Folk / Roots

Another blink and you'll miss it transmission from the heart and soul of Manchester artist Tom Boogizm's Rat Heart project alongside The Peanuts (?!?!). The Pamela Peanut Kitchen Sessions is a window into the psyche of this creative force, created in the spirit of purest underground DIY self-expression somewhere between Arthur Russell and The Durutti Column, stoned to the bone.

This music helps me understand how I’m feeling, which is the secret, and there are others. Maybe a product of lyrics sung as if into my ear alone. Or, I hear what I want to hear, or can. That dear experience of understanding your words one way even when I know I’m wrong, like that first line in “Take Mine” which is stuck in my head as: “I wanted to tell you I follow girls like you all the time.” Something about this slip speaks to me, for me, and it’s a kind of magic to open sense up to possibility. These songs are full of similar moments that reach deep, disorient with their candor, and linger long, into lightness. Little truths hook and curl. Is there actually a place where I could fall behind with you? Where we can measure time by creeping vines? I’d like to. Because she did blow in on a cold wind, and how did you know? Precious images, misplaced memories, that this album has captured, nurtured, shared. - Natalia Panzer

All songs originally written by J & reinterpreted by the 'J and the woolen stars' Emile Frankel, Rosy Angela Murphy & Nico Callaghan. Artwork by J Pictures by Bernard Caleo Mastered by Shy

A stunning survey of the 1970s heyday of great Japanese singer and countercultural icon Maki Asakawa (1942-2010). Deep-indigo, dead-of-night enka, folk, and blues, inhaling Billie Holiday and Nina Simone down to the bone. A traditional waltz abuts Nico-style incantation; defamiliarized versions of Oscar Brown Jr. and Bessie Smith collide with big-band experiments alongside poet Shūji Terayama; a sitar-led psychedelic wig-out runs into a killer excursion in modal, spiritual jazz. Existentialism and noir, mystery and allure, hurt and hauteur. With excellent notes by Alan Cummings and the fabulous photographs of Hitoshi Jin Tamura. "Japan's answer to Scott Walker, with a visual aesthetic and a death-decadent appeal that is straight out of the Keiji Haino songbook." --Volcanic Tongue

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. 

Heavy Weight Vinyl. The unbelievably prolific Haruomi Hosono is one of the major architects of modern Japanese pop music. With his encyclopedic knowledge of music and boundless curiosity for new sounds, Hosono has put his unmistakable stamp on hundreds of recordings as a session player, producer, and auteur of his own idiosyncratic musical world. Born and raised in central Tokyo, his adolescent obsession with American pop culture informed his early forays into country music, which he would revisit later in his career. Hosono made his professional debut in 1969 as a member of Apryl Fool, whose heavy psychedelia was somewhat at odds with his influences, which leaned towards the rootsy sounds of Moby Grape and Buffalo Springfield. The latter was one of the main inspirations for his next group, Happy End, whose unique blend of West Coast sounds with Japanese lyrics proved to be highly influential over the course of three albums.

After Happy End’s amicable break up in 1973, Hosono released Hosono House, an intimate slice of Japanese Americana recorded at home with a back-to-basics approach akin to Music from Big Pink or McCartney. While his former band helped pave the way for the rise of “city pop” that reflected upon urban themes and city life, Hosono took a 180 degree turn towards the countryside for his highly-regarded first solo album. Located an hour from Tokyo in Sayama, Saitama Prefecture, the actual Hosono House was one of several American-style houses originally built for the families of troops stationed at the nearby Johnson Air Base, active during the post-war occupation years. By the early ‘70s this small community had become a hub for creative types looking for a break from Tokyo’s hustle and bustle – and cheaper rent. For Hosono, this was as close as he could get to living in America without leaving his home country. With rooms filled to the edges with recording gear, the house became a live-in studio for Hosono and his crack band – soon to become known as the in-demand session group Tin Pan Alley. The songs on Hosono House display the breadth of Hosono’s talents, from the hushed acoustic folk of “Rock-A-Bye My Baby” and the country twang of “Boku Wa Chotto” to the New Orleans funk of “Fuyu Koe” and the unexpected breakbeats in “Bara To Yajuu.” Lauded by artists such as Jim O’Rourke and Devendra Banhart, Hosono House remains a touchstone of the early phase of Hosono’s career.

Hosono’s solo career would take many twists and turns from this point forward, with forays into exotica, electronic, ambient, and techno, culminating in the massive success of techno pop group Yellow Magic Orchestra (YMO), who made their debut in 1978. Admired by artists ranging from Van Dyke Parks to Mac DeMarco, Hosono continues to forge ahead as he heads into his fifth decade as a musician. With the re-release of his key albums for the first time outside of Japan, his genius will be discovered by a whole new generation of fans around the world.

Weaving between self-built zithers, drones, clarinets, slide guitars and drum machines, ‘Sun Arcs’ presents a unique sound space formed by an inventive approach to acoustic folk and jazz. The starting point of ‘Sun Arcs’ saw Jason travel for a week alone to Andersabo, a cabin set in the Swedish woods just outside of Unnaryd, known also as the music project, festival and residency space which has been run by Dungan since 2016, hosting artists like Sofie Birch, Johan Carøe and Ellen Arkbro. Whilst writing 1-2 pieces per day, a conscious decision was made to leave behind everyday distractions and shut out the outside world to instead focus on the natural passage of time as Dungan recalls: “My only sense of time came from these daily walks out in the woods with my dog, and an awareness of the sun’s path as it moved across the sky each day.” The album’s immersive world unfolds with the opener ‘Dallas’, a musical synthesis of these two disparate spaces (Texas and Denmark), the touchstones of Dungan’s life. A folk-esque single acoustic builds to a flowing arrangement of clarinets, organ and cello drones coupled with percussion. ‘Green-Yellow Field’ chimes in as the first of two solo oriented zither recordings twinned with the dreamlike title track ‘Sun Arcs’, both densely rich as cascading and overlapping harmonic tones resound. ‘Bloom’ emerges with a krautrock psyche before an eruption of cello drones, slide guitar and free-ranging zither playing, ushering in the anticipation of spring. “The title and the feel of the song comes simply from my summers in Sweden – when the plants and insects are opening up everywhere, and there’s this almost too-intense feeling of life outside.” With half of the recordings conceived in Andersabo, Jason returned to Copenhagen to form the album's centre piece ‘Rain Cycle’ which features a tempered Roland drum machine alongside shifting zither improvisations. ‘Writing’ explores the shimmering harp-like qualities of sweeping playing figurations with Dungan mapping out adjusted tuning “zones” on the zither for unconventional but creatively liberating effects. ‘Fur’ captures the feeling of openness and the momentum of time, seeing Dungan perform waves of solo clarinet, often in one takes and embellished with textural drones, a zither solo, and layers of guitar. ‘Wavelength’ the album's closer is fondly inspired by the film works of Michael Snow and Don Cherry’s seminal live album ‘Blue Lake’ (1974), as it builds out from a drone-generated zither chord and features an alto recorder solo. Dungan found a deep connection to Cherry’s stripped back performance ethos, focusing on the core beauty of minimal instrumentation creating a genre-less meeting between folk and jazz. A dialogue is formed between the solo and the bandlike performances, interlinked in a geographical duality with all finding a sense of commonplace as musical sketches of visited landscapes. The bountiful instrumentation ebbs and flows as further layers emerge with Dungan constructing his material by recording and reviewing, adding and subtracting. Musically it portrays a life led by an American person living in Scandinavia, responding to both the local music and landscape while looking back to American influences. Dungan concludes: “Both places feel like “me”, I think on some level the music is always some kind of self-portrait.” ‘Sun Arcs’ depicts the intricate balance of nature’s cycles and the paths outlined by the seasons, from a winter dormancy to a warm sun drenched scene. The album scales new heights and further defines Dungan’s musical narrative, inhabiting a unique space in left-field, improvised and experimental music, bearing his most accomplished compositions to date. A singular and visionary expression, drawing on an array of instruments and sound worlds with a renewed sense of joy and discovery. The album's rich tapestry was mixed by Jeff Zeigler (Laraaji, Mary Lattimore, Kurt Vile / Steve Gunn) and mastered by Stephan Mathieu (Kali Malone, KMRU, Félicia Atkinson).

Experience the captivating and hypnotic sounds of Joyama no Narazumono – a rare gem of Japan’s 70’s folk scene! A genre-bending album by duo Shigeki Kobayashi and Yasuo Yamada, who drew inspiration from songs by local boatmen and British folk like Fairport Convention and The Albion Band to craft a minimalist, intimate approach to both traditional and original compositions. Locally released in 1979 in an edition of just 100 copies, this highly sought-after album is now available worldwide for the first time. Printed on Stoughton “tip-on” jackets. 300 copies on black vinyl, and 200 on Translucent “Root beer” vinyl.

Born in 1923 in Clarksdale MS, Wade Walton, besides working as barber, was a strong blues guitarist and harp player who toured with minstrel shows in his teens and formed the Kings of Rhythms with Ike Turner in the 40's. Recorded by Rudy Van Gelder in 1962 and originally released by Bluesville Records, "Shake ’em on Down" was his biggest album, a great piece of downhome blues which earned him international attention. People said that no trip to Clarksdale would be complete without a trip to Wade’s Barber Shop (Delta Boogie)

“She can snap a heart like a twig” - Pitchfork “Truly otherworldly music” - Stereogum Chapter is pleased to announce the first ever vinyl reissue of this classic overview of Connecticut songwriting icon Kath Bloom’s 1990s recordings, originally released on CD in 2005. Kath’s musical career began in the late 70s and includes a revered series of collaborations with avant-garde guitarist Loren Connors. Compiled from long out-of-print, self-released cassettes and CD-Rs, Finally was the first release to bring Kath’s solo music to wider attention in the 21st century, and she has since been covered by the likes of Pitchfork, The Wire and Aquarium Drunkard. It includes the exquisite Come Here, as heard in a pivotal scene in Richard Linklater’s beloved 1995 film Before Sunrise. In fact, this reissue features new artwork matching the fictitious LP Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke marvel over in a Viennese record store. The reissue includes five bonus tracks via download card, rescued from a hissy 1987 demo tape. These late 80s versions of Kath’s songs with synth, sax, fretless bass and bongos, including a never before heard version of Come Here, are sublime! Kath’s music was covered by the likes of Bill Callahan, Devendra Banhart, Mark Kozelek, Meg Baird on Chapter’s 2009 tribute album Loving Takes This Course. Covers from this release have also been featured in Paolo Sorrentino film Youth and recent Netflix smash series Sex Education. Still performing across America and the world, Kath is a living legend of fragile folk and heartbreaking songwriting.

The first entry in Numero’s Margo Guryan series arrives as a limited edition pic sleeve 45. Side A features the previously unreleased 1966 yé-yé inspired burner “I Ought To Stay Away From You ,” paired with her latter day viral smash “Why Do I Cry.”

Chie Mukai & Yonju Miyaoka 'Song of trees' Comes in jewel case, with 8 page booklet and English translation kraft sheet. artwork by Yonju Miyaoka Lyrics translation by Alan Cummings Long notes by Takuya Sakaguchi, Short notes by Alan Cummings and Yu Hirayama. Mix & Mastered by Ippei Suda All lyrics and text has English translation Edition of 500

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.

激レア化している2018年作が初の再発。ノースカロライナ州アッシュビルを拠点に、フォーク、カントリー、ブルース、そして宇宙的なアメリカン・ロックを見事に溶け合わせるソングライター、Ryan Gustafsonの変名The Dead Tonguesによるアルバム『Unsung Passage』が〈Psychic Hotline〉よりヴァイナル・リイシュー。常に各地を飛び回ってきた冒険家であるグスタフソンが、歌うにふさわしいといえるほどに見てきたものを、その一人称で見つめ直した作品。慌ただしい現代に向けた内省的なアンセムに注ぎ込まれる秀逸な一枚。

The first vinyl release from American artist Sydney Spann, Sending Up A Spiral Of well encapsulates Spann’s body of work thus far. On their music, which reacts to themes of family systems and care work, Sydney writes, “people who have done care work —nannies, sex workers, therapists, nurses— may possess their own musical knowledge, developed over time through particular modes of voicing practiced to achieve a desired outcome in their labor. Attending intimately to these ways of voicing and listening and bringing them into a sound practice could be a way to legitimize a less recognized kind of musical knowledge.” Sending Up A Spiral Of explores this unarticulated expression through sound and song. The titular piece traces Spann within some quixotic woodland, as if beginning inside of some urban fairy-story. Self-soothing singing quivers under dragging branches, peeling cement and other tactile grit. The work drops into a new proximity half-way through as electronic contours overtake the environment. Sine-tones smolder in a pulsating choreography, perhaps reminiscent of Richard Maxfield’s “Night Music” played at half-speed. The second section of the record depicts a series of five smaller portraits, expressed (or disguised) as lullabies. An oceanic humming permeates them. “Possession” and “Purposeful Evening” are the most song-like lullabies, with their verse-chorus repetition and melodic simplicity. Innocuous words “baby” and “honey” are encoded with deeper, often painful connotations. Sydney’s voice and vision for this album is ambitious, cloaked in the strains and contradictions of what love means in the nuclear family. A 16-page artist pamphlet of rubbings, photographs and sheet music accompanies the LP, along with a digital PDF of Spann’s thesis “Sending Up A Spiral Of: A Musical Epistemology Made Through Care Work.”

Recital is pleased to publish the first vinyl edition of Let the Darkness Fall, a forgotten corner from the vast discography of Suzanne Langille & Loren Connors. Joined here by David Daniell and Andrew Burnes (of the Atlanta-based group San Agustin), Darkness was recorded in the summer of 1998 on a Tascam Porta-5 in Loren and Suzanne’s Brooklyn living room, and issued the following year as a limited CD by Secretly Canadian. The tender gloom of Let the Darkness Fall sounds like a broadcast of some private séance. The trio of guitarists here show a beautiful restraint, hovering just underneath vocalist Suzanne Langille’s ephemeral poetry. Once they hit RECORD, the sensitivity of the players melded this quartet into a sole-entity; finishing each other’s phrases in slow motion. Suzanne’s gentle voice glows through the wispy guitar shadows with a quiet determination. One could almost imagine her building a nest out of the guitar lines she’s gathered. This collection of musicians is a precursor to the band Haunted House, a wild sort of jam-band playing the blues without playing structure. Recital is proud to continue the series of Loren Connors-related editions, stretching from his art books Wildweeds & Night of Rain, to his masterpiece solo LPs Airs & Lullaby. And Recital is equally thrilled to highlight Suzanne Langille’s mystifying command of voice and word and the intricate guitar work of Andrew Burnes and David Daniell. Come revisit the mist that filled that living room 25 years ago.

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences. From Fontaines D.C. to Guy Garvey, Aurora to Feist, and Self-Esteem to David Gray, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic"Nick Drake was not that concerned with promoting himself as an artist but I think he would have been overjoyed to hear his art promoted by so many vibrant and talented artists such as the ones we approached. Each track is an example of a fellow artist adopting Nick's art as if it was their own, submitting to the song, and the results prove to me that talent can so often win out over mere skill or 'personality'. We are honoured and so grateful to all our friends, old and new, who took part in the making of this set." - Cally Calloman, Bryter Music"Having initially exchanged a list of our favourite artists and realised how much our tastes overlapped, Cally and I set out on this venture with one simple brief - to ask the artists to ignore the original recording of Nick's in terms of arrangement, production and singing style; basically we were asking them to reinvent the song. First of all it was humbling to hear so many similar responses, saying how important Nick's music was to them, and how much they wanted to be part of this project. But as the results came in one by one, we were staggered by the brilliance and invention that each artist had shown. They had done what we asked - they had made the song their own." - Jeremy Lascelles, Chrysalis Records

Umeko Ando (1932-2004) recorded "Iuta Upopo" in 2003, the original track has been produced by Oki Kano (Oki Dub Ainu Band). “Upopo” is the name of a particular singing style which involves repetition, while “Iuta” simply means song. Umeko Ando performs this minimalistic vocal in a brittle, emotional manner which is framed by a slow, percussive pulse and Oki’s Tonkori patterns (the Tonkori is a string instrument of the Ainu). When Pingipung’s Andi Otto toured Japan in 2017, he came across this enchanting, folkloristic and danceable song in a DJ set of a friend. He made contact with Oki Kano who agreed to license the track from his own label Chikar Studio. It is pressed on vinyl for the first time. This single is part of Pingipung’s ongoing Concentrical Series of 7inches. We are very pleased to have a M.Rux Remix on the B side. He is not only a brilliant original producer, as his EP “In the Hold” (YNFND 2016) has proved; his claim to fame is a sublime collection of edits & cuts (for free on his bandcamp) which skillfully takes classics by Nina Simone, Townes Van Zandt and others to the slowhouse dancefloor. His remix adds a gliding subbass, a kickdrum and occasional claps to the enhanced percussive structures of the original. Umeko Ando’s vocals adapt seamlessly to M.Rux’s powerful electronic production.

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences. From Fontaines D.C. to Guy Garvey, Aurora to Feist, and Self-Esteem to David Gray, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic"Nick Drake was not that concerned with promoting himself as an artist but I think he would have been overjoyed to hear his art promoted by so many vibrant and talented artists such as the ones we approached. Each track is an example of a fellow artist adopting Nick's art as if it was their own, submitting to the song, and the results prove to me that talent can so often win out over mere skill or 'personality'. We are honoured and so grateful to all our friends, old and new, who took part in the making of this set." - Cally Calloman, Bryter Music"Having initially exchanged a list of our favourite artists and realised how much our tastes overlapped, Cally and I set out on this venture with one simple brief - to ask the artists to ignore the original recording of Nick's in terms of arrangement, production and singing style; basically we were asking them to reinvent the song. First of all it was humbling to hear so many similar responses, saying how important Nick's music was to them, and how much they wanted to be part of this project. But as the results came in one by one, we were staggered by the brilliance and invention that each artist had shown. They had done what we asked - they had made the song their own." - Jeremy Lascelles, Chrysalis Records

When he‘s not writing or recording, Baba Stiltz immerses in fearless fiction by the likes of Denis Johnson and Dodie Bellamy; prose where pedestrian details become transcendent in aggregate and the inner lives of marginal characters are examined as though they were kings. A similar thesis runs through „Paid Testimony“, the essential second tape of minimalist guitar music from the FilipinoAmerican-Swedish artist. In recent years, Stiltz has made like Lee Hazelwood‘s Cowboy In Sweden in reverse, making annual pilgrimages from Stockholm to California and reconnecting with his roots via a guitar and a Fostex 4- track. He‘s drawn to the less glamorous corners of the golden state, an observant habitué of unkempt streets and dive bars stretching from LA to Vacaville. It‘s a long stretch from the jetset techno clubs where Baba originally plied his musical trade, but it‘s where he finds characters and ideas worth writing about. The characters on „Paid Testimony“ are on the edge and on the run. Surrounded by flawed men with big schemes since childhood, he extrapolates characters who plot bank heists and order milk and vodka in AM hours, the type of confrontation- prone characters who „say some shit, make everyone uncomfortable and then just split.“ To focus on the rawness of this document would discount the humor and sympathy with which he treats his characters, not to mention the subtly- psychedelic songwriting recalling David Berman, early Smog, the original indie rock minimalist poets. On the final song, Stiltz looks back on the city that raised him, „Stockholm,“ referencing „young professionals carelessly living“ before adding „I can‘t say I‘m not jealous even though I live my life just like they do.“ There‘s an honesty in the small details revealed on „Paid Testimony“, and a defined sense of place, be it Stockholm, Sacramento or some dim barroom across from the Bank Of America. Baba doesn‘t quite fit in anywhere. This outsider quality has often been used as a marketing tool, yet here, it lends a writerly aspect to the proceedings, an unreality to the everyday.

180 gr. ltd edition 500 copies, fully licensed ! Little we know about this long lost gem coming from the outskirts of the Commonwealth. But as far as we know, magic lies inside. That is the case of the sole album of mysterious australian band Extradition. Released in a small run on local independent label Sweet Peach in 1971, the self titled album stands as one of the most accurate acid folk rendition outside the UK realm. Formerly a three piece Extradition struggle on their personal behavior forging a rural set up that pursue the ‘think green’ revolution. It could be the English folk revival or the West Coast flower power, but the album introduce a different state of mind, far away from the chaotic suburbs of the counter culture. Lost on the isle, the acoustic set up of the band brings joy and happiness, a new age that reflects the multiple essence of the four elements. While the opener ‘ A Water Song’ brings to mind the course of a small river ‘A Love Song’ sets the mood for a long lost medieval folk tale. Acoustic guitar, small percussion, natural found sound and the celestial voice of Shayna Carlin (also member of cult band Tully, a weirdo surf-psychedelic affair) all of the elements above literally conjure for an ambient album before the definition was fully embraced by a massive audience.

Once the dust had settled after a musically and politically turbulent era that was 1960s America, there emerged a new musical movement, one that united the singer-songwriter with the folk-rock sensibilities developing at the time: A beautiful, fragile form of American folk music exploring the more sentimental parts of human experience. Flight was formed in 1971 in the Michigan town of Grayling by Phil Stancil and Doug Slater. The two teenagers, with no formal musical training, sat down for a year to explore a shared sense of vulnerability, and a newfound freedom in expressing an emotional openness rarely seen in young American men at the time. What resulted was an 8-track LP, recorded over two days in two separate studios. Aside from a limited 45 pressing of 50 copies of the two singles, I’m Coming Home would wait for a full half-century to be released. This music recently uncovered and restored, provides a unique glimpse into the world that was 1971 America: a time when young men felt emboldened to abandon machismo and explore the feelings of heartbreak, longing, alienation, and love in music. Enjoy I’m Coming Home by Flight.

The new album by Maxine Funke divides into two halves - the first side a perfect suite of the kind of beautifully constructed songs that the New Zealand based artist has become known for, acutely observed vignettes framing her voice with a minimal backing of guitar and organ. The second side takes off on a different flight entirely: two dreamy long-form pieces built on a framework of cello, field recordings and delay.

Growing up in Minnesota, life constantly took multi-instrumentalist and producer Lutalo Jones back and forth across the Mississippi River, through the beating heart of the Twin Cities, from their home in Minneapolis to school in St Paul. In 2021 Lutalo and their partner moved east, to settle among the green peaks of Vermont, having taken ownership of an area of land with the intention of building a small community for themselves. The aim is to accomplish a long-held dream: to live life differently, to invest in and create something tangible that can be passed on to future generations. The to-and-fro of that early life has been replaced by something altogether more steady, a burning desire to not get so caught up in the intensity of the world.It's this overwhelming potency of modernity that ripples through Lutalo's musical work. Their six-song debut EP, Once Now, Then Again, bristles with tension, despite the open laidback nature of the performance. The new EP – which follows a few well-received singles in 2021 and a run of live shows alongside Adrianne Lenker – spans both of Lutalo's contrasting worlds, the songwriting beginning in the Twin Cities before being finished in the serene surroundings of Vermont, and both environments leave their mark on Lutalo's rich and absorbing sound.For now, Lutalo's world consists of new pastures and new beginnings, the search for brightness in spite of all the dark. They remain optimistic in attitude, and steadfast in their belief that change can only happen when you believe in a better future. "At the same point you also have to recognize that this is also your time to be alive," Lutalo says, "and to try to find beauty in those moments and focus on the smaller details: to watch the water trickle down the stream, to see the ice as it melts from the rooftops."