Performance ansehen.) 2008 traten die beiden dann gemeinsam bei den Grammy Awards auf und performten „Proud Mary“, ein Song von Ike & Tina Turner aus dem Jahr 1971. Diese Performance – anzusehen hier – gilt heute als einer der ikonischsten Momente in der Geschichte des weltweit wichtigsten Musikpreises.

Tina Turner hat über 200 Millionen Tonträger verkauft und hatte in Deutschland acht Top-10-Singles und ebenso viele Top-10-Alben (bzw. fünf, wenn man die Compilations/Livealben nicht dazuzählt), darunter die #1-Single „We Don’t Need Another Hero“ und die #1-Alben „Break Every Rule“ und „Foreign Affair“. Im UK war sie die erste weibliche Künstlerin, die in sechs aufeinanderfolgenden Jahrzehnten einen Top-40-Hit im Vereinigten Königreich hatte. Dort sind ihre Alben heute mit 20-fachem Platin dekoriert, in den USA mit 9-fachem Platin und in Deutschland mit 11-fachem Platin. Auch im Rest der Welt erzielte Turner gewaltige Verkaufszahlen. Bei den Grammy Awards wurde sie achtmal ausgezeichnet und insgesamt 25-mal nominiert. 1991 wurde Turner in die Rock & Roll Hall of Fame aufgenommen, außerdem hat sie Sterne auf dem Hollywood Walk of Fame und dem St. Louis Walk of Fame. Das Konzert im Maracanã in Rio de Janeiro im Rahmen ihrer „Break Every Rule“-Tournee 1988 stellte mit 184.000 Zuschauer:innen im Maracanã in Rio de Janeiro einen neuen Weltrekord für das größte zahlende Publikum bei einem Solokonzert auf. Das Rolling Stone Magazine führt Tina Turner auf #17 der 100 größten Sänger:innen aller Zeiten und auf #63 der 100 größten Künstler:innen aller Zeiten.

Trotz all dieser Erfolge und ihres gewaltigen Ruhms verschwand die Person Tina Turner nie hinter der Persona Tina Turner. Sie blieb ihre gesamte Karriere über nahbar und authentisch – ein weiterer Grund, wieso sie bis heute weltweit so geliebt wird. Bryan Adams dürfte in seinem wunderschönen und persönlichen Vorwort vielen Menschen aus dem Herzen sprechen, wenn er über die Wirkung schreibt, die Tina auf ihn hatte:

„Tina hat den Lauf meines Lebens verändert, denn ihr schreibe ich zu, dass ich es aus der Bedeutungslosigkeit auf die Bühnen des Vereinigten Königreiches und Europas gebracht habe. Ich bin so dankbar, dass sie etwas von ihrer kostbaren Zeit mit mir teilte. Sie war eine Naturgewalt, niemand hatte ihre Energie oder ihre Stimme“, so Adams, der dann mit Bezug auf seinen 1985er-Song mit Tina Turner anfügt: „It’s only love, and that's all.“

Whatever condition your condition is in, Soul4Real have huddled together a team of the finest soul physicians to make you feel good.

We scoured all the shelves in the soul pharmacy and discovered some potions that were only just through the trial stage. Just one listen to the brilliant Aretha, Gladys, Walter Jackson and the Purify’s tracks convinced us not to wait for FDA approval, so we took the plunge and shared them with the world on vinyl for the very first time.
Recorded in 1968, Arthur Alexander‘s magnificent “I Need You Baby” reached legendary status during the tape-swapping epidemic of the late 70s/early 80s. The first traces of Alexanderitus were linked back to a tape dispensed by a north London mod by the name of Randy Cozens, which went viral. Even today, the mere mention of the title to any of those C60-swap-survivors can cause severe heart palpitations.
Down in Memphis, they tend to practice the holistic approach to heartaches. Southern folk understand it’s about the voice and its natural healing powers, especially when it’s being administered by the likes of the Soul Children and Shirley Brown, who instinctively inject the perfect amount of ache, warmth and emotion to hit just the right spot. May we prescribe at least two listens a day, taken with or without food.
Helping with recovery we have included tracks by our care team Maxine, Gil Scott-Heron and the Isleys, whose gentle grooves will help nurse you back onto the dance floor in record time.
And finally, my personal favourite, Dr Johnnie Taylor. Frankly, it beats me how someone who delivers the lines "she don’t break no records when it comes to good looks” and “she burns up the food when she cooks" to his girlfriend manages to avoid a trip to A&E. We decided such foolish bravery should be rewarded by having his picture on the album cover.

12 tracks, all great examples of real soul music, a mix of well known classics, overlooked gems, and 4 original unreleased songs.

New Zealand indie trifecta Mermaidens, are set to make a resounding splash in the music scene yet again with the announcement of their fourth self-titled album and release of the project's first single ‘I like to be alone’. The trio, comprising of Gussie Larkin (guitar/vocals), Lily West (bass/vocals), and Abe Hollingsworth (drums), has been on an impressive journey of musical excellence, boasting three critically acclaimed albums, international tours, and a slew of accolades to their name. With a sound that is both bold and adventurous, Mermaidens' music is a testament to their unwavering creativity and relentless work ethic. Their upcoming self-titled album, a product of the band's tireless efforts between 2019 - 2022, promises to be a captivating sonic journey, delving into themes of self-awareness, introspection, long-term love, and even channelling political anger and frustration. Recorded mainly at Surgery Studios in Wellington, with the engineering prowess of Lee Prebble and produced by Samuel Flynn-Scott of The Phoenix Foundation fame, the album also saw the band stepping up their production game with Gussie and Lily working their magic with Protools in their DIY home studios, showcasing their growth and versatility as artists. “Working with Sam has really been a round-trip in our creativity,” as Lily explains, “we grew up listening to Sam’s early records and here we are getting the inside scoop on how to make that kind of magic. Listening to Pegasus today still transports me to a time when I listened to music on a Walkman. In the best possible way - sometimes it felt like we’d added an evil genius to the mix, we’d be working on a song and he’d come in like a mad scientist with fresh ideas to try.” To give fans a taste of the upcoming album's brilliance, Mermaidens have released new single 'I like to be alone.' The song has been part of the band's live repertoire for a while and explores the fulfilling contentment of being alone and the struggle to convey this sentiment to a partner. Its relatable lyrics capture the essence of cherishing solitude while navigating the complexities of human connections. Gussie's candid and honest approach to self-discovery is complemented by the song's, Michel Gondry inspired video, as Gussie explains: “The giant jean pocket and denim world were created by Hannah Webster, a textile designer and illustrator based in Wellington. Hannah took all the wild ideas for props and made them come true! I’m still in awe of how she managed to sew a 6x6 metre backdrop for the denim world out of whatever scraps she could find. The video captures our playfulness and sense of humour, and is a hint of what’s to come for the rest of the music videos. I love the way the story wraps up with the three of us together, literally playing “in the pocket”. Mermaidens' self-titled album will be released on Friday 3 November 2023 and is available for pre-order now. UK listeners will be able to pick up an exclusive Rough Trade vinyl pressing in transparent red, along with an A3 poster and jumbo bumper sticker. Having released their last two albums through iconic local label Flying Nun, Mermaidens will be released independently. Creative control is an important pillar for the band, who are hands on in every facet of their projects. Mermaidens gather their community close via their hugely popular multi-city boutique festival Mermgrown, hosting peers including Womb, Hans Pucket, Vera Ellen (Girl Friday) and Kōtiro from 2021 onwards. They've been invited to share the stage with Death Cab For Cutie, Sleater-Kinney, Gang of Four, Parquet Courts, Lorde and The Veils, and have toured extensively in Europe, the UK, and Australia.

GREEN AND WHITE MARBLE VINYL.

The Beths occupy a warm, energetic sonic space between joyful hooks, sun-soaked harmonies, and acerbic lyrics. Their debut album Future Me Hates Me, forthcoming on Carpark Records, delivers an astonishment of roadtrip-ready pleasures, each song hitting your ears with an exhilarating endorphin rush like the first time you heard Slanted and Enchanted or 'Cannonball.'

Front and center on these ten infectious tracks is lead singer and primary songwriter Elizabeth Stokes. Stokes has previously worked in other genres within Auckland's rich and varied music scene, recently playing in a folk outfit, but it was in exploring the angst-ridden sounds of her youth that she found her place. 'Fronting this kind of band was a new experience for me,' says Stokes. 'I never thought I had the right voice for it.'

From the irresistible title track to future singles 'Happy Unhappy' and 'You Wouldn't Like Me,' Stokes commands a vocal range that spans from the brash confidence of Joan Jett to the disarming vulnerability of Jenny Lewis. Further honeying Future Me Hates Me's dark lyrics that explore complex topics like being newly alone and the self-defeating anticipation of impending regret, ecstatic vocal harmonies bubble up like in the greatest pop and R+B of the '60s, while inverting the trope of the 'sad dude singer accompanied by a homogenous girl-sound.'

All four members of The Beths studied jazz at university, resulting in a toolkit of deft instrumental chops and tricked-out arrangements that operate on a level rarely found in guitar-pop. Beths guitarist and studio guru Jonathan Pearce (whose other acts as producer include recent Captured Tracks signing Wax Chattels) brings it all home with an approach that's equal parts seasoned perfectionist and D.I.Y.

'There's a lot of sad sincerity in the lyrics,' she continues, 'that relies on the music having a light heart and sense of humor to keep it from being too earnest.' Channeling their stew of personal-canon heroes while drawing inspiration from contemporaries like Alvvays and Courtney Barnett, The Beths serve up deeply emotional lyrics packaged within heavenly sounds that delight in probing the limits of the pop form. 'That's another New Zealand thing,' Stokes concludes with a laugh. 'We're putting our hearts on our sleeves—and then apologizing for it.'

The anticipation is there in Elizabeth Stokes’ solo guitar riff under the opening lines of “I’m Not Getting Excited”: a frenetic, driving force daring a packed Auckland Town Hall to do exactly the opposite of what the track title suggests.

As the opener of The Beths’ Auckland, New Zealand, 2020 expands to include the full band, the crowd screeches and bellows. It’s a collective exhalation, in one of the few countries where live music is still possible.

The album title, and film of the same name, deliberately include the date and location, lead guitarist Jonathan Pearce says. “That’s the sensational part of what we actually did.” In a mid-pandemic world, playing to a heaving, enraptured home crowd feels miraculous.

In March 2020, everything seemed on track for another huge year for The Beths. Home after an 18-month northern hemisphere tour, they had just finished recording sophomore album Jump Rope Gazers and were primed for more extensive touring. But within days, New Zealand’s lockdown split the band between three separate houses. All touring was cancelled.

“It was existentially bad,” Stokes says. As well as worrying about economic survival, they lost something crucial to the band’s identity: live performance. “It's a huge part of how we see ourselves... What does it mean, if we can't play live?”

The band found an outlet through live-streaming, returning to the do-it-yourself mentality of their early days to connect with a global audience. The album and film have their genesis in that urge to share the now-rare experience of a live show, as widely as possible.

The fuzzy-round-the-edges live-streams pointed the way aesthetically. Native birds, wonkily crafted by the band from tissue paper and wire, festoon the venue’s cavernous ceiling while house plants soften and disguise the imposing pipes of an organ. The presence of the film crew isn’t disguised: much of the camerawork is handheld; full of fast zooms and pans.

With much of the material still fresh, the band was less focused on re-invention than playing “a good, fast rock show”, Pearce says. The tempo is up on crowd favourites “Whatever” and “Future Me Hates Me” (released as a live single on its third anniversary) as both band and audience feed off the mutual energy in the room.

Certain songs have taken on special resonance post-Covid. Pearce has found “Out Of Sight”, a tender rumination on long-distance relationships, hits particularly hard with live audiences.

Album closer “River Run” visibly brings Stokes to tears as a mix of achievement and relief kicks in. “You can finally relax at that point … You play the last note, breathe out a sigh and look up - and you’re in a giant room full of people happy and smiling.”

Rocksteady took Over Orange Street, Jamaica around 1966, the same time that an extreme heatwave hit the Jamaican island. Some say the previous jerky Ska Rhythms proved too strenuous of an activity to partake in, during the all night Sound System sessions .So it proved a winning formula to slow the beat down to a more leisurely pace.

Whatever the reasons were this two year period that ran until 1968, would see some of the power escape from the big three producers, Clement ‘Coxone’ Dodd, Prince Buster and Duke Reid, who up until this period had ruled the airwaves .It was time to make room for a new wave of up and coming producers that also had something to offer the people. Such names as Joel Gibson ( Joe Gibbs ), Sonia Pottinger, Derrick Harriott and most prolific of them all Mr Bunny Lee.

These new names would unleash some fine music in what would be a short lived chapter in the ever changing and moving beat that is reggae’s history. We have compiled some of the biggest hits from the Rocksteady period, alongside some lesser known cuts we believe deserve to be re-evaluated. Rocksteady was an inspirational and somewhat over looked sound that provided us with some outstanding music. So sit back and enjoy some Rocksteady straight from the dances of Jamaica.

The horses are out of the barn…and it’s time to trot. Introducing Mortar & Pestle: a union between two of Canada’s dance bandits at large. D. Tiffany & Maara come together to bring you pure delicious magic. These tracks are fresh out the skillet and piping hot on your plates. Dip us in maple syrup and throw us to the lezzies!

What do you get when you stir the pot…or grind the pestle? Wet, bubbling, sticky, throbbing bangers that make you lose your mind. Two’s company, but three’s a party. Sweetheart Hannah Karpinski hops in with her provocative Polish vocals, ready to ignite the freak fire and desire in this world and beyond. Unhinged, raw, and chaotic, burning the whole barn down. Enjoy this 4-track offering of hypnotic indulgence. Mortar & Pestle: Pound or be Pounded? Whatever you fancy, you’re in for a treat.

Synth lovers rock at its best! Jamaican born and New-York based, Laury Webb is a singer, musician, producer, actor, former model and writer. He's been called both the Opera Dread and the Frank Sinatra of Reggae.
Laury's musical career began with a role as keyboardist and later backing vocalist with the reggae vocal group The Meditations (with whom he continues to perform).
Laury Webb posses a unique and eclectic vocal style. He has performed at some of New York city's premier musical venues, including Lincoln Center's Alice Tully Hall, The Village Gate, S.O.B.'s, The Ritz, The Lion's Den, Joe's Pub, Leopard Lounge, Kenny's Castaway, Central Park Summer Stage, The Baggot Inn and The Brooklyn Bowl.
After enjoying years of being a back-up musician, Laury launched a solo career with his Tigerbone Band. During that period he recorded and releases singles "Woman My Queen" and "It Seems The Same".
He was fresh out of college and touring with The Meditations, when he purchased a small organ for his girlfriend/mother of his two children for Christmas. By the time her birthday came around he was so broke and could not afford to purchase a birthday present for her so he gave her a writing pad and pen and told her to write down whatever came out of her mouth, and he sat at the keyboard and began playing and singing. “Woman My Queen”, was the result.
“It Seems The Same” was begun in America but I did not finish writing it till the music was recorded. My cousin, Barry Biggs, worked with me on this one. We both sang on the backing tracks.
Written, Composed & Arranged by Laury Webb
Artwork by Parade Studio
Woman My Queen:
Recorded at Quadrasonic Studio (New-York) in 1986
Backed by The Tiger Bone Band
Bass: Leroy Guy
Keyboard: Laury Webb
Drums: David Ranglin
Guitar: Royo
Mixed by Peter Lewis
It Seems The Same:
Recorded at Music Mountain Studio (Jamaica) in 1987
Keyboard & Drum Programming: Winston Wright
Backing Vocal: Laury Webb & Barry Biggs

Sniffany & The Nits are a deranged, genuinely troubling punk band
from London featuring members of Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void and
The Tubs. Their debut album, ‘The Unscratchable Itch’, is released
via PRAH Recordings.
Drawing a through line between the British post-punk of The Fall and
the new wave of insolent hardcore typified by bands like Lumpy &
The Dumpers, The Nits have developed a knack for writing unhinged
punk earworms.
But it’s Sister Sniffany, and her singular lyrical and performance style,
who elevates the band beyond the sum of their influences. Her lyrics
inhabit the same world as her “macabre, visceral” (It’s Nice That)
cartoons - a world of hidden humiliations, girl abjection, crumpled
lager cans, clam chowder and lumpy, over-stuffed dollies.
Over the course of ‘The Unscratchable Itch’, Sniffany ventriloquises a
cast of pathetic, unbalanced characters: A secretarial administer tails
her Casanova husband to a suburban swingers party: “I can smell
him from here: a mix of Vaseline, foot cream and Stella beer.” A poor
old grandmother’s glasses fog up as she chastises her
granddaughter: “You self-entitled selfish little twat! / Left me to die in a popcorn-walled flat! / Spotty little smelly little prick! / Making your poor grandmother sick!”
But these characters aren’t detached, impersonal creations. As
Sniffany explains: “In Sniffany & The Nits I like to exorcise and exhibit
the deeply shameful parts of myself that I see as the toxic aspects of
my own femininity.” These are confessional songs about love
addiction, jealousy, possession, self-loathing and “egg smashingfury.” Though occasionally they are literally just about Sex & The City, red-pilled incels or grandmothers. O Williams (drums), Max ‘Wozza’ Warren (bass) and Matt Green
(guitar) have been entrenched in the UK DIY scene for years, having
played in the aforementio ned bands, as well as countless others.
Warren also runs the influential left-field label Gob Nation - a home
for ‘egg punks’ across the country. As such, the band veer between
atonal no-wave guitar assault, straight-up hardcore, goth/anarcho or
whatever takes their fancy, while remaining identifiably Nit-like.
Always grounded by a pounding, pogo-ing rhythm section, The Nits
provide the perfect backdrop for Sister Sniffany’s wild, relentless live
performances.

Double vinyl LP pressing. Wagram music present a release chock-filled with jazz tunes that have been appropriated and live on in the sample-heavy world of hip-hop! Includes tracks by Nina Simone, Bob James, Doris Day, Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, and many others.

2022 Repress

Jamaican love songs always came across as heartfelt poetry whether they conveyed a broken heart, unrequited love or even the message ‘it’s all over don’t bother to come back’ anecdotes. But whatever the mood the singers of these songs were so good and versatile that putting such
subject matter over in a few verses was always so moving and believable.
 
Jamaican love songs were a constant in the ever evolving sounds and
journey’s that reggae music took us on, from ska to rocksteady to the early reggae sounds of the late 1960’s early 1970’s. We have complied a great selection of songs that all deal with that timeless subject matter. Max Romeo’s heartfelt ‘Sometimes’ opens our set in fine style, known more for his roots singing this song proves what a great singer he is. The Melodians a great Jamaican vocal group are featured here with ‘Best Girl’. The Sensations provide us with our title track ‘Born To Love You ‘and the theme for this compilation a great rocksteady tune with fantastic harmonies. Alton Ellis gives us the soulful ‘Room Full Of Tears’. Ken Boothe
provides us with his rendition of Dennis Brown’s ‘Money In My Pocket’  the ode that money cannot buy you everything. Cornell Campbell sings one of his most overlooked classic songs with his prideful `She Wears My Ring’. The great singer of love songs  himself  Mr John Holt tells us that we should all `Reconsider’, before giving up on love and a great lost singer Monty Morris gives us two great examples of how to find love in `Do It My Way’ and `Magic Moments’.
A great selection delivered as only Jamaica can do with style and feeling…….

Hope you enjoy the set …greetings from Jamaica… love songs for all…

Eugene Lamont Johnson a.k.a E Lamont Johnson or Lamont Johnson holds the distinction of being the first internationally recognized fretless bassist in R&B music. Born April 20th 1955 in Highland Park, Michigan. Lamont rose to prominence as a session musician on Gloster Williams &The King Vision’s 1977 gospel album project “Together” (Gospel Roots -5005). In the same year Lamont featured as part of the celebrated Detroit based band Brainstorm their best-selling 1977 album “Stormin’” for Tabu Records. Brainstorm was initially formed during 1975 by bandleader and saxophonist Charles ‘Chuck’ Overton, and included lead vocalist Belita Woods, Lamont Johnson on Fretless bass, Renell Gonsalves on drums, Trenita ‘Treaty’ Womack on percussion, flute and backing vocals, Bob Ross (a.k.a Professor RJ Ross) on keyboards, Gerald ‘Jerry’ Kent on guitar, Jeryl Bright on trombone and ‘Leaping’ Larry Sims on trumpet and flugelhorn. The album was recorded during 1976 and released the following year. It contained the disco hit “Loving Is Really My Game” the popular “Wake Up And Be Somebody” and the radio hit “This Must Be Heaven” a beautifully crafted ballad featuring the lead vocals of Lamont which still receives continued airplay to this day. Lamont did not feature on the band’s two subsequent album projects “Journey To The Light” (Tabu 35327) in 1978 and “Funky Entertainment” (Tabu 35749) in 1979.

The year1978 was to prove to be one of the most prolific of Lamont’s recording career, playing bass on three studio albums. Firstly, on Hamilton Bohannon’s “On My Way” (Mercury SRM-i-3710), Jimmy McKee’s “First Time Out” (Champion- 8083N5) and Keith Barrows “Physical Attraction” (Columbia JC-35597) albums respectively. The final project of that year would be Lamont’s own album project “Music Of The Sun” (Tabu-35455) featuring Lamont on both bass guitar and vocals, the album also spawned two lead 45’s “Sister Fine/Yours Truly, Discreetly” and “Hey Girl/Differently”.

During 1979 Lamont would feature as a guest bassist on a further two studio album projects, firstly the self-titled debut album of fellow Detroit musicians Chapter 8 (Ariola 50056) followed by another self-titled album “Nightflyte” (Ariola 50060) who’s line-up included Howard Johnson prior to him embarking on a solo career. During 1980 Lamont began work on a second solo album for Tabu. Two lead 45 singles were recorded “Rock You Baby/Something More” (Tabu ZS9-5521) followed by the album’s title song “Rhumba” backed with the modern soul favourite “Masta Luva” (ZS9-5525) for whatever reason CBS/Tabu decided to shelve the remainder of the project. Later recording projects to feature Lamont instrumental talents were Was Not Was ‘s “Tell Me I’m Dreaming and Robert Lowe’s “Double Dip” jazz funk album. Later solo CD album projects from Lamont, “This Must Be Heaven” arrived in 2004 and “Amore’ Dance” in 2001 both on his own Allee Records Label. From the mid 70’s through to the present day, Lamont has been a notable electric bass instructor in the Detroit area and beyond. As well as the previously mentioned projects, Lamont and many of his prot’eg’es work can be found on many other world renown artists recording projects the most notable being, Earth Wind & Fire, The Dramatics, Anita Baker, Lady Gaga, Alicia Keys, Phyllis Hyman, Beyonce, Howard Johnson, David T. Walker, Aretha Franklyn, Stevie Wonder, Herbie Hancock, George Duke, The Temptations, The Winans amongst others.

Fast forward to the present and Soul Junction have licensed two previously unissued dance orientated Lamont Johnson produced compositions for this 45sinlge release with more to come. Under the project/artists name of “Lamont Johnson & Eugene” the recordings feature several different local Detroit musicians and vocalists. The a-side is a male vocally led early 90’s mid-tempo feel good dance number. While the b-side in contrast is a more synthesized bass driven 80’s female dancer which should appeal to the Boogie crowd,

Enjoy.

As the sun sets on a quaint East Nashville house, a young man bares a piece of his soul. Facing the camera, sporting a silky suit jacket/shirt/slacks/fingerless gloves ensemble that announces "singer" before he's even opened his mouth, Lee Tracy Johnson settles onto his stage, the front yard. He sways to the dirge-like drum machine pulse of a synth-soaked slow jam, extends his arms as if gaining his balance, and croons in affecting, fragile earnest, "I need your love… oh baby…"

Dogs in the yard next door begin barking. A mysterious cardboard robot figure, beamed in from galaxies unknown and affixed to a tree, is less vocal. Lee doesn't acknowledge either's presence. He's busy feeling it, arms and hands gesticulating. His voice rises in falsetto over the now-quiet dogs, over the ambient noise from the street that seeps into the handheld camcorder's microphone, over the recording of his own voice played back from a boombox off-camera. After six minutes the single, continuous shot ends. In this intimate creative universe there are no re-takes. There are many more music videos to shoot, and as Lee later puts it, "The first time you do it is actually the best. Because you can never get that again. You expressing yourself from within."

"I Need Your Love" dates from a lost heyday. From some time in the '80s or early '90s, when Lee Tracy (as he was known in performance) and his music partner/producer/manager Isaac Manning committed hours upon hours of their sonic and visual ideas to tape. Embracing drum machines and synthesizers – electronics that made their personal futurism palpable – they recorded exclusively at home, live in a room into a simple cassette deck. Soul, funk, electro and new wave informed their songs, yet Lee and Isaac eschewed the confinement of conventional categories and genres, preferring to let experimentation guide them.

"Anytime somebody put out a new record they had the same instruments or the same sound," explains Isaac. "So I basically wanted to find something that's really gonna stand out away from all of the rest of 'em." Their ethos meant that every idea they came up with was at least worth trying: echoed out half-rapped exhortations over frantic techno-style beats, gospel synth soul, modal electro-funk, oddball pop reinterpretations, emo AOR balladry, nods to Prince and the Fat Boys, or arrangements that might collapse mid-song into a mess of arcade game-ish blips before rallying to reach the finish line. All of it conjoined by consistent tape hiss, and most vitally, Lee's chameleonic voice, which managed to wildly shape shift and still evoke something sincere – whether toggling between falsetto and tenor exalting Jesus's return, or punctuating a melismatic romantic adlib with a succinct, "We all know how it feels to be alone."

"People think we went to a studio," says Isaac derisively. "We never went to no studio. We didn't have the money to go to no studio! We did this stuff at home. I shot videos in my front yard with whatever we could to get things together." Sometimes Isaac would just put on an instrumental record, be it "Planet Rock" or "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" (from Evita), press "record," and let Lee improvise over it, yielding peculiar love songs, would-be patriotic anthems, or Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe tributes. Technical limitations and a lack of professional polish never dissuaded them. They believed they were onto something.

"That struggle," Isaac says, "made that sound sound good to me."

In the parlance of modern music criticism Lee and Isaac's dizzying DIY efforts would inevitably be described as "outsider." But "outsider" carries the burden of untold additional layers of meaning if you're Black and from the South, creating on a budget, and trying to get someone, anyone within the country music capital of the world to take your vision seriously. "What category should we put it in?" Isaac asks rhetorically. "I don't know. All I know is feeling. I ain't gonna name it nothing. It's music. If it grabs your soul and touch your heart that's what it basically is supposed to do."

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Born in 1963, the baby boy of nine siblings, Lee Tracy spent his earliest years living amidst the shotgun houses on Nashville's south side. "We was poor, man!" he says, recalling the outhouse his family used for a bathroom and the blocks of ice they kept in the kitchen to chill perishables. "But I actually don't think I really realized I was in poverty until I got grown and started thinking about it." Lee's mom worked at the Holiday Inn; his dad did whatever he had to do, from selling fruit from a horse drawn cart to bootlegging. "We didn't have much," Lee continues, "but my mother and my father got us the things we needed, the clothes on our back." By the end of the decade with the city's urban renewal programs razing entire neighborhoods to accommodate construction of the Interstate, the family moved to Edgehill Projects. Lee remembers music and art as a constant source of inspiration for he and his brothers and sisters – especially after seeing the Jackson 5 perform on Ed Sullivan. "As a small child I just knew that was what I wanted to do."

His older brother Don began musically mentoring him, introducing Lee to a variety of instruments and sounds. "He would never play one particular type of music, like R&B," says Lee. "I was surrounded by jazz, hard rock and roll, easy listening, gospel, reggae, country music; I mean I was a sponge absorbing all of that." Lee taught himself to play drums by beating on cardboard boxes, gaining a rep around the way for his timekeeping, and his singing voice. Emulating his favorites, Earth Wind & Fire and Cameo, he formed groups with other kids with era-evocative band names like Concept and TNT Connection, and emerged as the leader of disciplined rehearsals. "I made them practice," says Lee. "We practiced and practiced and practiced. Because I wanted that perfection." By high school the most accomplished of these bands would take top prize in a prominent local talent show. It was a big moment for Lee, and he felt ready to take things to the next level. But his band-mates had other ideas.

"I don't know what happened," he says, still miffed at the memory. "It must have blew they mind after we won and people started showing notice, because it's like everybody quit! I was like, where the hell did everybody go?" Lee had always made a point of interrogating prospective musicians about their intentions before joining his groups: were they really serious or just looking for a way to pick up girls? Now he understood even more the importance of finding a collaborator just as committed to the music as he was.

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Isaac Manning had spent much of his life immersed in music and the arts – singing in the church choir with his family on Nashville's north side, writing, painting, dancing, and working various gigs within the entertainment industry. After serving in the armed forces, in the early '70s he ran The Teenage Place, a music and performance venue that catered to the local youth. But he was forced out of town when word of one of his recreational routines created a stir beyond the safe haven of his bohemian circles.

"I was growing marijuana," Isaac explains. "It wasn't no business, I was smoking it myself… I would put marijuana in scrambled eggs, cornbread and stuff." His weed use originated as a form of self-medication to combat severe tooth pain. But when he began sharing it with some of the other young people he hung out with, some of who just so happened to be the kids of Nashville politicians, the cops came calling. "When I got busted," he remembers, "they were talking about how they were gonna get rid of me because they didn't want me saying nothing about they children because of the politics and stuff. So I got my family, took two raggedy cars, and left Nashville and went to Vegas."

Out in the desert, Isaac happened to meet Chubby Checker of "The Twist" fame while the singer was gigging at The Flamingo. Impressed by Isaac's zeal, Checker invited him to go on the road with him as his tour manager/roadie/valet. The experience gave Isaac a window into a part of the entertainment world he'd never encountered – a glimpse of what a true pop act's audience looked like. "Chubby Checker, none of his shows were played for Black folks," he remembers. "All his gigs were done at high-class white people areas." Returning home after a few years with Chubby, Isaac was properly motivated to make it in Music City. He began writing songs and scouting around Nashville for local talent anywhere he could find it with an expressed goal: "Find someone who can deliver your songs the way you want 'em delivered and make people feel what you want them to feel."

One day while walking through Edgehill Projects Isaac heard someone playing the drums in a way that made him stop and take notice. "The music was so tight, just the drums made me feel like, oh I'm-a find this person," he recalls. "So I circled through the projects until I found who it was.

"That's how I met him – Lee Tracy. When I found him and he started singing and stuff, I said, ohhh, this is somebody different."

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Theirs was a true complementary partnership: young Lee possessed the raw talent, the older Isaac the belief. "He's really the only one besides my brother and my family that really seen the potential in me," says Lee. "He made me see that I could do it."

Isaac long being a night owl, his house also made for a fertile collaborative environment – a space where there always seemed to be a new piece of his visual art on display: paintings, illustrations, and dolls and figures (including an enigmatic cardboard robot). Lee and Issac would hang out together and talk, listen to music, conjure ideas, and smoke the herb Isaac had resumed growing in his yard. "It got to where I could trust him, he could trust me," Isaac says of their bond. They also worked together for hours on drawings, spreading larges rolls of paper on the walls and sketching faces with abstract patterns and imagery: alien-like beings, tri-horned horse heads, inverted Janus-like characters where one visage blurred into the other.

Soon it became apparent that they didn't need other collaborators; self-sufficiency was the natural way forward. At Isaac's behest Lee, already fed up with dealing with band musicians, began playing around with a poly-sonic Yamaha keyboard at the local music store. "It had everything on it – trumpet, bass, drums, organ," remembers Lee. "And that's when I started recording my own stuff."

The technology afforded Lee the flexibility and independence he craved, setting him on a path other bedroom musicians and producers around the world were simultaneously following through the '80s into the early '90s. Saving up money from day jobs, he eventually supplemented the Yamaha Isaac had gotten him with Roland and Casio drum machines and a Moog. Lee was living in an apartment in Hillside at that point caring for his dad, who'd been partially paralyzed since early in life. In the evenings up in his second floor room, the music put him in a zone where he could tune out everything and lose himself in his ideas.

"Oh I loved it," he recalls. "I would really experiment with the instruments and use a lot of different sound effects. I was looking for something nobody else had. I wanted something totally different. And once I found the sound I was looking for, I would just smoke me a good joint and just let it go, hit the record button." More potent a creative stimulant than even Isaac's weed was the holistic flow and spontaneity of recording. Between sessions at Isaac's place and Lee's apartment, their volume of output quickly ballooned.

"We was always recording," says Lee. "That's why we have so much music. Even when I went to Isaac's and we start creating, I get home, my mind is racing, I gotta start creating, creating, creating. I remember there were times when I took a 90-minute tape from front to back and just filled it up."

"We never practiced," says Isaac. "See, that was just so odd about the whole thing. I could relate to him, and tell him about the songs I had ideas for and everything and stuff. And then he would bring it back or whatever, and we'd get together and put it down." Once the taskmaster hell bent on rehearsing, Lee had flipped a full 180. Perfection was no longer an aspiration, but the enemy of inspiration.

"I seen where practicing and practicing got me," says Lee. "A lot of musicians you get to playing and they gotta stop, they have to analyze the music. But while you analyzing you losing a lot of the greatness of what you creating. Stop analyzing what you play, just play! And it'll all take shape."

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"I hope you understood the beginning of the record because this was invented from a dream I had today… (You tell me, I'll tell you, we'll figure it out together)" – Lee Tracy and Isaac Manning, "Hope You Understand"

Lee lets loose a maniacal cackle when he acknowledges that the material that he and Isaac recorded was by anyone's estimation pretty out there. It's the same laugh that commences "Hope You Understand" – a chaotic transmission that encapsulates the duality at the heart of their music: a stated desire to reach people and a compulsion to go as leftfield as they saw fit.

"We just did it," says Lee. "We cut the music on and cut loose. I don't sit around and write. I do it by listening, get a feeling, play the music, and the lyrics and stuff just come out of me."

The approach proved adaptable to interpreting other artists' material. While recording a cover of Whitney Houston's pop ballad "Saving All My Love For You," Lee played Whitney's version in his headphones as he laid down his own vocals – partially following the lyrics, partially using them as a departure point. The end result is barely recognizable compared with the original, Lee and Isaac having switched up the time signature and reinvented the melody along the way towards morphing a slick mainstream radio standard into something that sounds solely their own.

"I really used that song to get me started," says Lee. "Then I said, well I need something else, something is missing. Something just came over me. That's when I came up with 'Is It What You Want.'"

The song would become the centerpiece of Lee and Isaac's repertoire. Pushed along by a percolating metronomic Rhythm King style beat somewhere between a military march and a samba, "Is It What You Want" finds Lee pleading the sincerity of his commitment to a potential love interest embellished by vocal tics and hiccups subtlely reminiscent of his childhood hero MJ. Absent chord changes, only synth riffs gliding in and out like apparitions, the song achieves a lingering lo-fi power that leaves you feeling like it's still playing, somewhere, even after the fade out.

"I don't know, it's like a real spiritual song," Lee reflects. "But it's not just spiritual. To me the more I listen to it it's like about everything that you do in your everyday life, period. Is it what you want? Do you want a car or you don't want a car? Do you want Jesus or do you want the Devil? It's basically asking you the question. Can't nobody answer the question but you yourself."

In 1989 Lee won a lawsuit stemming from injuries sustained from a fight he'd gotten into. He took part of the settlement money and with Isaac pressed up "Saving All My Love For You" b/w "Is It What You Want" as a 45 single. Isaac christened the label One Chance Records. "Because that's all we wanted," he says with a laugh, "one chance."

Isaac sent the record out to radio stations and major labels, hoping for it to make enough noise to get picked up nationally. But the response he and Lee were hoping for never materialized. According to Isaac the closest the single got to getting played on the radio is when a disk jock from a local station made a highly unusual announcement on air: "The dude said on the radio, 107.5 – 'We are not gonna play 'Is It What You Want.' We cracked up! Wow, that's deep.

"It was a whole racist thing that was going on," he reflects. "So we just looked over and kept on going. That was it. That was about the way it goes… If you were Black and you were living in Nashville and stuff, that's the way you got treated." Isaac already knew as much from all the times he'd brought he and Lee's tapes (even their cache of country music tunes) over to Music Row to try to drum up interest to no avail.

"Isaac, he really worked his ass off," says Lee. "He probably been to every record place down on Music Row." Nashville's famed recording and music business corridor wasn't but a few blocks from where Lee grew up. Close enough, he remembers, for him to ride his bike along its back alleys and stumble upon the occasional random treasure, like a discarded box of harmonicas. Getting in through the front door, however, still felt a world away.

"I just don't think at the time our music fell into a category for them," he concedes. "It was before its time."

=

Lee stopped making music some time in the latter part of the '90s, around the time his mom passed away and life became increasingly tough to manage. "When my mother died I had a nervous breakdown," he says, "So I shut down for a long time. I was in such a sadness frame of mind. That's why nobody seen me. I had just disappeared off the map." He fell out of touch with Isaac, and in an indication of just how bad things had gotten for him, lost track of all the recordings they'd made together. Music became a distant memory.

Fortunately, Isaac kept the faith. In a self-published collection of his poetry – paeans to some of his favorite entertainment and public figures entitled Friends and Dick Clark – he'd written that he believed "music has a life of its own." But his prescience and presence of mind were truly manifested in the fact that he kept an archive of he and Lee's work. As perfectly imperfect as "Is It What You Want" now sounds in a post-Personal Space world, Lee and Isaac's lone official release was in fact just a taste. The bulk of the Is It What You Want album is culled from the pair's essentially unheard home recordings – complete songs, half-realized experiments, Isaac's blue monologues and pronouncements et al – compiled, mixed and programmed in the loose and impulsive creative spirit of their regular get-togethers from decades ago. The rest of us, it seems, may have finally caught up to them.

On the prospect of at long last reaching a wider audience, Isaac says simply, "I been trying for a long time, it feels good." Ever the survivor, he adds, "The only way I know how to make it to the top is to keep climbing. If one leg break on the ladder, hey, you gotta fix it and keep on going… That's where I be at. I'll kill death to make it out there."

For Lee it all feels akin to a personal resurrection: "It's like I was in a tomb and the tomb was opened and I'm back… Man, it feels so great. I feel like I'm gonna jump out of my skin." Success at this stage of his life, he realizes, probably means something different than what it did back when he was singing and dancing in Isaac's front yard. "What I really mean by 'making it,'" he explains isn't just the music being heard but, "the story being told."

Occasionally Lee will pull up "Is It What You Want" on YouTube on his phone, put on his headphones, and listen. He remembers the first time he heard his recorded voice. How surreal it was, how he thought to himself, "Is that really me?" What would he say to that younger version of himself now?

"I would probably tell myself, hang in there, don't give up. Keep striving for the goal. And everything will work out."

Despite what's printed on the record label, sometimes you do get more than one chance.