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The late percussionist Milford Graves was one of the most unique artists the world has ever seen. Born in Jamaica, Queens in 1941, he began his career in the early '60s as a part of New York's vibrant Latin jazz scene. His focus quickly turned inward, shifting towards a practice that explored the very nature of self. From his work in the New York Art Quartet and collaborations with Albert Ayler, Sonny Sharrock and more to his important contributions during NYC's loft era – he is, simply put, free jazz royalty. In April 1966, the duo of Graves and pianist Don Pullen played at Yale University. As John Corbett writes in the liner notes, "This performance was something of a turning point for Graves. Until then he had been working in other people's bands or collective ensembles. He was phenomenally busy. In 1965 alone, he recorded with NYAQ (two LPs), Giuseppi Logan Quartet, Paul Bley Quintet and Lowell Davidson Trio, and he made his first recording released under his own name, Percussion Ensemble. Every one of these is important in its own way, but none of them quite anticipate how radical was the music that he and Pullen would unleash that evening in New Haven." Originally released on the artists' own Self-Reliance Program label, this legendary one-night performance would be split into two volumes: In Concert At Yale University and Nommo. While rooted in African rhythms, Graves' music has its own sense of time. As the drummer stated in a 1966 DownBeat interview, "Time was always there, and the time I see is not the same as what man says time is. It works by impulsion." First-time vinyl reissue. Sourced from the original master tapes.

Miller Anderson is a guitarist and vocalist, born on April 12, 1945, in Houston, Renfrewshire, Scotland. Since cutting his musical teeth in bands with Ian Hunter (pre-Mott the Hoople) and Bill Bruford (pre-King Crimson and Yes), Anderson has been a member of such bands as the Keef Hartley Band, Savoy Brown, T. Rex, Mountain, the Spencer Davis Group, and in groups led by Deep Purple's Jon Lord and folk-rock balladeer Donovan. His 1971 debut Bright City was released on the legendary Deram, sub-label of Decca that released new records from 1966 onwards for the likes of Moody Blues, Caravan, Camel and several british jazz-rock legends. The album is a brilliant example of modern folk with lush strings arrangements thanks to guitarist and producer William ‘Junior’ Campbell, leader of the Scottish pop-rock group The Marmalade. A brilliant songwriting alongside a pastoral feeling, gentle melodies and a solid background with several amazing players literally bridging the gap between contemporary pop and blues. Harold Beckett (John Surman, Graham Collier) on flugelhorn and Lyn Dobson (The Keef Hartley Band, The People Band, Third Ear Band) on flute were literally stalwarts of the british jazz-rock and experimental scene, their contributions is behind greatness. Same with keyboard player Mick Weaver another Keef Hartley alumni. The album - faithfully remastered - offers a vision of urban Scotland with a bluesy feel and it has to be ranked alongside the work of such luminaries as Donovan or Nick Drake.

The next chapter in Axis' Expressionist Series, a collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions. ""Tear Drop Nebula" is a different version - "Tear Drop Nebula (The Octagon Mix)," and was released in Every Dog Has Its Day vol. 7 in 2020. "Rationalizing our place amongst the Stars" is a referendum. As Millsart says: "Neo Tantric Parts is about high premium thought processes about simplicity and oneness. Diagnostic in the way it blends time, rhythm and harmony together as a proposal to consider placement in this moment of time.""

Bastian Epple makes an eagerly anticipated return to marionette under his elusive MinaeMinae guise that imagines rich sonic architectures for the journeying spirit to voyage to. Räumlichkeit is Epple’s debut album and third release to date following Gestrüpp from 2020, venturing further into melodic electronic nostalgia and percussive beat oriented soundscapes. Spanning fifteen vignettes that trapeze through uncharted winding trails and familiar spaces, the album’s recordings evoke a scenic state of mind. The tracks simulate a room or nested rooms where the breathtaking views of nature and contrasting brutalist structures are explored with an equal sense of curiosity and wonder. Taking the listener down unpredictable paths that are rooted within the music itself, Epple is as much present in the creation as the listening experience which gives the recordings an immediacy and a live element of unfolding before your ears, unfamiliar each time. This novel viewpoint is very much at the core of Räumlichkeit, poetically contemplating the concept of spatiality and how that, in turn, influences the receiving of those fleeting moments. Apart from the world building qualities of the recordings, it's the speed of travel that also impacts the perception of the journey, and Epple tends to manipulate time at a fully immersive rate that grips the mind and body.

On this seven track album we hear MinaeMinae (alias Bastian Epple) playfully scurry through his dense soundscapes on a tightrope. The sounds lying somewhere on the crossroads of psychedelic trance, exotica, ambient and melodic dance music – veering further off orbit with nontypical rhythms and dystopian percussive patterns.

MinaeMinae understands musical material similar to documentary footage which he would cut up, repitch, and rearrange freely. Most of his tracks are a mix of analog, synthetic sounds and recordings of ethnic percussion and guitar. Recently Bastian began experimenting with modular synthesis and self made tape echoes - seeking a more reduced and minimal composition style compared to his earlier quite whimsical tunes.

Growing up in a small village in southern Germany, Bastian was never interested in kitschy folk sounds that everyone would mindlessly clap and sing along to, rather he took solace in the time he would spend delving into patterns and repetitions that pleased him. His guitar strumming and what sounded to his mother like a young Philip Glass on a cheap Casio keyboard encouraged little Epple to continue on this self-taught path of developing his musical language. He then started to experiment with a tape recorder and layering sounds with non-musical samples, which his former village friends found too weird – then to eventually working with a small freeware DAW. Bastian went on to study Media Art at the Center for Art and Media (ZKM) in Karlsruhe – initially enrolled in music but the frustration and doubt of not being able to produce the music he wanted led him into film and documentary media. During his studies, Bastian was living with Florian Meyers (Don’t DJ) for several years where they would philosophize life and music into the wee hours – he encouraged Bastian to start sharing what he’s been quietly working on all these years and slowly emerge from this anonymity which eventually led to his first release on Human Pitch last fall.

Disproportionate forms, color changes, backdrops weaved into the foreground, all lay the dense earth for Gestrüpp through Benjamin Kilchhofer’s artwork.

Minami Deutsch 3rd full studio album "Fortune Goodies" "Everyone has their own imagination about outer space, and each one us gets to daydream about what exactly floats or exists there. ‘Fortune Goodies’ is Minami Deutsch’s long-awaited 3rd studio album. While not all the songs on the record function as straightforward Krautrock this time around, they still manage to capture the spirit and heart of the genre. After relocating from Tokyo to Berlin, Miula’s musical vocabulary has greatly expanded, thus resulting in this ultimate Japanese take on cosmic music in 2022.”

Minami Deutsch is back at it again with their latest LP "With Dim Light". Whilst softening their sound and cushioning the blow, you can expect a more profound diversity in their sound, whilst retaining the principle ingredients that make Minami Deutsch so great such as their signature fuzz, thumping bass and dream like vocals. There is a heavier experimentation in regards to genre exploration. With hints of post punk and nods to late 60s psychedelic rock, this shows that Minami Deutsch is willing to push musical boundaries further whilst retaining a clever songwriting ability to achieve this album Minami Deutsch is back at it again with their latest LP "With Dim Light". Whilst softening their sound and cushioning the blow, you can expect a more profound diversity in their sound, whilst retaining the principle ingredients that make Minami Deutsch so great such as their signature fuzz, thumping bass and dream like vocals. There is a heavier experimentation in regards to genre exploration. With hints of post punk and nods to late 60s psychedelic rock, this shows that Minami Deutsch is willing to push musical boundaries further whilst retaining a clever songwriting ability to achieve this album

Tracked in 1977, this bundle of never-before-released basement demos throw Harris’ beloved Philadelphia Sound into an unfinished root cellar, pelting it with Clavinet attacks, disco skats, and infectious hooks. Named for the street address of its underground uptown genesis, 1514 Oliver Avenue (Basement) is James “Jimmy Jam” Harris’ first foray into songcraft and an organic Minneapolis-vintage alternative to a late ’70s Prince songbook gone increasingly synthetic.

** 1st pressing- restricted to 1500 units **An unbelievable post-punk shuffler from 1981, by Tel-Aviv-Brussels band Minimal Compact! This tune is one of our favorite tracks ever and we've been wanting to reissue it since day one. But this is no ordinary reissue! The 12'' includes an unreleased instrumental version plus a spaced-out extended dub mix by the living legend, Mad Professor! Killer stuff as ever from the Fortuna Records crew!!!

Minnie Riperton's first album was released in 1971 while she was still a member of Rotary Connection, and was produced by Charles Stepney, who later worked with EW&F and Terry Callier. The album was produced by Charles Stepney, who was also a member of Rotary Connection and later worked on the albums of EW&F and Terry Callier.

Mioclono started at the end of 2016 when Oriol Riverola and Arnau Obiols did their first recording session at Angel Sound Studios in Barcelona, assisted by engineer Miquel Mestres. This became a tradition and they kept doing these recording sessions every end of the year. The present album is the result of the first recording session in 2016 and during the following months, the duo met up several times and over-dubbed those early recordings. Later it was mixed and mastered later on by Gordon Pohl in Düsseldorf, Germany. The project is named Mioclono because both Arnau and Oriol had been diagnosed with epilsepsy, a neurological disorder that affects the electrical activity in the brain. Given this coincidence, their moniker takes the name in Spanish of myoclonus. Ilustration of the front and back covers by Helga Juárez Inner sleeves and labels design by Guillermo Lucenas

Mirror" is the legendary unit. the dawn of acoustic drone in the late 90's. They have played with Jim O'Rourke and Andreas Martin. Mirror" is a unit of Andrew Chalk, a British sound craftsman who has been creating his own unique sound world that transcends both ambient and drone, and Christoph Heemann, a German sound craftsman who is well known for his work with H.N.A.S. and Mimir. This year's important release will feature two of Heemann's closest allies, Vikki Jackman and Timo van Luijk, who will join him for this year's release. Recorded at the renowned jazz club Loft, Cologne, Germany. Artwork by Andrew Chalk. The album is a compilation of their work, and is released at a turning point in their career. The slow, space-time distortion characteristic of the duo's peak period is accompanied by a solitary drone that can be described as their quintessential style.

Miša Blam’s - Sećanja (Memories), one of the most sought of, rarest and cult ex-Yugoslavian jazz LP’s - is finally reissued, sourced and fully licensed straight from vaults of Jugodisk (Belgrade, Serbia). And where better than on the Everland’s Everland-Yu imprint dedicated to the unheard sound of Yugoslavia! This LP, kept tight in private ex-Yu collectors cabinets and championed by jazz dance DJ’s across the planet, was recorded in 1979 and released in only 1000 copies in 1980 by the Beograd Disk label. The LP is filled with jazz-funk, bop styles, latin jazz and even Gospel live recordings by the Golden gate quartet (recorded by Miša himself) all accompanied by the crème de la crème of Yugoslavia’s jazz-funk instrumentalists at the time (Jelenko Milaković, Lazar Tošić, Stjepko Gut, Jovan Maljoković, Josip boček…). Miša Blam (1947 - 2014) was an influential Serbian jazz composer, arranger, publicist, festival organizer and Radio-Television Belgrade’s long-time collaborator (jazz and folk orchestras, recording engineer, music director…). But Miša was first and foremost a bass player! Having played with numerous worldwide famous jazz cats he often talked of his work in the Chet Baker - Sal Nistico trio while living in New York and playing with them for two years (or rather bailing Sal out of prison or buying off Chet’s trumpet on his behalf from the pawn shop). The album perhaps represents an unusual collection of songs mostly composed by Miša Blam himself during his world wide spanning jazz pursuits in the 70’s. Unusual for it does not stand alone as a cohesive album release but as a collection of works that we were lucky to be rewarded with in his very sparse discography consisting of: one EP, this LP and one cassette tape… Finally this collection showcases what was Miša all about – and that was jazz bass in all its marvelous forms – from lacing dreamy ballads with his impeccable upright bass fiddle play to grooving on his fender bass on the jazz-funk monster Sećanje which could be included on any acid jazz compilation of the 90s (check out Balkan Express...). Masterfully executed and kept to its original sound this release will keep your ears busy and open to the sound of ex Yugoslavian jazz and the sound of unheard Yugoslavia – where-else but on Everland-Yu! Dr. Smeđi Šećer, 2021

Misha Sultan is a multi-instrumentalist originally from Novosibirsk in the heart of Siberia. His hometown's location, in the hinterlands between Europe and Asia provides a deep well of inspiration for his music. Hive Mind have been happy to work with Misha to bring you this stunning collection of recordings made between 2015 and 2022 which we hope will serve as a great introduction to Misha's unique sound which appropriates elements of Eurasian folk music, psychedelia, 90's chill-out, breakbeat, dub, and field recording to produce something stunning and singular. Whilst we were working on this release P*t*n invaded Ukraine and Misha was forced to leave the country quite suddenly. All money from sales of the digital album will go straight to the artist in order to help through this difficult time.

French guitarist Mischa Fitzgerald Michel, who studied under Jim Hall, covers the genius SSW Nick Drake, who died young, on this 2012 release. A hidden masterpiece revived in the modern era with unparalleled beauty, refined harmonies and proper interpretation.

West Mineral return with a followup to Mister Water Wet’s 2019's subtropical ambient slow-burn debut ‘Bought the Farm’, expanding Iggy Romeu's horizons to contrast feverish Afro-Caribbean ambient jazz with jaunty illbient and atmospheric freakouts. Low-lit heat that’s highly recommended if yr into Nick León, Carlos Niño, Kelman Duran, Gonçalo F. Cardoso. Mister Water Wet continues to excavate the tropical soundscapes that simmer the producer's Kansas City home with his Puerto Rican roots, on a new album of extended vignettes and mood pieces that cross a late 90’s Mo Wax instrumentals vibe with present day feelings of displacement and ennui. LP opener ‘Bory’ tunes us into Water Wet’s weirdly fuzzed frequencies, where tremeloed strings and found sounds resemble what might have been a lost dean blunt x dean hurley sound design concept for Inland Empire, while ‘I Saw the Green Flash' opens a swirl of strings and traditional rhythms caught in a reflecting pool of canned classical orchestrals and 1950s theremin wails. 'Good Apple’, meanwhile, cranks up the mood with aged x looped piano paired with an undulating, bass-heavy shuffle that wouldn't sound out of place on a Kelman Duran x Martin Denny mixtape. 'When Kennybrook Burned to the Ground' leans into heady jazz vapours, spreading crackle over pitch-fucked horn samples, but it’s the producer's weird use of percussion that keeps us gripped: scattering his arrangements across the grid, mimicking an ensemble of players deployed in irregular formations. Romeu embraces trip-hop on 'Any Other Time', blending Afro-Caribbean percussion with a swung downtempo beat, while ‘Isthmus’ reminds us of the clatterbox plunder of Moonshake’s PJ Harvey hookup ‘Just a Working Girl’ - with all its asymmetric hooks. The extended closing track 'Losing Blood' takes a leaf out of Fennesz's glitched rulebook, stretching and folding disintegrating loops through an 11 minute descent into the elegiac aether.

Following releases on West Mineral and Lillerne Tapes, Iggy Romeu’s inimitable Mister Water Wet project makes its Soda Gong debut. “Top Natural Drum” feels like a double entendre ode to digging culture, drawing equally from the plantlife in the dirt and the grooves in the stacks. Tracks like opener “Soak” concoct a haze of resonant ceramic/wooden percs, skittering drum programming, and addictive yet diffuse melodic and harmonic textures. Dusty-fingered nodders like “Caged at Last”, “Classicfit,” and “Gossamer Hits Softly Spun” harken back to the glory days of instrumental hiphop and downtempo, sounding a bit like transmissions from some lost Landspeed Records or Mo’ Wax comp, or like field recordings from the courtyard at Scribble Jam that have been infused with the slippery sonic signatures and sleights of hand that define MWW productions. What links these two distinctive tonal registers is a sort of lingering warmth – warmth like the saturation of natural dye or sunlight on a brisk, clear Midwestern autumn day.

Is this recording an environmental activist art statement or ambient spa music? Maybe both? The fourth release from São Paulo label Lugar Alto is not a Brazilian production but it still has strong ties to the country, it is the psychotomimetically heuristic ambience of The Dreambird by Mitar Subotić (Suba) & Goran Vejvoda. The album was produced in Paris in 1987 and 5 years later was the first release by Suba in Brazil as a limited edition CD put out by the Brazilian Catholic label Paulinas COMEP. Listening to The Dreambird is a deeply immersive organic experience. It is ambient music that actually integrates with your environment. Bird calls and shrieks intertwining with lush synth tones, imagine late seventies Tangerine Dream in a tropical hothouse while sliding into a floatation tank located in the Amazon, an environment of rich and strange sounds. The Dreambird harks back to a time when environmental recordings were being discovered as forms of music, as David Toop writes in his book Exotica “... some recordists stuck to the idea of birdsong as music, a notion that is surely as old as music itself”. The album was made while Goran Vejvoda was living in Paris. Relaxed days were spent sitting around, tinkering with sounds, going out, having lunch, coming back and playing some more. Pascal Humbert, bass player from the French band Passion Fodder, joined the duo for a day. Goran had a Japanese field recording CD called Bird Island Seychelles that contained the exotic bird sounds and sea waves used to create the organic textures of the album. Suba left with the 8-track tapes and rough mix cassettes and adapted the music for a sound art installation/happening by the Danube in Novi Sad where The Dreambird was played, climaxing with a laser show. In the early nineties Suba moved to Brazil, and together with André Geraissati, was one of the producers of Nina Maika, an album by the Brazilian musician, Edson Natale. The album was recorded at the COMEP studio, renowned at the time for having one of the best audio production structures found in Brazil. Edson and Suba got on well with the studio crew and in 1992 proposed the simultaneous release of Sol de Inverno, an album by Edson Natale and Alex Braga, and The Dreambird. In return, COMEP provided studio hours for them to use on further projects. Suba used these hours for the production of Memória Mundi (otherwise known as Oharaska), an extensive musical project that he worked on with influential percussionist João Parahyba, but which was never finished. From this project the track “A Fábula”, with the participation of the singer Natália Barros, came out on the compilation from the Music From Memory label, Outro Tempo II. According to João, Suba managed to convince the nuns who ran the label that The Dreambird was a recording for meditation, which may have caused him to adapt the name and “conception” of the album, adding another intriguing facet to this production. The Dreambird was actually only known by that name in Brazil as the record was never actually intended to be public. The names of the tracks released back then were different from those used on this release, which are taken from the masters maintained by Vladimir Ivković. Moreover, the tracks released on the CD in Brazil were shortened and only 4 of the 6 original tracks were on the CD. This release contains the 4 tracks released in Brazil in their original full-length form, plus the two never released tracks that are available exclusively in digital format. Included as a bonus are Goran Vejvoda’s liner notes translated into French, German, Serbian and Portuguese. New artwork, with drawings by Arthur Longo, a French snowboarder and artist, was commissioned for the album and was conceived by the design studio Sometimes Always, who have worked with Lugar Alto since their first release. Mitar Subotić aka Rex Illusivii aka Suba, was born in 1961 in Yugoslavia. A renowned innovator in his home country but is best known in Brazil for his 1999 CD São Paulo Confessions, a hugely important release that effortlessly walked the line between modern MPB and 90s electronica, influencing a whole generation of Brazilian music makers. Tragically, he died just after it was released and could never benefit from its critical acclaim and success. The Dreambird was recorded in Paris one year before “In the moon cage”, a similar project using the pseudonym Rex Illusivi. This was a recording of exuberant synth scapes, ambient guitar and Yugoslavian folk which was awarded the International Fund for Promotion of Culture from UNESCO, and included a three-month scholarship to research Afro-Brazilian rhythms in Brazil. The album was released in 2015 by Ivković’s Offen Music. In 1994 Suba resuscitated his Serbian band, Angel’s Breath, with Milan Mladenović, and it became a psychedelic samba-rock project with a line-up of Brazilian musicians including João Parahyba and Fabio Golfetti, there were also contributions from Taciana Barros and, implausibly, eventual soap-opera star, Marisa Orth. Key track “Metak” is an unlikely mix of burundi drumming, post-punk, electronics and samba. “Wayang”, his global music project from 1995, further demonstrated his work with textures, loops and samples, and was recorded in Wah Wah Studios in São Paulo. This was also released by Offen Music in 2018. The prolific producer and music critic Carlos Eduardo Miranda, described Suba’s appeal best when he said “He came from the other side of the world and understood everything about this mess”. A hugely in-demand producer who was about to become a key player in the internationalization of Brazilian music. Goran Vejvoda is a multimedia artist born in London. After studying music in Belgrade he’s believed to be the guiding hand behind important releases from the early eighties Serbian scene. After moving to Paris he became a guitarist in various bands and worked with renowned comics artist Enki Bilal. Goran has released several solo albums in Japan, "Fruit Cloud" and "Harmonie". Other records include "Mikro-Organizmi" with Rambo Amadeus and "What" with ZerOne. Goran’s writing can be found in magazines such as The Wire and Vibrö. He has exhibited his art since 1981 and has performed at Beaubourg and Palais de Tokyo and participated in the exhibition "Off The Record" at the Musée D'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris. More recently he has been working on and showing video art that is a reaction to the covid pandemic, as well as the All Sounds Considered film, which explores the state of sound and silence. It’s challenging to trace the story of this project precisely, very little information is available and what we have are diffused fragments of memory from different actors. So, we return to the initial question: what is The Dreambird? It doesn’t matter if it is either an environmental statement or simply relaxing spa music, what it does is evoke sensations that elevate your mind to a higher and more emotional plane and from there you can travel wherever you like.

ZZK Records presents Mito y Comadre’s Guajirando, a journey into the reinvention of traditional Venezuelan music For years the ancestral riches of the folklore, culture and traditions of the indigenous peoples of Latin America have withstood the passing of time and the different impositions and trends of an increasingly globalized world that seems intent on pushing them into oblivion. Their fight to stay true to their roots and preserve their legacy means there is more and more interest in sharing these treasures with the world. Guajirando comes from this interest in finding recognition in our roots. This is the debut record from Mito y Comadre, the Venezuelan synth-pop and electronic roots group who with these nine previously unreleased songs take us on a journey through the sights and sounds of their country. The fusion of electronic sounds pays homage to a rarely explored music, one that is profoundly rooted in the territory, creating a dialogue between native percussions and rhythms such as the quitiplás, the malembe and the quichimba of Barlovento, the macizón and perra of the Caribbean coast, the calypso of the heartland, the flauta guajira and the gaita oriental, among other instruments. Backed by machines, electronic elements and the production of Grammy winner Christian Castagno (Bomba Estéreo, Systema Solar, Iggy Pop, Arcade Fire), they seek to bring visibility to these traditional rhythms with contemporary tendencies, creating a visionary fusion that places them on the scene as one of the most promising proponents of experimental Venezuelan music today.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” Mitski says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she’s gone. Listening to it, that’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land. Love is always radical, which means that it always disrupts, which means that it always takes work to receive it. This land, which already feels inhospitable to so many of its inhabitants, is about to feel hopelessly torn and tossed again – at times, devoid of love. This album offers the anodyne. “This is my most American album,” Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. But “maybe it’s beyond witnessing,” she says. At times, it feels like the album is an exercise in negative capability – a fearless embodiment and absorption of the pain of other bodies. When I ask her what the album would look like, if it were a person, she says it would be someone middle-aged and exhausted, perhaps someone having a midlife crisis. But through the daily indignity and exhaustion, something enormous and ecstatic is calling out. In this album, which is sonically Mitski’s most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. Mitski wrote these songs in little bursts over the past few years, and they feel informed by moments of noticing – noticing a sound that’s out of place, a building that groans in decay, an opinion that splits a room, a feeling that can’t be contained in a body. It was recorded at both the Bomb Shelter in East Nashville and the Sunset Sound Studios in Los Angeles. The album incorporates an orchestra arranged and conducted by Drew Erickson, as well as a full choir of 17 people - 12 in LA and 5 in Nashville - arranged by Mitski. And for the first time, it felt important to Mitski to have a band recording live together in the studio, to create this new sublime sound. Working with her longtime producer Patrick Hyland, the album has a wide-range of references, from Ennio Morricone’s bombastic Spaghetti Western scores to Carter Burwell’s tundra-filling Fargo soundtrack, from the breathy intimacy of Arthur Russell to the strident aliveness of Scott Walker or Igor Stravinsky, from the jubilation of Caetano Veloso to the twangy longing of Faron Young. From the first track, the album introduces and then heals a wound. “Bug Like an Angel” finds the divine in the ordinary, in the boozy drowning of sorrow. The narrator sings from the strange comfort of rock bottom: “sometimes a drink feels like family.” And suddenly, that choir of angels sings: “FAMILY!” This first track introduces a cosmic paradox: “The wrath of the devil was also given him by God.” This is an album in which dark and light exist in the same gesture, the same broken prayer. Like the Buddha inviting the demon Mara in for tea, The Land embraces brutal, daily pain — the necessary toll of transcendent love. In “Buffalo Replaced,” the wail of a freight train replaces the vibrations of the long-gone stampeding buffalo. Here, hope itself is personified, anthropomorphized into a sleeping creature, and our narrator wonders if life would be easier without her. But then, as though in response, “Heaven” offers a beautiful moment of passion, preserved like a fossil in time even though the “dark awaits us all around the corner.” This oasis is aggressively interrupted by “I Don’t Like My Mind,” a song from the perspective of someone in extraordinary pain. They are begging to keep their job, while actively keeping terrible traumatic memories at bay. Without their employment, these memories might take over, consuming them as relentlessly as the cake that they ate one “inconvenient Christmas.” The toggling between hope and despair in these four songs is masterful — the good, the bad, and the ugly in America’s backyard. This mythology continues to deepen with the stunning “The Deal,” in which someone is so burdened by their soul that they beg for it to be taken from them. Soon, the singer’s soul is revealed to be a bird perched on a streetlight. In a coup of songwriting, the narration does not switch into the newly-souled bird’s voice. No, we stay with the soulless “I.” The bird calls down: “You’re a cage without me. / Your pain is eased but you’ll never be free.” This song reinforces the album’s tug-of-war between the intoxication of love and the pain of isolation. Close on its heels is “My Love Mine All Mine,” an instant classic and the beating heart of the album, wherein the singer imagines their love shining down on the earth from the moon, long after the speaker is gone. “It’s just witness-less me,” she sings on “The Frost,” which suddenly takes us from the anticipation of loss right into the aching loneliness of it. On the subject of witnessing, Mitski says: “I’ve always been the person on the outside watching. And I’ve also done that with myself... outside of myself, witnessing myself, watching myself.” She thinks that she might have adopted this habit as a condition of being a woman of color, and that it’s led to the occasional post-apocalyptic fantasy of being the only person left in the world. We talked about Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape, in which a man is profoundly alone, with only an archive of old tapes to keep him company. He remembers the seismic event of an old sexual encounter, but now it’s: “Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.” The Land repeatedly offers that same hypothesis. Without love, is there anyone here? After the alien lift of “Star” comes the album’s showdown. “I’m Your Man” feels as inevitable, bloody, and haunting as a Sergio Leone duel scene. The “Man” in the title isn’t some fella proclaiming devotion, Mitski says, but rather the man inside her head, the haunting patriarch who treats her like a dog and can destroy her at whim. Despite his confidence and swagger, he is tracked down by a pack of hounds — who have unionized in the name of catharsis. After this violent reckoning, a Fowler’s Toad calls out in what sounds like a human scream. The night settles into silence. The earth might be uninhabited. We glide into the liberating closer, “I Love Me After You,” in which someone is truly alone but truly free. King of all the land. “I don’t have a self,” Mitski observes. “I have a million selves, and they’re all me, and I inhabit them, and they all live inside me.” Loving all of these selves does not yield the easy burst of a pop song. It’s the “long, complex, deep love, that you can never get to the end of, that’s always evolving, like a person. And there’s just no end to it. It feels like space travel.” The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Maybe this is what our best artists do: take a spaceship into the furthest reaches of pain, in order to bring back the elixir that we already had inside us. The unknowable known of love. “You have to go to both worlds all the time,” Mitski says, by which she means the mysterious world of making and the brutal world of living. This album is an act of hyperlocal space travel. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place — this earth, this America, this body — takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what’s truly hers, what can’t be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. “The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people,” Mitski says. “I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I’ve created onto other people.” She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she’s gone. Listening to it, that’s precisely how it feels: like a love that’s haunting the land. Love is always radical, which means that it always disrupts, which means that it always takes work to receive it. This land, which already feels inhospitable to so many of its inhabitants, is about to feel hopelessly torn and tossed again – at times, devoid of love. This album offers the anodyne. “This is my most American album,” Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. But “maybe it’s beyond witnessing,” she says. At times, it feels like the album is an exercise in negative capability – a fearless embodiment and absorption of the pain of other bodies. When I ask her what the album would look like, if it were a person, she says it would be someone middle-aged and exhausted, perhaps someone having a midlife crisis. But through the daily indignity and exhaustion, something enormous and ecstatic is calling out. In this album, which is sonically Mitski’s most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time-traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. Mitski wrote these songs in little bursts over the past few years, and they feel informed by moments of noticing – noticing a sound that’s out of place, a building that groans in decay, an opinion that splits a room, a feeling that can’t be contained in a body. It was recorded at both the Bomb Shelter in East Nashville and the Sunset Sound Studios in Los Angeles. The album incorporates an orchestra arranged and conducted by Drew Erickson, as well as a full choir of 17 people - 12 in LA and 5 in Nashville - arranged by Mitski. And for the first time, it felt important to Mitski to have a band recording live together in the studio, to create this new sublime sound. Working with her longtime producer Patrick Hyland, the album has a wide-range of references, from Ennio Morricone’s bombastic Spaghetti Western scores to Carter Burwell’s tundra-filling Fargo soundtrack, from the breathy intimacy of Arthur Russell to the strident aliveness of Scott Walker or Igor Stravinsky, from the jubilation of Caetano Veloso to the twangy longing of Faron Young. From the first track, the album introduces and then heals a wound. “Bug Like an Angel” finds the divine in the ordinary, in the boozy drowning of sorrow. The narrator sings from the strange comfort of rock bottom: “sometimes a drink feels like family.” And suddenly, that choir of angels sings: “FAMILY!” This first track introduces a cosmic paradox: “The wrath of the devil was also given him by God.” This is an album in which dark and light exist in the same gesture, the same broken prayer. Like the Buddha inviting the demon Mara in for tea, The Land embraces brutal, daily pain — the necessary toll of transcendent love. In “Buffalo Replaced,” the wail of a freight train replaces the vibrations of the long-gone stampeding buffalo. Here, hope itself is personified, anthropomorphized into a sleeping creature, and our narrator wonders if life would be easier without her. But then, as though in response, “Heaven” offers a beautiful moment of passion, preserved like a fossil in time even though the “dark awaits us all around the corner.” This oasis is aggressively interrupted by “I Don’t Like My Mind,” a song from the perspective of someone in extraordinary pain. They are begging to keep their job, while actively keeping terrible traumatic memories at bay. Without their employment, these memories might take over, consuming them as relentlessly as the cake that they ate one “inconvenient Christmas.” The toggling between hope and despair in these four songs is masterful — the good, the bad, and the ugly in America’s backyard. This mythology continues to deepen with the stunning “The Deal,” in which someone is so burdened by their soul that they beg for it to be taken from them. Soon, the singer’s soul is revealed to be a bird perched on a streetlight. In a coup of songwriting, the narration does not switch into the newly-souled bird’s voice. No, we stay with the soulless “I.” The bird calls down: “You’re a cage without me. / Your pain is eased but you’ll never be free.” This song reinforces the album’s tug-of-war between the intoxication of love and the pain of isolation. Close on its heels is “My Love Mine All Mine,” an instant classic and the beating heart of the album, wherein the singer imagines their love shining down on the earth from the moon, long after the speaker is gone. “It’s just witness-less me,” she sings on “The Frost,” which suddenly takes us from the anticipation of loss right into the aching loneliness of it. On the subject of witnessing, Mitski says: “I’ve always been the person on the outside watching. And I’ve also done that with myself... outside of myself, witnessing myself, watching myself.” She thinks that she might have adopted this habit as a condition of being a woman of color, and that it’s led to the occasional post-apocalyptic fantasy of being the only person left in the world. We talked about Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape, in which a man is profoundly alone, with only an archive of old tapes to keep him company. He remembers the seismic event of an old sexual encounter, but now it’s: “Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.” The Land repeatedly offers that same hypothesis. Without love, is there anyone here? After the alien lift of “Star” comes the album’s showdown. “I’m Your Man” feels as inevitable, bloody, and haunting as a Sergio Leone duel scene. The “Man” in the title isn’t some fella proclaiming devotion, Mitski says, but rather the man inside her head, the haunting patriarch who treats her like a dog and can destroy her at whim. Despite his confidence and swagger, he is tracked down by a pack of hounds — who have unionized in the name of catharsis. After this violent reckoning, a Fowler’s Toad calls out in what sounds like a human scream. The night settles into silence. The earth might be uninhabited. We glide into the liberating closer, “I Love Me After You,” in which someone is truly alone but truly free. King of all the land. “I don’t have a self,” Mitski observes. “I have a million selves, and they’re all me, and I inhabit them, and they all live inside me.” Loving all of these selves does not yield the easy burst of a pop song. It’s the “long, complex, deep love, that you can never get to the end of, that’s always evolving, like a person. And there’s just no end to it. It feels like space travel.” The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It’s a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Maybe this is what our best artists do: take a spaceship into the furthest reaches of pain, in order to bring back the elixir that we already had inside us. The unknowable known of love. “You have to go to both worlds all the time,” Mitski says, by which she means the mysterious world of making and the brutal world of living. This album is an act of hyperlocal space travel. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place — this earth, this America, this body — takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Recorded from 1984 to 1986, The Impossible Humane is the sole album from The New Blockaders side project Mixed Band Philanthropist. Originally released on the German Selektion label in 1987 and impossible to find nowadays, Staubgold makes this rare gem of industrial-goes-musique concrète available again in a strictly limited edition of 400 copies. Furthermore, the reissue contains two bonus tracks taken from the 7" single The Man Who Mistook a Real Woman for His Muse and Acted Accordingly. The album is assembled of exclusive source material by the who's-who of the industrial music scene of the time, including contributions from Nurse With Wound, Organum, Andrew Chalk, The New Blockaders, Etant Donnes, H.N.A.S., P16.D4, Asmus Tietchens, Controlled Bleeding, Smegma, Merzbow, and many more. "A classic chunk of destroyed concrète. Assembled from a variety of musical and spoken sources, this is a nonstop barrage of genius. Filled with headsnapping changes, sexual innuendo and general confusion, it's a totally great listening experience," said The Wire. Idwal Fisher wrote: "This car-crash tape collage still stands today as one of the best examples of the genre. Its perpetual barrage of split-second samples are a dizzying mess of '60s pop songs, scrapes, industrial whirr, uncategorizeable racket, ghostly voices, electronic beebles and burrs, sped-up records, tape whizz, machine rumble, snatches of reggae, bucket damage, kazoo farts, disco spots and about three-thousand or more (I'm guessing) other samples that really shouldn't work, but, by some sleight of hand or genius, actually do. On paper, snatches of steel bands shouldn't be found on the same side of tape as Geordie MCs, Michael Jackson, pneumatic drills, early Merzbow and '50s doo wop, but here they are and it works. Totally. Then comes the added bonus of being able to listen to this to the point of ad nauseam, mainly due to the fact that there are so few reference points that every listen brings something new."

Temporary Requiem is a mass for dance - the music score to “Known Mass. No. 3: St. Maurice.” A collaboration with Ann Glaviano, a dance maker and choreographer (and friend since our time together at a girl's Catholic school in New Orleans), it utilizes heavily dissected and altered passages of the traditional Latin requiem mass as the accompanying text across 6 movements. As the mission of “St. Maurice” is to build and break down a lost church over the span of the performance, the music serves to help transport "the congregation" to this dreamworld. Initially written and recorded over two weeks in 2018, Temporary Requiem is a proto-Sour Cherry Bell (kranky 2020), serving as an experimental space and springboard for ideas for that LP. Temporary Requiem completes a trinity with SCB and equally-of-the-era Matanzas.

Fabulous fresh BC / Chain Reaction schooled Dub Techno EP