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Soul Step Records Announces the Second Pressing of SSR-066!
Soul Step Records is proud to announce that the stone country classic album “Hell of a Woman” by Nashville-based Emily Nenni is coming to vinyl again after being out of print for years!
“Hell of a Woman” was released to critical acclaim in 2018. This album is a quintessential Nashville Stone Country record. This album is something that country purists will love.
“Hell of a Woman” is a record made for those who long for those smokey Nashville barrooms where the neon lights shine bright into the night and the pedal steel guitar rings loud.
Emily Nenni is a singer-songwriter from the Bay Area and recently set roots in Nashville, Tennessee. Emily’s musical inspirations range from the girl groups of the 1960’s to the outlaw Country of the 1970’s. Emily Nenni sang her first songs on stage at Robert’s Western World in Nashville by bribing the band and doorman with cookies. She has since honed her Honky-Tonk skills in double-wide trailers on Sunday nights, clubs across the south, as as well playing for ranchers and wranglers in Wyoming, Montana, and Colorado.
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An album such as this obviously owes a lot to the atmosphere in which it was recorded, which we can imagine was magical. We know it took place in Fromentel, Normandy, in a farm converted into a studio by the producer Jacques Denjean, known for his work with Dionne Warwick or Françoise Hardy as well as having been a member of the Double Six. It was also at Fromentel, that Denjean would record two fantastic albums with Albert Marcoeur. When Emmanuelle Parrenin followed in his footsteps a year later she was in good company: the sound engineer at the studio was her partner and therefore uniquely capable (we imagine) of creating an adequate soundscape for her delicate universe. What is more, five years previously, Bruno Menny, the sound engineer partner, recorded his first and only album, but what an album: in electroacoustic terms we can hear things which make him appear as the spiritual son of his mentor Xenakis!
What makes Maison Rose unique is exactly this fusion between the two conceptions of Emmanuelle Parrenin and Bruno Menny, creating a perfect marriage of tradition and experimentation. The tradition comes from the songs collected by Emmanuelle Parrenin in rural areas, in a similar vein to the work carried out by Alan Lomax and Shirley Collins. The experimentation is in the sound captured by Bruno Menny, who both arranged and recorded the album. This is not to forget those who came with their guitar (Denis Gasser), or their lyrics (no less a figure than Jean-Claude Vannier). On the one hand we have the humble and non-demonstrative singing, with melodies which remind us of songs we would sing to calm a child's nightmares, and on the other hand a pronounced rhythmic intensity at certain points, such as on "Topaze" where the drums in particular evoke the Motorik of Faust.
A real haven of peace, Maison Rose is enchanting with its aura of mystery and spirituality, with soft, gentle songs which seem both ancestral and futurist. Originally published by Ballon Noir in 1977, this album follows on from other folk marvels such as Le Galant noyé from the pre-Mélusine period.
On the subject of Maison Rose, if we had to risk a few comparisons we would mention Vashti Bunyan, Linda Perhacs, Joanna Newsom, Collie Ryan, Shirley Collins, Trees Community, Sourdeline and Véronique Chalot as those which spring spontaneously to mind. But this is too reductive for the timeless singularity of Emmanuelle Parrenin: because Maison Rose was recorded in 1977, in the midst of the punk revolution.
[Enji’s] return is spellbinding, her dreamy voice searching over tender piano and weighty double bass. - The Guardian on 'Ulbar'
For a few fleeting moments during a sunset, the sky is cast a vivid shade of amber. A dramatic flare of colour, a moment belonging to both the day and the night. It is within this vibrant, ephemeral world, that Mongolian-born, Munich-based Enji has written her new album Sonor.
Sonor is a record full of life and optimism, from an artist finding the beauty of existing between two worlds, much as a sunset does. Between the cultures of Mongolia and Germany, tradition and innovation, nostalgia and excitement for the future. Sonor is a musical journey marked by personal growth, introspection and acknowledgment of the bittersweet feeling of change.
Enji's life has been a tapestry woven with threads from diverse cultures. Born in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, she was immersed in the rich traditions of Mongolian folk music from a young age. Her early exposure to urtiin duu, or "long song", a traditional Mongolian singing style characterized by extended syllables and free-form melodies, instilled in her a deep appreciation for her cultural roots.
In 2014, Enji's musical journey took a transformative turn when she participated in a program at the Goethe-Institut in Ulaanbaatar. Here, under the guidance of German bassist Martin Zenker, she was introduced to the world of jazz. The improvisational nature and emotional depth of jazz resonated with her, leading her to pursue a master's degree in jazz singing at the University of Music and Theatre in Munich. This move marked the beginning of her life between cultures, as she navigated the landscapes of both her native Mongolia and her new home in Germany.
Sonor is a reflection of Enji's personal evolution and the complex emotions that accompany living between two worlds. The album's themes revolve around the unplaceable feeling of being between cultures, not as a source of conflict, but as a space for growth and self-discovery. Enji explores how distance from her traditional Mongolian roots has shaped her identity, and how returning home brings a heightened awareness of these changes.
With Sonor, Enji continues to evolve as an artist, expanding her sound into something more fluid and accessible. Whilst Enji’s musical foundations remain sturdy, with a band of world renowned jazz artists and all tracks on the record sung in Mongolian, save the obligatory standard ‘Old Folks’, Sonor leans into melody and storytelling with a newfound clarity, opening her music to a wider audience. It reflects not just a shift in style, but a deepening of her artistic voice, one that embraces accessibility without losing depth, allowing her songs to resonate on an even more universal level.
Despite being colourful and optimistic, the album is tinged with a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. This duality is perhaps best illustrated by track “Ulbar”, the Mongolian word for the colour the sky is cast during sunset. A phenomenon that is vibrant and beautiful, yet signifies the end of daylight and the transition into nighttime. Similarly, Enji's music captures the joy of new experiences and growth, while acknowledging that, as you go through life, previous experiences may no longer feel familiar.
On Sonor, Enji breathes new life into the traditional Mongolian song “Eejiinhee Hairaar” ("With My Mother’s Love"), a piece woven with nostalgia and quiet joy. She recalls how her father would hum the tune while fixing his bicycle back home in Mongolia, a simple, unremarkable moment that, in hindsight, radiates warmth and meaning. This image of music interlaced with everyday life, of melodies passed down through generations, encapsulates the spirit of Sonor. Enji isn’t just revisiting tradition, she’s distilling the feeling of home, of small joys that reveal their significance only when viewed from afar. Like a familiar song hummed by a parent, her music captures the essence of belonging, not tied to a single place, but to the emotions and memories that shape us.
Elsewhere on the record, tracks such as “Much” truly capture the melancholy of fleeting moments, still hopeful in tone, Enji’s vocals implore the listener to slow down and appreciate the passing seconds. On track “Ergelt”, Enji focuses the theme of the album through her own lens, a meditation on nostalgia and shifting familiarity, with translated lyrics capturing this duality: “A gaze full of happiness saddens me / When I try to speak my sorrow, no words come to me / Unfamiliar, yet somehow known”
Sonor is enriched by the contributions of Enji's collaborators. Elias Stemeseder is an Austrian pianist and composer known for his work in contemporary jazz and avant-garde music. Stemeseder has previously collaborated with musicians such as John Zorn and Christian Lillinger. Robert Landfermann is a German double bassist widely recognized in European jazz and improvised music circles. His playing is characterized by technical virtuosity and a deep sense of rhythm. Julian Sartorius is a Swiss drummer and percussionist with a highly textural and rhythmic approach to his instrument. His work spans jazz, electronic, and experimental music. Whilst long time collaborator Paul Brändle is a German jazz guitarist with a warm, fluid style that blends classic jazz influences with modern sensibilities.
Enji's previous work has garnered international attention and critical acclaim. Her 2023 album, Ulaan, was praised by The Guardian as "An elegant and powerful twist on traditional Mongolian music," highlighting her ability to innovate within her cultural framework.
Her unique blend of jazz and Mongolian folk has also been recognized by The Washington Post, which noted that her songs "sound so inventive, so free, yet so grounded." This balance has become a hallmark of Enji's music, earning her a place among the most intriguing voices in contemporary jazz.
With Sonor, Enji invites listeners to join her on a journey through the landscapes of her experiences, bridging cultures, embracing change and finding beauty in the transitions that define our lives. Her music serves as a reminder that, like the sunset, moments of change can be both beautiful and poignant.
As she continues to navigate her path between Mongolia and Germany, tradition and innovation, Enji's Sonor stands as a testament to the enriching experience of living between worlds and the art that emerges from embracing one's multifaceted identity.
This is just sublime: Stroom & Hessel Veldman illuminate 13 unreleased gems by a sacred figure of ‘80s DIY Dutch tape music, nestling deeply precious, noctilucent synth works for lovers of BoC, Eno & Harmonia, Vangelis, Tangerine Dream & Klaus Schulze, Dominique Lawalrée...
Trust the Lowlands standard bearers at Stroom to pluck this quietly breathtaking bouquet from behind the ear of DIY synth and ambient music history. Adding to prized reissues of Enno Velthuys’ work over the past decade - from albums to songs secreted on comps for LSD and Light in the Attic - ‘Music From the Other Side of the Fence’ helps fill gaps in the patchy knowledge of his cultish catalogue 1975-1990. While the label are being typically, poetically playful with background info, a crudely educated guess can assign pieces to recordings that made up his four cassettes issued 1982-1987, but it’s better taken as a lovingly sequenced overview of his harmonious short stories, each riddled with an exquisite atmospheric magick that tiles up to an adorable portrait of the troubled artist.
If memory serves, it was a pair of LSD comps that first anonymously seeded Velthuys’ ohrwurms ‘Blue Heron’ & ‘The Day After’ to our lugs, at least, and it wasn’t until a reissue of their motherships ‘Landscapes in Thin Air’ (1985) & ‘Different Places’ (1987) that things began to fall in place. A slightly broader picture now emerges via this new raft of signature, woozy arabesques and powdered ambient pads threaded with a feel for extended melody that ties it all off with a ribbon bow. A solitary, melancholic presence guides from the frosted carillon of ’Something Special’ thru the reedy romance of ‘Uplands (Unplugged Alt Version 2)’, sashaying to types of aerial waltz in ‘Underneath a Dark Sky’ and slowed, Vangelisian brass fanfare with ‘Moonlight Serenade’ that surely shiver nostalgic timbers with an evocative, tongue-tip timbre that tickles places others don’t reach.
100% no brainer for hopeless ambient synth romantics and introverts.
A bridge between generations of ambient exploration, this split release unites two artists connected through mood, texture, and introspection: Enno Velthuys, the late Dutch composer and visual artist whose melancholic ambient works defined a quiet corner of the 1980s cassette underground and Paul Riedl, best known as the creative force behind visionary metal band BLOOD INCANTATION, who here reveals a parallel world of deep ambient sound. Together, these recordings form a contemplative journey across aesthetics: a meeting of two artists who, though separated by time, share a commitment to sound as emotional architecture.
Velthuys’s contributions are drawn from the EXART vaults and carefully selected by Hessel Veldman to serve as an appetizer for an upcoming LP of more unreleased material on Stroom Records. Across four cassettes, Velthuys crafted a deeply personal sound - minimal, dreamlike and steeped in solitude - that would later come to be recognized as a cornerstone of European ambient music. The pieces presented here continue that fragile lineage: meditative, intimate and quietly transcendent.
Flipping over the record, melancholy turns into total darkness and time seems to stand still. Massive slabs of sound and tar-coated melodies emerge from the depths. In contrast yet in harmony, Riedl’s side of the album presents archival recordings that explore a fascination with cosmic sound and isolation. While known for exploring the outer reaches of metal, Riedl has long been devoted to ambient and experimental composition. His selections for this release, curated to complement the music of Velthuys, trace a dialogue between decades and sensibilities, blending analog warmth and deep atmospherics with a sense of timeless drift.
Reissued for the first time ever the debut album of the Jamaican singer/producer, releasesd in 1983 for Soul Beat records. An ultra rare album recorded at Joe Gibb’s studio with a great band: Sly& Robbie, Earl Chinna Smith, Winston Wright and more… All tracks remastered for the first time!
The Buenos Aires–based producer’s second album on Umor Rex can be read on at least two levels. The most direct traces its origin to the influence of environmental music, as well as to some pioneers of electronic music. The album was recorded in a single session, making extensive use of loops that were later edited and condensed into the six pieces that make up Pequeño clima doméstico. This working method responds to a playful approach that runs through Entidad Animada’s musical intentions, which often start from a specific genre or aesthetic and then filter it through his own language. From a more conceptual perspective, the record proposes music as a tool capable of modifying the perception of a moment. Rather than closed songs, the album functions as a device that allows one to tune a state, transform a space, or alter a mood. In this sense, it engages with the idea of functional music not as a utilitarian background, but as a means to equalize time, slow the pace, and reconfigure the listener’s emotional climate.
“When the mbira is played, it brings the two worlds together, the world of our ancestors and the world of today.” Ephat Mujuru (1950-2001)
Ephat Mujuru exemplifies a unique generation of traditional musicians in Zimbabwe. Born under an oppressive colonial regime in Southern Rhodesia, his generation witnessed the brutality of the 1970s liberation struggle, and then the dawn of independent Zimbabwe, a time in which African music culture—long stigmatized by Rhodesian educators and religious authorities—experienced a thrilling renaissance.
Ephat was raised in traditional Shona culture in a small rural village in Manicaland, near the Mozambique border. His grandfather and primary caretaker, Muchatera Mujuru, was a respected spirit medium, and master of the mbira dzavadzimu, a hand-held lamellophone used in Shona religion to make contact and receive council from deceased ancestors. There are many lamellophones in Africa, but none with the musical complexity and spiritual significance of the mbira dzavadzimu. Ephat’s first memories were of elaborate ceremonies, called biras that featured all-night music and dancing, millet beer, the sacrifice of oxen and a profound experience of connecting with ancestors. Under the tutelage of his grandfather, Ephat showed an early talent for the rigors of mbira training, playing his first possession ceremony when he was just ten years old.
But from the moment he entered school, Ephat experienced Rhodesian racism and cultural oppression. Nuns at his Catholic school told him that to play the mbira was “a sin against God.” Enraged by this, Ephat’s grandfather sent him to school in an African township near the capital of Salisbury (present-day Harare). By then, guerilla war was engulfing the country and Muchatera tragically became a victim of the violence, a devastating blow to the young musician. Lonely and alienated in the city, Ephat reached out to other mbira masters—Mubayiwa Bandambira, Simon Mashoko and an “uncle” Mude Hakurotwi.
In 1972 Ephat formed his first group, naming it for one of the most beloved Shona ancestors, Chaminuka. In the midst of the liberation struggle, mbira music became political. Singer and bandleader Thomas Mapfumo began interpreting mbira songs with an electric dance band, creating chimurenga (loosely “struggle”) music, named for the independence fighters.
Ephat and Chaminuka had their first success with the single “Guruswa.” Ephat once recalled, “We were talking about our struggle to free ourselves,” explained Ephat. “In ancient Africa, in the time of our ancestors, they had none of the problems we have today.” The problems he spoke of—subjugation, cultural oppression and mass poverty—were purely the results of colonization. “We wanted the place to be like it was, before colonization.”
The Rhodesians were defeated, but rather than return to the past, the nation of Zimbabwe was born and a new future unfolded. Ephat threw himself into the spirit of independence, helping to found the National Dance Company of Zimbabwe and becoming the first African music instructor at the formerly all-Western Zimbabwe College of Music. Ephat renamed his band Spirit of the People and recorded his first album in 1981, using only mbira, hand drums, hosho and singers. He sang of brotherhood, healing, and unity: crucial themes during a time when the nation’s two dominant ethnic groups, the Shona and the Ndebele, were struggling to reconcile differences.
Ephat’s band would eventually follow the popular trend and add electric instruments. But before that, he and Spirit of the People released two all-acoustic albums, and they may well be the most exciting and beautiful recordings he made in his career. Mbavaira, the second of these albums, was released in 1983. The title itself is not easy to translate. A Shona speaker with deep cultural knowledge observed that he could not find an exact English counterpart, but that it was “something like ‘chaos.’”
Mbavaira came out on Gramma Records, the country’s only label at the time. Gramma was still finding its way in a vastly changed music market. Guitar bands were ascendant and lots of new talent was emerging. As the independence years moved on, there would be fewer and fewer commercial mbira releases. But for the moment, Ephat had the required stature and reputation. Also, with the energy and drive we hear in these recordings, the album could easily rival the pop music of its day.
Ephat had long since mastered a large repertoire of traditional mbira songs and developed his own approach to arranging them. He had also become a gifted composer, although, with mbira music, it is often hard to draw a clear line between arranging and composing. Certain mbira pieces are like the 12-bar blues form or the “I Got Rhythm” changes in jazz: one can always create a new song from the existing template. But when you listen to Ephat’s feisty refrain on the song “Kwenda Mbire” (“Going to Mbire”), you just know it came from him. Ephat was a small, almost elfin, man, but he had the most exuberant personality and it comes through with particular clarity on that track.
An mbira ensemble typically uses at least two mbiras, playing separate interlocking parts so that it can be difficult to tell who is playing what. The sound becomes one. The only required percussion is the gourd rattle called hosho. It plays a very specific triplet rhythm and it has to be strong and solid to ensure that the mbira parts line up perfectly. Otherwise, the spirit will not come! The call-and-response vocals are also distinctive, a mix of hums and cries and melodic refrains, often punctuated by joyous ululations.
The tonality of a song like “Mudande” is moody, even a little dark. But the melodies that emerge have a remarkable way of turning wistfulness into merriment. The song title means “in Dande,” Dande being a remote northern region in Zimbabwe known for its inhospitable climate and deeply entrenched traditional culture.
Mbira is a healing music. Ephat once recalled, “When I was with Bandambira and Simon Mashoko, I was very surprised at what really made them happy. My grandfather was a very happy person. They had respect.” Ephant contrasted this happiness with the sour demeanor of the whites who condescended to him in Salisbury in his youth. “Somebody who wants to suppress another person is very unhappy.”
Within a few years after the release of Mbavaira, it and albums like it became harder to find in Zimbabwean record stores. Ephat adapted to the times and formed an electric band. “People were surprised,” he recalled. “They said, ‘Are you not going to play your mbira the way you did before?’ I said, I haven't changed anything. It's like me learning Shona and English, or French or Japanese. It's adding to the knowledge. The old one doesn't go away. When you buy a new jacket, you don't throw the old one away.” And indeed, when he began frequenting the UK and the United States, he would record more, mostly acoustic, albums.
But none of them have the particularly delicious energy of Spirit of the People in the first years of Zimbabwe’s independence. The final track on Mbavaira is a popular Shona hunting song, “Nyama Musango,” literally “Meat in the forest.” As elsewhere, Ephat does not sing the lead, leaving that role to his razor-voiced uncle, Mude Hakurotwi, with his mastery of timbres and rich repertoire of traditional vocables.
It was a tragedy to lose Ephat in 2001. He died from a heart attack shortly after landing at Heathrow Airport, en route to teach and perform in the U.S.. No doubt, he had much more to offer, for as he liked to say, “Mbira is like a sea. It's not a small river. You are getting into the big sea. So I try to show them the Indian Ocean, the Pacific, the Atlantic. What I'm trying to bring now to this music, through all the experiences I've had, is unity.” True unity has been difficult to achieve in Zimbabwe, given its combative history, but if anything could do the trick, this music might be the thing.
Banning Eyre
Senior Producer for Afropop Worldwide
The first collaboration between Japanese noise titan Masami Akita, aka Merzbow, iconic Brazilian drummer and producer Iggor Cavalera and forward-thinking Italian guitarist and sound designer Eraldo Bernocchi, 'Nocturnal Rainforest' terraforms a sonic landscape that's almost overpoweringly dense and disorienting, but never aggressive or chaotic. It's a fully immersive experience that re-contextualizes the trio's years of work in extreme experimental music by concentrating on texture, atmosphere and sensory overload. The noise itself is used to provoke a refined level of focus; 'Nocturnal Rainforest' is mediative in its own way, enveloping listeners with waves of distortion, phantasmic unmetered rhythms and perplexing processed field recordings, but it's not intended for passive listening. Made using a fusion of bespoke techniques the trio have been developing for decades, it exists in a raw and mystifying liminal zone between the organic realm and the digital world - a place that's too hauntingly familiar to be ignored. One of the world's most notorious and most prolific noise artists, Akita has release acclaimed genre-defining albums on labels as diverse as Relapse, Important Records, Tzadik, Cold Spring and Soleilmoon, and collaborated with a diverse spread of artists, from Keiji Haino and Mika Patton to Melt-Banana and Boris. Since 1979, he's released over 500 Merzbow records, including 1984's tape experiment 'Pornoise/1kg Vol.1', 1996's noise wall milestone 'Pulse Demon' and 2005's dubby 'Merzbuddha'. Meanwhile, Cavalera is best known for co-founding Brazilian metal act Sepultura, and since leaving the band in 2006, he's been constantly re-examining his relationship with underground experimental music, working alongside artists like Laima Leyton, Ninos Du Brasil, Raven Chacon, Linekraft, Petbrick, Pig Destroyer, Soulwax, Dwid Hellion, Shane Embury, amongst others. Bernocchi started his journey in the '70s playing in various punk bands, and came of age in the '80s when he co-founded post-industrial collective Sigillum S and making connections that stretched across the entire global underground. An active member of the influential illbient movement, he worked with some of the genre's crucial figures such as Spectre, Bill Laswell and DJ Olive, recording for WordSound as well as cult hip-hop imprint Rawkus. And Bernocchi has continued to innovate, working as SIMM with Grammy-winning grime MC Flowdan and recording with Harold Budd, Cocteau Twins' Robin Guthrie, Gaudi Nils Petter Molvaer, Hoshiko Yamane and many others. 'Nocturnal Rainforest' is a product of each artist's ongoing musical evolution, powered by extreme music but tempered by deep listening techniques that expect presence rather than dissociation. On 'Swietnenia Macrophylla', evocative humid soundscapes provide a precarious sense of security at first, blurred at the edges by purring oscillations that mimic the jungle's fauna. And that peace is quickly ruptured by percussive, foghorn-like distortions that mark out the scale of the trio's vision. Not just raw noise, the rougher elements are cut with subtle waves of billowing ambience and muggy low- end drones before the track launches into a symphony of computerized stutters. There's a constant push and pull between organic and artificial sounds - before there's been time to acclimatize to the DAW-corrupted noise, collaged tape saturations and slashed amplifier hum muddies the atmosphere, purposefully confusing the senses and obfuscating the sources. And the thought is continued on 'Ceiba Pentandra' when the trio follow the jungle's teeming sonics with growling, whirring electronics and dense interference. What starts as birdsong and an choir of insects mutates into a wall of deafening, transcendent full-spectrum texture that cracks open like a slow-moving storm over a shadowy wilderness.
