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Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Out October 6th, 2023, it is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom. Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft. Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before. Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey [Buckingham]” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded. The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

When Festival de Frue’s organizers asked Sam Wilkes to put together an ensemble for their 2022 festival, they initially asked for the band he created for his 2021 album “One Theme & Subsequent Improvisation.” With keyboardist Chris Fishman (Pat Metheny, Louis Cole) the only member of that group who was available, Wilkes asked that the organizers select one of two groups as an alternative: a Trio featuring drummer Craig Weinrib (Henry Threadgill, Amen Dunes) and guitarist Dylan Day (Jenny Lewis, Jackson Browne)—with whom Wilkes recently released a trio album—or a Quartet featuring Weinrib, Fishman, and keyboardist and guitarist Thom Gill (KNOWER, Joseph Shabason). “I couldn’t make the decision on which band I should bring, I felt very confused about it,” he says. Through a strange series of miscommunications—or simply a bit of serendipity—both Wilkes and the Frue organizers thought the other had suggested combining the ensembles into a Quintet including members of both groups. An idea that neither side voiced somehow became the obvious choice. The combined Quintet represents what Wilkes calls “two disparate worlds in my community,” that of the “virtuosic, fast-paced grid” of music played with Fishman and Gill, “and this other thing with Dylan that’s coming from different elements of traditional American music.” Luckily, Weinrib fits seamlessly into both worlds. While all members of the group played on Wilkes’ 2023 album Driving, they’d never all played together. They had one five-hour rehearsal in Tokyo, but, Wilkes says, “It was impossible for me to predict how this music was going to sound.” His strategy, after showing them the arrangements of several of his own compositions and a few covers, was to “allow everyone to blossom fully” with the hope that “what I’ll get is everyone’s personality being expressed unfettered.” iiyo iiyo iiyo is Sam Wilkes’ fifth album as bandleader and arranger, and the atmosphere is so rich it spills out of the speakers. The album, a document of the Quintet’s meeting, was recorded live at Festival de Frue in Kakegawa and at WWWX in Tokyo, where they played headlining sets for hundreds of people. Not that you’d know it from the intimate interplay between the players or the small-room feel of the recording. In opener “Descending,” which made its debut on Wilkes’ 2018 self-titled album, the mood is so cozy you’d swear the sound of kids at play in the back of the hall had been sampled in—another perfect bit of serendipity. For Wilkes, setting the right tone for a performance or a recording is paramount, and it’s inseparable from how he understands his role as a bassist. “My entryway into understanding my thing, what I care about the most in music, was through accompaniment; focusing on time, feel, tone, form, and most importantly, listening.” he says. “There are things that are ineffable about that, which is the energy. But there are also conscious and subconscious decisions, where I’m arranging and orchestrating to create the ultimate environment for, say, Dylan to play his melody over, or Thom to play his. Those are choices as much as reactions, combining in equal parts in-depth preparation and total improvisation” The title iiyo iiyo iiyo is a Japanese expression used in response to an outpouring of gratitude, a cheeky way of brushing the accolades off of oneself. Accordingly, the record is full of charming, homespun personality. In a gorgeous version of the standard “I Wanna Be Loved,” Day plays the melody in a way that moves between washed-out ambient gauze and a traditionally beautiful run of lines that echoes the Dinah Washington original. While the band circulates the mantric melody in “Descending,” Fishman dots around it on his Moog One, opening a new seam in a song that’s quickly become a Wilkes standard. Weinrib’s patient, impressionistic brush strokes seem to swirl beneath the melody, while Gill fogs the room with thick, reverb-heavy accompaniment from his keys. And where is Wilkes in all this? He’s guiding his friends, helping them decorate a room that he himself built, drawing them deeper into the song’s wistful, hopeful, grounded atmosphere. His polyphonic voicings—a signature of his playing—sets out the song’s boundaries and acts as both its musical and emotional anchor. It’s the approach Wilkes takes across the album, using his phrasing as both the music’s gravitational center and its heart, and he does it to perfection in the opening minute or so of “Girl.” The song originally appeared on Sam Wilkes “Sings” (2014–2016)” in what he calls a “psychotically different arrangement.” On stage in Kakegawa, he slows the song to a crawl and isolates its central chords. He plays them gently, patiently; he voices the chords with the clarity of a person who’s just cried out all of their confusion. As Wilkes says, his role as a bassist means that he’s the foundation of these songs, and foundations by their very nature tend to be obscured. Here, for one lovely moment, he strips everything back to the studs, revealing the lush architecture that holds this miraculous music together.

When Festival de Frue’s organizers asked Sam Wilkes to put together an ensemble for their 2022 festival, they initially asked for the band he created for his 2021 album “One Theme & Subsequent Improvisation.” With keyboardist Chris Fishman (Pat Metheny, Louis Cole) the only member of that group who was available, Wilkes asked that the organizers select one of two groups as an alternative: a Trio featuring drummer Craig Weinrib (Henry Threadgill, Amen Dunes) and guitarist Dylan Day (Jenny Lewis, Jackson Browne)—with whom Wilkes recently released a trio album—or a Quartet featuring Weinrib, Fishman, and keyboardist and guitarist Thom Gill (KNOWER, Joseph Shabason). “I couldn’t make the decision on which band I should bring, I felt very confused about it,” he says. Through a strange series of miscommunications—or simply a bit of serendipity—both Wilkes and the Frue organizers thought the other had suggested combining the ensembles into a Quintet including members of both groups. An idea that neither side voiced somehow became the obvious choice. The combined Quintet represents what Wilkes calls “two disparate worlds in my community,” that of the “virtuosic, fast-paced grid” of music played with Fishman and Gill, “and this other thing with Dylan that’s coming from different elements of traditional American music.” Luckily, Weinrib fits seamlessly into both worlds. While all members of the group played on Wilkes’ 2023 album Driving, they’d never all played together. They had one five-hour rehearsal in Tokyo, but, Wilkes says, “It was impossible for me to predict how this music was going to sound.” His strategy, after showing them the arrangements of several of his own compositions and a few covers, was to “allow everyone to blossom fully” with the hope that “what I’ll get is everyone’s personality being expressed unfettered.” iiyo iiyo iiyo is Sam Wilkes’ fifth album as bandleader and arranger, and the atmosphere is so rich it spills out of the speakers. The album, a document of the Quintet’s meeting, was recorded live at Festival de Frue in Kakegawa and at WWWX in Tokyo, where they played headlining sets for hundreds of people. Not that you’d know it from the intimate interplay between the players or the small-room feel of the recording. In opener “Descending,” which made its debut on Wilkes’ 2018 self-titled album, the mood is so cozy you’d swear the sound of kids at play in the back of the hall had been sampled in—another perfect bit of serendipity. For Wilkes, setting the right tone for a performance or a recording is paramount, and it’s inseparable from how he understands his role as a bassist. “My entryway into understanding my thing, what I care about the most in music, was through accompaniment; focusing on time, feel, tone, form, and most importantly, listening.” he says. “There are things that are ineffable about that, which is the energy. But there are also conscious and subconscious decisions, where I’m arranging and orchestrating to create the ultimate environment for, say, Dylan to play his melody over, or Thom to play his. Those are choices as much as reactions, combining in equal parts in-depth preparation and total improvisation” The title iiyo iiyo iiyo is a Japanese expression used in response to an outpouring of gratitude, a cheeky way of brushing the accolades off of oneself. Accordingly, the record is full of charming, homespun personality. In a gorgeous version of the standard “I Wanna Be Loved,” Day plays the melody in a way that moves between washed-out ambient gauze and a traditionally beautiful run of lines that echoes the Dinah Washington original. While the band circulates the mantric melody in “Descending,” Fishman dots around it on his Moog One, opening a new seam in a song that’s quickly become a Wilkes standard. Weinrib’s patient, impressionistic brush strokes seem to swirl beneath the melody, while Gill fogs the room with thick, reverb-heavy accompaniment from his keys. And where is Wilkes in all this? He’s guiding his friends, helping them decorate a room that he himself built, drawing them deeper into the song’s wistful, hopeful, grounded atmosphere. His polyphonic voicings—a signature of his playing—sets out the song’s boundaries and acts as both its musical and emotional anchor. It’s the approach Wilkes takes across the album, using his phrasing as both the music’s gravitational center and its heart, and he does it to perfection in the opening minute or so of “Girl.” The song originally appeared on Sam Wilkes “Sings” (2014–2016)” in what he calls a “psychotically different arrangement.” On stage in Kakegawa, he slows the song to a crawl and isolates its central chords. He plays them gently, patiently; he voices the chords with the clarity of a person who’s just cried out all of their confusion. As Wilkes says, his role as a bassist means that he’s the foundation of these songs, and foundations by their very nature tend to be obscured. Here, for one lovely moment, he strips everything back to the studs, revealing the lush architecture that holds this miraculous music together.

For his sophomore full-length album, LA-based Bassist/Producer/Composer Sam Wilkes is prompted with ten questions from Leaving Records community mentor & facilitator Carlos Niño.

it was recorded live at my first concert in new york city in the summer of 2022, right before i recorded iiyo iiyo iiyo and right after i recorded the doober with sam gendel and then Nothing with Louis Cole.

i think it is my most grooving record.

it was recorded live at my first concert in new york city in the summer of 2022, right before i recorded iiyo iiyo iiyo and right after i recorded the doober with sam gendel and then Nothing with Louis Cole.

i think it is my most grooving record.

Sam Wilkes answers a few questions from Leaving Records labelmate Carlos Niño, on his debut full-length WILKES Listening to WILKES numerous times, considering what I might write about it for a Press Release, (which I agreed to do because I'm a fan of his Music and his collaborations with Sam Gendel and Louis Cole / Knower,) I was growing in enthusiasm, looking forward to my next radio show or DJ set including the song "Today" so I could hear it bump in a nice system. I was hyped the more I took in this 6 song offering. I thought to ask Sam about his new record and use his answers as aid to illustrate some of my feelings, but when I read his reply I thought you should too. It's so descriptive and visual, perfect to pull from and quote.

Garment Dyed T--sh

	S	M	L
length	66.0	71.0	73.0
width	47.0	52.0	54.0
sleeve length	18.0	21.0	22.0
shoulder width	46.0	50.0	52.0

Most of this recording was made during a single early evening in Southern California, outdoors, with the San Bernardino Mountains in view. Sam Wilkes played bass guitar, Craig Weinrib played trap drums, and Dylan Day played electric guitar. Eight months after that dusk recording session, the trio reconvened to capture a few more pieces. Wilkes wanted to hear Dylan play a Jobim melody (How Insensitive), Dylan wanted to hear Craig play a funeral march (When I Can Read My Titles Clear), and Craig wanted to play nice and gentle. The resulting record, a document of an initial and seemingly fated musical encounter, conveys the ease and the intensity of the trio’s chemistry. Their shared sonic affinities, while essential to the record’s sound, feel secondary to the integrity, confidence, and mutual regard that suffuse each note and every beat. Atop standards, folk songs, and hymns, Wilkes, Weinrib, and Day unfurl a series of cascading improvisations. Joyful and precise music. Sam Wilkes is from Westport, Connecticut and lives in Los Angeles, California. Craig Weinrib is from New York and lives in New York. Dylan Day is from Fletcher, Vermont and lives in Los Angeles, California.

Most of this recording was made during a single early evening in Southern California, outdoors, with the San Bernardino Mountains in view. Sam Wilkes played bass guitar, Craig Weinrib played trap drums, and Dylan Day played electric guitar. Eight months after that dusk recording session, the trio reconvened to capture a few more pieces. Wilkes wanted to hear Dylan play a Jobim melody (How Insensitive), Dylan wanted to hear Craig play a funeral march (When I Can Read My Titles Clear), and Craig wanted to play nice and gentle. The resulting record, a document of an initial and seemingly fated musical encounter, conveys the ease and the intensity of the trio’s chemistry. Their shared sonic affinities, while essential to the record’s sound, feel secondary to the integrity, confidence, and mutual regard that suffuse each note and every beat. Atop standards, folk songs, and hymns, Wilkes, Weinrib, and Day unfurl a series of cascading improvisations. Joyful and precise music. Sam Wilkes is from Westport, Connecticut and lives in Los Angeles, California. Craig Weinrib is from New York and lives in New York. Dylan Day is from Fletcher, Vermont and lives in Los Angeles, California.

1965 samba jazz gem recorded by Humberto Clayber, Hermeto Pascoal and Airto Moreira in the early days of their careers. Includes the killer ‘João Sem Braço’ featuring Hermeto’s howling flute and Airto’s overwhelming percussion work. This is the only album ever released by this Brazilian all-star group and has remained unavailable for decades. First time vinyl reissue. LISTEN: www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEQuvkOzGPg ESCUCHA: www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEQuvkOzGPg Auténtica joya de samba jazz grabada en 1965 por Airto Moreira, Humberto Clayber y Hermeto Pascoal, al comienzo de sus carreras. Incluye el demoledor ‘João Sem Braço’ con la flauta aullante de Hermeto y el abrumador trabajo percusivo de Airto. “Em Som Maior” es el único álbum grabado por este grupo all-star de músicos brasileños y ha sido prácticamente inencontrable durante décadas. Nos complace presentar ahora su primera reedición en vinilo.

With Ylh Bye Bye, Swiss-Moroccan producer Sami Galbi delivers a raw and electrifying debut album after the succes of his first single Dakchi Hani / Rruina. Merging North African folk, chaâbi, and trap with forward-thinking electronic club music, his punk energy and DIY ethos stem from years immersed in Lausanne’s underground squat scene, shaping a sound that’s both deeply personal and politically charged.

Driven by infectious North African melodic loops, heavy basslines, and percussive textures—blending bendir drums, karkabas, and analog synths—Ylh Bye Bye pulses with urgency. From high-energy dancefloor anthems to dreamy acid pop ballads, the album explores themes of migration, identity, and belonging. Galbi’s Arabic vocals oscillate between auto-tuned harmonies and spoken word, capturing the tensions of diaspora life.

Recorded between Switzerland and Morocco, the album’s title—meaning “Let’s go” or “See you” in regional slang—reflects the artist’s nomadic journey, from a DIY studio in a van to a transformative creative residency in Casablanca. It’s a work of constant movement, embodying both departure and return.

This is fun. L.A. purveyor of beats and certified hip-hop aficionado Samiyam, of Stones Throw and Flyamsam (with FlyLo) fame has made an album dedicated to another passion of his: a love of Death Metal. Thus the new record was born, consisting of 13 tracks of heavy beats and even heavier metal tones. Far out.

The manc undergrowth continues to sprout new nodes on this killer double album - production by Michael J. Blood, vocals and songs by Samizdat, a real dense cloud of tunes on a tip somewhere between classic Theo Parrish mixes - heavy on the EQ - and Darren J. Cunningham’s Thriller edits, with a mumbled, punk swagger all its own. Like all MJB gear; sleep on it, weep on it. Honeyed and screwed, this one carries thru a long tradition of spiky, anti-establishment expression, augmented by MJB’s genius production and Samizdat's blunted - almost slurred - vocal delivery; mystical, itchy and red-eyed. The duo embody a deviant aesthetic, but guide you thru their narcotic vapours with ease. Like some screwed Ugly Edit, it’s all slow, clipped and hazed to fuck, pitched, and extended, all abrupt endings and no-starts, just over an hour of the special stuff. Yeah these two weave in and out of each other like nothing else. “I seek to fold into Blood’s productions as I believe in the collaborative idea of euphoria, like being touched by each other’s inflections. We try to celebrate and to re-appropriate the notion of what it is to be artistic outside of a “creative industry”. The sam part of the word means “self.” The whole samizdat—translates as: “We publish ourselves”—that is, not the state, but we, the people.“ Aye. Whatever DIY means, surely this is it.

"Beirut group Sanam’s debut record Aykathani Malakon blasts to life with its mix of low-tuned guitar jams, industrial drums, and earthy vocals – an immersive collection of dark and spacious textures” The Guardian “A gritty blend of noise rock, ambient textures and Arabic forms that cast the traditional material in a visceral new context" The Wire "Absolutely love this record, it's amazing” Tom Ravenscroft “A bit post punk and experimental and very very interesting” Gilles Peterson ++++ Debut release from the Beirut-based free-rock post-folk sextet. Album mixed by Radwan Ghazi Moumneh (Jerusalem in My Heart) and mastered by Heba Kadry. SANAM's music is a ritual where improvised rock, free jazz and noise underscore an exorcism of traditional Egyptian song and Arabic poetry. SANAM formed following an invitation to perform with Hans Joachim Irmler from the legendary German experimental group Faust, at Beirut's Irtijal music festival in 2021. Sandy Chamoun (vocals), Antonio Hajj (bass), Farah Kaddour (buzuk), Anthony Sahyoun (guitar, synth), Pascal Semerdjian (drums) and Marwan Tohme (guitars) bring a myriad of influences gleaned from years performing either solo or as members of influential acts in Beirut’s tight-knit independent music scene (such as Al Rahel al Kabir, Postcards, Kinematik and Ovid). The musicians had planned to reiterate their fortuitous experience with Irmler but when this plan fell through, they decided to go on a recording residency together instead in a traditional house in the village of Saqi Reshmaya, Lebanon. The recording of the album took place during a particularly difficult time in their native country of Lebanon, which continues to suffer from an unprecedented economic collapse as well as social and political unrest. “We decided to take eight days off in May 2022 in an effort to completely disconnect ourselves from Beirut” says Sahyoun, who also performs in post-rock outfit Kinematik. During their residency, the musicians, who come from distinct musical styles and backgrounds, decided to record the full album live with no overdubs: “The musical direction for SANAM was set out by the improv sessions with Joachim," says Sahyoun. "We weren't looking at doing something specific, it ended up coming out as a weird mix between improvised rock, tarab/arabic song and ambient. Kind of putting different things in a blender (our different musical backgrounds) and never really letting them quite fuse together. Recounting the insular experience of recording this debut, Sandy Chamoun described it as “almost hallucinogenic, as if there was a tacit agreement among us to produce an album that sounded 'unearthly' ”. Combining regional and local folklore and poetry with experimental forms of instrumental music are at the core of Aykathani Malakon. Chamoun, who chose the texts for this album and has performed in the Lebanese satirical music collective Al Rahel al Kabir, turned to modern and contemporary Arab writers and composers such as Lebanese poet Bassem Hajjar whose poem Aykathani Malakon lends the album its title and opening track, Paul Chaoul whose poem Chamoun recites in a state of ascending ecstasy in Ayouha Al-Taiin Fi Al-Mawt and the Egyptian composer Sayyid Darwish in the languorous Ya Nass that features prominently the buzuk played by Farah Kaddour. As Chamoun points out, the poetry or lyrics in the album constitute “a collective call for an escape from a hallucinatory state engendered by love but also the mysteries of life itself”.

"Sametou Sawtan translates from the Arabic to “I Heard A Voice”. Spooky or spiritual, however one reads the phrase, it speaks to the ability of sound and language to cause pause, steal attention, and open us to the moment. Likewise, the music of SANAM blurs tender frenzies and fire-scorched ballads, collapsing free-flowing rock and jazz frameworks into deeply rooted Arabic tradition. To hear them in full flight is to be held in the present and reorientated towards an open horizon.

The record processes feelings of distance and dislocation. Whether in the yearning ballad “Goblin” or the slow-burning, autotune-doused freakout of “Habibon”, Sametou Sawtan captures the striving for stable ground in a world seldom capable of offering it. It rides the mesmerizing intensity of the SANAM live experience while affording their music nuance, depth, and tremendous dynamic range.

Like their debut, lyrics for many tracks are borrowed, words placed into new contexts to process the present. “Hamam” reinterprets an Egyptian folk song. In “Hadikat Al Ams”, the cracked hard-rock stomp propels text by contemporary Lebanese writer Paul Shaoul. And both “Sayl Damei” and the title track use poems by twelfth century Iranian poet and groundbreaking mathematician Omar Khayyam."

"Sametou Sawtan translates from the Arabic to “I Heard A Voice”. Spooky or spiritual, however one reads the phrase, it speaks to the ability of sound and language to cause pause, steal attention, and open us to the moment. Likewise, the music of SANAM blurs tender frenzies and fire-scorched ballads, collapsing free-flowing rock and jazz frameworks into deeply rooted Arabic tradition. To hear them in full flight is to be held in the present and reorientated towards an open horizon.

The record processes feelings of distance and dislocation. Whether in the yearning ballad “Goblin” or the slow-burning, autotune-doused freakout of “Habibon”, Sametou Sawtan captures the striving for stable ground in a world seldom capable of offering it. It rides the mesmerizing intensity of the SANAM live experience while affording their music nuance, depth, and tremendous dynamic range.

Like their debut, lyrics for many tracks are borrowed, words placed into new contexts to process the present. “Hamam” reinterprets an Egyptian folk song. In “Hadikat Al Ams”, the cracked hard-rock stomp propels text by contemporary Lebanese writer Paul Shaoul. And both “Sayl Damei” and the title track use poems by twelfth century Iranian poet and groundbreaking mathematician Omar Khayyam."

"Sandman has added South Indian music to the genre-bending mix, along with funk grooves and nods to the Heath Robinson analog-synth adventures of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop in the 1950s and 1960s" ⭐️ All About Jazz (UK) ⭐️ “The Sandman Project speaks the universal language of…global pop” ⭐️ Bayern Radio 7.4/10 (DE) ⭐️ “An exhilarating ten-track oeuvre, an evocative, borderless potpourri of global surf 'n' turf styles with a jazz ethos" ⭐️ Greedy For Best (DE) ⭐️ “It pivots around the character of Mulatu Astatke and the Fleet Foxes with winds and guitar and a little electronic touch from Brian Eno” ⭐️ DJ Magazine (ES) ⭐️ “This outfit is a jack of all trades and, on this evidence, a master of them all too” ⭐️ Pipelines Magazine (UK) ⭐️ “Brilliant album, will playlist on my PBB Radio show” ⭐️ Laurent Garnier (FR) ⭐️ Sandman Project’s long awaited debut album Where Did You Go? is a borderless amalgam of brass heavy sounds, a document of a band whose musical tendencies mimic their open-minded ethic where Ethio- jazz, Afrobeat, American soul music and psychedelic, Mediterranean funk traverse. Led by guitarist and composer Tal Sandman, Tel Aviv based Sandman Projects’s last release was in 2018 on their debut EP, their only existing recording. Six years later and it is no surprise this expansive work is positively brimming with an ocean of ideas, rooted in jazz, exceptionally crafted and boasting a myriad of musical pivots with a subtle but crucial production and synth touch by producer Tomer Baruch. Absolutely key to this new recording and Tal’s adult musical upbringing and education is the ongoing influence of saxophonist Abate Barihun, sometimes known as the Ethiopian John Coltrane who is an Ethiopian Jew who emigrated to Israel in 1999. Whilst he doesn’t feature directly on the record, Tal has long been mentored and stewarded by him and she affirms that “his inspiration continues to play a crucial role in my creative process.” And so, to the album’s title track Where Did you Go which oozes film- noir with Tal’s omnipresent Tizta sound using the Tezeta scales from Ethiopia dictating the mood whilst synths transcend and build an immersive soundscape something akin to Mulatu Astake jamming with the Fleet Foxes with Brian Eno-esque electronic manipulation. The Sandman project line up comprises of 5 core musicians with Tal Sandman on electric guitar, Tal Avraham playing trumpet, Tal Eyal on percussion, Noam Cherchie on drums and Ariel Harrosh on bass. Additional synth and organ provided by producer Tomer Baruch and guest vocalist Dafna Shilon joins on the album closer The Other Side. The group all live in Tel Aviv with Tal living in the Jaffa neighborhood for 12 years and the official birth-place of the Sandman Project. Jaffa is a diverse urban region where Arabs, Jews, Christians and many more live harmoniously together and it’s here where Tal has been active in building community ties and where she has recently started learning Arabic. The recent and shocking violence and war in Israel and Palestine has strengthened the bonds within the Jaffa community and a sense of unity and desire for peace has pervaded echoing Tal’s wish for peace, for real and imagined boundaries to dissolve and war and survival to be replaced with compassion and humanity. Jaffa is also Tal’s place of respite and spiritual place of being, where she returned to after significant musical and creative excursions to Goa in India (where she formed the Goa Afrobeat Band) and to London where she created a branch of the Sandman Project. Tal’s recent trip to Goa is effectively soundtracked on the album opener Karnataka, which borrows from the east, both the spirit and it’s drumming, inspired by a South Indian wedding ceremony. Trumpets and Tal’s incessant but measured guitar riffing using Indian scales transcends into a beautiful soundtrack of jazz and psychedelia energized with a propulsive funk. Temptation & Figs reverberates with a sly groove, an organ filled and chilled groove given a life affirming vibe with it repetitive and harmonized vocal pass building to a trumpet crescendo. The cine flavoured edge of Sandman Project goes wide screen on The X Files as bizarre electronic gurgling remiss of early BBC Radiophonic recordings intertwine with horn stabs and a percussion solo. Further vintage synth excursions repeat on Cauda Equina, with Tal’s heavy fretting giving the track a funk feel, and a dreamy one as the trumpet builds. Dafna Shilon’s entrance at the end of the album on The Other Side is unique in that it brings a skank to proceedings and is the only lyrical song from the collection. Six years in the waiting, and with plentiful personal and collective transformation giving Where Did You Go? a deeper sense of geography and global nuance, the new sound of Sandman Project is rich, porous and dreamy and essentially, full of hope.

Sonor Music Editions proudly presents this restored issue of Maestro Sandro Brugnolini's Overground. This elusive masterpiece in library music captures the most impressive work, alongside Underground (1970), of the Italian composer and alto sax player.

Sandro Brugnolini was a prominent member of the Modern Jazz Gang, a famous Italian jazz group, during the 1950s and 60s, which also included Amedeo Tommasi, Cicci Santucci, and Enzo Scoppa. The group was active from 1956 to 1965 and produced some remarkable albums such as Miles Before And After (1960) and the original soundtrack from Gli Arcangeli (1962), which featured the renowned American jazz singer, Helen Merrill. Subsequently, he recorded many of the genre's most iconic releases, including Feelings (1974), albeit uncredited, and ventured into Psychedelic Lounge Funk and Progressive Jazz Beat tunes.

Overground was released on Sincro Edizioni Musicali in 1970 as the soundtrack to Enrico Moscatelli and Mario Rigoni's documentary Persuasione, commissioned by Ente Provinciale Per Il Turismo Di Trento, a local tourism board in Italy, with music composed by Sandro Brugnolini and Luigi Malatesta featuring some of the best musicians in Italy at the time like Angelo Baroncini and Silvano Chimenti on guitars, Giorgio Carnini on piano and organ, Enzo Restuccia on drums, and Giovanni Tommaso on bass and effects. The music spans from underground Psychedelic Prog. Rock with swirling organs, trippy effects, and distorted fuzz guitars to sophisticated Lounge grooves with Avant-garde orchestrations.

The music has been transferred and remastered from the original master tapes. It has been lacquer cut in stereo by Jukka Sarapää at Timmion Cutting and packed in a thick cardboard sleeve featuring a fully restored painting by Umberto Mastroianni licensed by Centro Studi dell’Opera di Umberto Mastroianni.

Recorded in 1970 during the same period of "Overground", UNDERGROUND was recorded into 2 volumes (RT 104 and RT 16), both released in the same year in may and june at Dirmaphon studios, Roma. Together with Overground these records are really fascinating instrumental Free Jazzy/Psych Library, released with the auxiliary of historical Rai session musicians like guitarist Silvano Chimenti and organist Giorgio Carnini. This record collects all Underground' tracks in 1 LP. Established Jazz composer, Sandro Brugnolini written some among the greatest Italian soundtracks and Library music ever.

Giorgio Brugnolini (1931-2020) was a composer and saxophonist from Italy, known for his cult recordings under the name Narassa, who sadly passed away last year. This is the first analogue reissue of the obscure masterpiece "Utopia" released in 1972 on the library label Gemelli, on the prestigious soundtrack/library label Sonor Music Editions. The first official release since the maestro's passing, with excellent arrangements on Hammond and piano by Giorgio Carnini and direction by Franco Tamponi. A dreamy, underground mood, a rather dangerous one! A ton of great jazz-funk-lounge-jazz sessions, bursting with avant-garde jazz sophistication, orchestration, and gorgeous grooves.

Arriving as the hippy movement was discovering its peaceful easy '70s feelings, Sandy Harless' Songs LP is Chillicothe, Ohio's lone contribution to the Cosmic American Music movement. Financed from a 27-aquarium fish breeding business, the album shows its Appalachian roots with a tight weave of mountain folk, rural rock, and pastoral country. Real people music.

Propelled by his 1956 Lee Hazlewood-produced hit “The Fool,” Sanford Clark was already a rockabilly legend in his own right by the time he swapped his hair gel and switchblade for a pair of cowboy boots on They Call Me Country. Recorded between 1965-67 and originally released as a series of singles for Phoenix’s Ramco label, the 12 tracks on this LP borrow Bakersfield’s outlaw sound and ignore Nashville’s countrypolitan flair, standing as a true lost masterpiece of country music’s third generation. Clark’s booming baritone tells tales of bar fights, heartaches, and drinking til you can’t stand, while Waylon Jennings provides a backdrop of fuzzed out guitar twang. Mastered from the original session tapes and back on vinyl for the first time since the Nixon administration.

Sans Merit arrives on Knekelhuis with his second album Trolley Polly. A radiant album from currently LA-based Australian musician Griffin James, one that leans into unguarded joy with a playful, disarming sincerity. The album rocks right away into our world. Lifting off where the guitar pedals mash the gas and go. While at other moments the acoustic guitar passages carry a neofolk intimacy, like the low-voiced choir singer cast out of a pastoral world, left to wander in his own solitude. These moments are swept up by surging shoegaze episodes, slipping into hazy hypnagogic pop interludes and wiry post-punk turns, giving the record a restless, shifting pulse. Beneath it all lies a lyrical sensitivity that grounds the album’s movement. Sans Merit reflects on the big questions in a world that feels increasingly fragile, balancing vulnerability with a self-aware, gently naïve humor, while staying attuned to the emotional undercurrents of everyday life. It’s this perspective that makes Trolley Polly feel so human, alive in its contradictions, and quietly comforting.