Indie / Alternative

Diane Birch emerges as a formidable American singer-songwriter and pianist, boasting a repertoire of critically lauded releases spanning a rich decade-long career. With an eclectic array of musical influences stemming from a globe-trotting childhood - ranging from her humble beginnings as a preacher’s daughter in Zimbabwe and South Africa to her transformative years as a gothic teen immersed in the vibrant cultural underbelly of Portland, Oregon. Her discovery while living in London via Myspace led to a record deal in New York, where she then spent the next few years. Diane's journey is as diverse as her sound. Her profound experiences have culminated in a unique musical blend, characterized by her stint performing soulful covers and original pieces in the swanky lounges of the Beverly Hills elite. Receiving widespread attention with her debut album “Bible Belt” and her follow-up projects “Speak A Little Louder” and “Nous”, these works not only cemented her position in the international music scene but also earned her accolades and respect from esteemed peers including Prince, Daryl Hall, Mark Ronson, Dave Stewart, Questlove, Elvis Costello, Bryan Ferry and Stevie Wonder. Returning with her latest work, “Flying On Abraham”, Diane presents a meticulously crafted collection of original compositions. This album is a heartfelt homage to her vast and varied musical roots, weaving together the rich tapestry of 70s AM radio, soul, jazz, classic rock, 80s/90s pop and R&B. Despite the eclectic mix, Diane's sound remains distinctly her own - her voice a blend of raw emotion and refined grace, echoing the legacy of iconic artists like Carole King, Carly Simon and Rickie Lee Jones, yet standing out with an authenticity and individuality that is unmistakably Diane Birch. Produced by renowned English musician Paul Stacey, known for his work with Noel Gallagher and the Black Crowes, “Flying On Abraham” was recorded in the UK, backed by an impressive lineup of musicians. This album is not just a collection of songs but a narrative of her artistic journey, offering a window into the soul of a woman who has traversed continents and musical genres to create something truly extraordinary. With “Flying On Abraham”, Diane Birch reaffirms her status as a musical virtuoso, continuing to enchant audiences worldwide with her evocative lyrics. It represents Diane's enduring vision of “making American music with an English sensibility.”

Tsapiky music from Southwest Madagascar features wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and the amphetamine beat! Unlike anything else, this is THE high life music you've always wanted - ceremonial music played with abandon and extreme intent, honoring the living and dead alike. In Toliara and its surrounding region, funerals, weddings, circumcisions and other rites of passage have been celebrated for decades in ceremonies called mandriampototse. During these celebrations – which last between three and seven days – cigarettes, beer and toaky gasy (artisanal rum) are passed around while electric orchestras play on the same dirt floor as the dancing crowds and zebus. The music, tsapiky, defies any classification. This compilation showcases the diversity of contemporary tsapiky music. Locally and even nationally renowned bands played their own songs on makeshift instruments, blaring through patched-up amps and horn speakers hung in tamarind trees, projecting the music kilometers away. Lead guitarists and female lead singers are the central figures of tsapiky. Driven as much by their creative impulses as by the need to stand out in a competitive market, the artists distinguish themselves stylistically through their lyrics, rhythms or guitar riffs. They must also master a wide repertoire of current tsapiky hits, which the families that attend inevitably request before parading in front of the orchestra with their offerings. This work, a constant push and pull between distinction and imitation, is nourished by fertile exchanges between various groups: acoustic and electric, rural and urban, coastal or inland. What results during these ceremonies is a music of astonishing intensity and creativity, played by artists carving out their own path, indifferent to the standards of any other music industry: Malagasy, African or global.

Tsapiky music from Southwest Madagascar features wild ecstatic vocals, distorted electric guitars, rocket bass, and the amphetamine beat! Unlike anything else, this is THE high life music you've always wanted - ceremonial music played with abandon and extreme intent, honoring the living and dead alike. In Toliara and its surrounding region, funerals, weddings, circumcisions and other rites of passage have been celebrated for decades in ceremonies called mandriampototse. During these celebrations – which last between three and seven days – cigarettes, beer and toaky gasy (artisanal rum) are passed around while electric orchestras play on the same dirt floor as the dancing crowds and zebus. The music, tsapiky, defies any classification. This compilation showcases the diversity of contemporary tsapiky music. Locally and even nationally renowned bands played their own songs on makeshift instruments, blaring through patched-up amps and horn speakers hung in tamarind trees, projecting the music kilometers away. Lead guitarists and female lead singers are the central figures of tsapiky. Driven as much by their creative impulses as by the need to stand out in a competitive market, the artists distinguish themselves stylistically through their lyrics, rhythms or guitar riffs. They must also master a wide repertoire of current tsapiky hits, which the families that attend inevitably request before parading in front of the orchestra with their offerings. This work, a constant push and pull between distinction and imitation, is nourished by fertile exchanges between various groups: acoustic and electric, rural and urban, coastal or inland. What results during these ceremonies is a music of astonishing intensity and creativity, played by artists carving out their own path, indifferent to the standards of any other music industry: Malagasy, African or global.

Globetrotting Texan trio Khruangbin are set to release ‘Hasta El Cielo’, the band’s glorious dub version of their second album ‘Con Todo El Mundo’. The full album has been processed anew along with two bonus dubs by renowned Jamaican producer Scientist.

The band’s exotic, spacious, psychedelic funk aligns with the dub treatment particularly well. Indeed, keen fans won’t find this a surprising release. Dubs of tracks from their first album ‘The Universe Smiles Upon You’ appeared on limited vinyl releases of ‘People Everywhere’ for Record Store Day 2016 and ‘Zionsville’ on the BoogieFuturo remix 12”. The especially eagle-eared will have caught a dub of ‘Two Fish And An Elephant’ playing over the credits of the track’s celebrated video.

“For us, Dub has always felt like a prayer. Spacious, meditative, able to transport the listener to another realm. The first dub albums we listened to were records mixed by Scientist featuring the music of the Roots Radics. Laura Lee learned to play bass by listening to Scientist Wins the World Cup. His unique mixing style, with the emphasis on space and texture, creates the feeling of frozen time; it was hugely influential to us as a band. To be able to work alongside Scientist, a legend in the history of dub, is an honor. This is our dub version of Con Todo El Mundo.”

- Khruangbin

Formed of Laura Lee on bass, Mark Speer on guitar, and Donald “DJ” Johnson on drums; Khruangbin’s sounds are rooted in the deepest waters of music from around the world, infused with classic soul, dub and psychedelia. Their 2015 debut album ‘The Universe Smiles Upon You’ was heavily influenced by 60’s and 70’s Thai cassettes the band listened to on their long car journeys to rehearsal in the Texan countryside. 2018’s follow up ‘Con Todo El Mundo’, which received hugely positive critical reactions and radio play around the world, took inspiration not just from South East Asia but similarly underdiscovered funk and soul of the Mediterranean and the Middle East, particularly Iran.

Since the album’s release, the band have continued their almost non-stop approach to touring, playing over 130 dates in 2018 alone. They return to the UK this summer for festival shows at Green Man, Latitude, Mostly Jazz, Funk & Soul Festival and Barclaycard British Summer Time.

Press for ‘Con Todo El Mundo’

Emerging from Italy’s contemporary underground scene, La Festa Delle Rane is the project of Naples-based musician Lucia Sole, whose new cassette release is a collaboration with UK label All Night Flight. Her music gently captures fleeting everyday moments, evoking dreamlike nostalgia through a childlike lens. With a simple setup of melodica, acoustic guitar, and flute, combined with percussion and brass, the sound balances intimate stillness and kaleidoscopic improvisation. Lo-fi recordings preserve the delicate textures of her innocent vocals, whispering glockenspiel, and distorted organ—tracing the breath and presence of space itself.

“i ai e.p.” by GEZAN with Million Wish Collective is a genre-blending 12" release that merges alternative rock, ambient textures, and experimental soundscapes. The A-side features the emotionally charged title track “i ai,” while the B-side offers a sprawling 18-minute remix by COMPUMA. Originally composed as the theme for the film i ai, the EP reflects GEZAN’s signature fusion of chaos, spirituality, and sonic exploration.

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

Mong Tong's latest album, "Tao Fire 道火", not only continues the idea behind their previous work, "Indies 印", but also incorporates more local elements such as gamelan music, phin guitar, tabla drums, and Taiwan sisomi. While sampling more sounds from the street of Southeast Asia, including weddings, funerals, and traditional celebrations, Mong Tong again explores different folk sounds around Austronesia. Different to their last Guruguru Brain release "Mystery 秘神", "Tao Fire 道火" will take us to a land that is both familiar and fresh. Feel the hot, the crowd, humidity, and ecstasy. This time, welcome to Mong Tong's subtropical world.

Following up last year's acclaimed 'Heavy Glory' and collabs with Dean Blunt and Yung Lean, Iceage's Elias Rønnenfelt maxes on Yves Tumor-indebted hyper-sexual '90s indie-isms, trading sniffs 'n sneers with Erika de Casier, Fine and The Congos. RIYL Happy Mondays, Primal Scream or Bar Italia.

Rønnenfelt's always been good at predicting tidal shifts. Even when he was a teen fronting hardcore punk heroes Iceage he repeatedly bucked expectations, choosing to tour with fringe noise operatives like Helm and evolve the band's sound into something more like Spiritualized, augmenting chugging Britpop references with a full gospel choir on 2021's 'Seek Shelter'. So when his solo debut arrived last year, its peculiarity was almost a given; why wouldn't it be a set of country-tinted folk-rock jammers backed up with covers of Spacemen 3 and Townes Van Zandt? 'Speak Daggers', though, is a different beast altogether. Made in his bedroom between tours, it's a thicker, more confidently obstinate album than its predecessor that plays more like a continuation or evolution of 'Seek Shelter'. So after a smirking fake-out with the Nyman-esque 'Intro', 'Crush the Devil's Head' busses us to Manchester via Oxford, juxtaposing its cheeky melodica moans with Rønnenfelt's best Thom Yorke impression.

'Love How It Feels' sounds like Primal Scream reimagined by Yves Tumor, all thick sampled breaks, bolshy doomsaying and clammy glam undertones. There's an era-appropriate jaunt to Jamaica on 'Not Gonna Follow' that repurposes material Rønnenfelt recorded with The Congos and I-Jahbar when he was out in Jamaica a few years ago and sounds as if it could have fallen off the notorious '...Yes Please' sessions. And on 'Mona Lisa', he uses the Bobby Byrd 'Hot Pants' break that The Stone Roses famously twinned with Mani's enduring bassline on 'Fools Gold' - Rønnenfelt's tale of heartbreak isn't quite as toothsome, but it's a good indicator of where his head's at. A duet with Erika de Casier helps bolster highlight 'Blunt Force Trauma', and Rønnenfelt's Escho bandmate Fine - whose voice graces Two Shell's 'Home' - pitches in on 'Kill Your Neighbor', tapping into the seam between Denise Johnson and Hope Sandoval.

A growling, distinctive set of loose-limbed, groove-fwd art rock inversions, Alpha Maid's debut album has been well worth the wait, augmenting post-punk, noise rock and free improv structures with sui generis studio fog and an unparalleled level of no-fucks-given eccentricity. RIYL Dome, Silver Apples, Moin, Klein, Mica Levi, Loop, Still House Plants.

Leisha Thomas has been working almost entirely without fanfare, imagining a sound that's part Black Dice, part Slint and part Klein. 2021's 'CHUCKLE', released on Olan Monk's c.a.n.v.a.s. label, felt sketchy, anarchic and unhinged - at the time, we compared it with Dean Blunt, This Heat, La Timpa and Slint - and 'Is this a queue' plays to Thomas's keenest instincts, darkening idiosyncratic pencil strokes with confident, intentional gestures. In a year where seemingly everyone's attempting the rock-pop pivot, Thomas refines and focuses ideas that have coursed through not just their solo work, but their spresso-branded collaborations with Mica Levi, for years. This is Thomas's record, for sure, and its quirks are only strengthened by collaborations with their wider community of like-minded operatives: Ben Vince, Coby Sey, Valentina Megaletti and Leo Hermitt. Nothing feels cheap or rattled off for clout - if there's an artist featured, you'd better know there's a damn good reason.

Opener '6-9' is irresistibly incongruous, a cheeky false start that de-platforms Thomas's signature guitar sound, fudging crusty environmental recordings and weightless drones into a modish take on Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis's subterranean rhythmic experiments. We're on more familiar territory with '2 Numbers', but what starts as a tempo-fluxing slowcore slog is coolly stirred by background whispers and plasticky stabs that sound as if they've been wrenched from Kelis's Neptunes-produced first LP. It's hard to know exactly what Manchester-based Hermitt has contributed to this one, but the track's as poppy as Thomas allows themself to get, nearing the tape-dubbed, lo-fi preciousness of last year's 'Underground Love'. Elsewhere, even when Thomas forms what might be mistaken for a song, it's inevitably deconstructed or skewered; on 'Guarded', their wailed ad libs and chants drift in-and-out of step with grumbly strums and boxy, staggered drums.

"It's been a minute," they echo thru distortion and a heaping spoonful of reverb. And by 'GOAT Rosetta' there's almost nothing left, just feedback, growling distortion and barely discernible words sung into the cavernous expanse. Even the genius 'WHY WE HAVE TO MOVE', that centres Valentina Mageletti's most Danny Taylor turn behind the kit, sounds as if it's about to fray at the edges, with its lysergic, xenharmonic guitar whirrs swamping Thomas's mumbled words and angular improvisations. They melt 'Washing Machine'-era Sonic Youth strums and boss-tuned twangs with similarly skewed AutoTuned moans on the simmering, brilliant 'On Smoke', and on the album's sobering finale 'Palimpsest', Thomas's purposed splatter of guitar noises and lurching beats fall into step with Coby Sey's alert annunciations and Ben Vince's inventive sax drones, forming a ruff outline of London's most fertile nook.

If you've been as bored by this year's "experimental" rock offerings as we have, let 'Is this a queue' restore your faith - it's that good.

“The fifth studio album & last euphoric mind-trip to Kikagaku Moyo's imagined island. Best-suited for counting stars, looking at the ocean, and dancing in one’s daydream.”

Bag of Max Bag of Cass is a joint work from Zach Hill and Lucas Abela. Hill, while primarily known as a founding member of Death Grips, is a titan in music—a visionary drummer, master of velocity and compositional design. Abela’s practice stands alone in the world of free improvisation, forging entire universes literally from shards of amplified glass. These aren’t songs so much as vast, textured fields. Here, noise becomes a sonic environment of focus and intensity. For all its volatility, the music holds an unlikely stillness. Hill’s rhythms refract against Abela’s sustained, splintered overtones, forming a labyrinthine architecture ever ready to ensnare you.

“The silence is burning… ignited by a melody”

Going back to sleep… a lovingly gathered suite of windswept, heart-bursting DIY indie-pop and folk-indebted songs from an ensemble of contemporary luminaries. Centred around a node of antipodean artists predominantly recording and performing in intimate spaces, its ambition and sentiment extends to likeminded souls around the world.

The opening strum by Glenn Donaldson's The Reds, Pinks and Purples sets the breezy yet bittersweet atmosphere, its lavish tones and textures swirling beneath one of contemporary indie's most distinct voices. "There was a light in my head / wanted to die but I burned instead", he laments with a soaring baritone to revelatory effect. His Fruits and Flowers companions The Gabys, a low-key UK-based duo who first landed in our orbit with their self-titled cassette in 2021, follow with a burst of combustible energy. Despite being predominantly instrumental - untuned, overdriven riffage the order of the day - there lies an unshakable melodic impulse.

Devotees of Dutch group Lewsberg will recognise immediately the voice of frontman Arie Van Vliet, who appears here as new duo The Hobknobs with Yaël Dekker. The interplay between Van Vliet's and Dekker's voices works unexpectedly well, striking the perfect balance between heartfelt tenderness and the wry matter-of-factness that Lewsberg fans have come to love. New kids on the block Who Cares? were our most cherished discovery last year, their sound encapsulating a woozy pastoralism and their lyrics a sense of something deeply sinister yet darkly humorous: "you got your feet chopped and I’m here to stay, estranged, on this sunken rock..."

The Sprigs, Chateau, I Can I Can't and the Volcanic Tongue-backed Drunk Elk are evergreen exemplars of DIY primitivism and their songs are the fruits of impulsive budget recording. Act now, think later. From the uncanny gonzo-folk of 'Leagues of Marsh to Swallow Towers' and 'How Long on the Platform' to the reckless yet brutally tender 'Personal Favourite' - "recorded in the dark sometime around 2009" and released under a working title, for it was never meant to see the day - a sense of nervy sleep-deprivation and self-destructiveness emerges. Controlled chaos that culminates in the void-dwelling rush of 'Euros', a propulsive meditation on momentary hues and everlasting greys: "make it happy, make it sad / your gift is all I ever had".

The prolific David West returns under his Rat Columns guise with a ballad that feels like reconnecting with an old friend, a voice you've known your entire life. A balmy autumnal breeze that perfectly compliments the subdued elegance of The Lewers, who make their first appearance since their rapturous 518A debut, and who's lyrics perfectly capture the compilation's sentiment: "the wound that never heals / so deep but hard to reach". Time stands still with the arrival of Daily Toll, their bruised yet ultimately optimistic meditation on love and loss a weightless, atmospheric masterpiece. Lead Kata Szász-Komlós looks inward during a sublime instrumental section before a painful confession: "writing names across your neck / made it home but now I am a wreck".

Concluding the suite is Carla dal Forno's first single since Come Around (2022). An effortless, elegant reverie daubed with cautious desire, her voice soars over a delicate Foresteppe instrumental and was recorded during rehearsal sessions for her forthcoming album. A testament to chance and an unexpectedly beautiful moment during the songwriting process.

These songs capture a feeling of introspection that seems impossible to achieve when recording for anyone but yourself. We see it as a traversal through the now wonderfully diverse international pop underground, but more simply, a group of wide-eyed yet world-weary music makers performing on our imaginary stage.

"[...] jazz singers like this rarely sound so unpretentious, original and free." - The New York Times / Best Jazz Albums of 2023 "An elegant and powerful twist on traditional Mongolian music" - Ammar Kalia / Guardian "These songs sound so inventive, so free, yet so grounded — and if they end up calming your mind, the aim wasn’t to numb it, but to open it. " - Chris Richards / The Washington Post / Best Album of 2023 "Well, this is just plain enchanting. Marked by smooth transitions from gentle playfulness to sweet heartbreak, Enkhjargal Erkhembayar’s delivery would be right at home in an electronic downtempo recording or any late night jazz club where moonlight is a natural stage effect." - Dave Sumner / Bandcamp Daily Enji begins her third album with a stark reminder of her own humanity. “I am Ulaan,” she utters plainly in her native language of Mongolian, referring to a nickname affectionately given to her by her family. “I have to remember who I am,” she says, explaining her choice of a spoken monologue. “It empowers me.” Throughout Ulaan, Enji continues to find new ways to bring out those affirming expressions of herself. Drawing on the elegant blend of jazz and traditional Mongolian song on her previous album Ursgal, she leans into her strengths while breaking into bold new directions. With trusted collaborators Paul Brändle on guitar and Munguntovch Tsolmonbayar on bass at her side once again, she expands the band to include Mariá Portugal on drums and Joana Queiroz on clarinet—and her creative process expands along with it. “They have such deep feelings and such deep love of music,” Enji says of the group. As a result of these new partnerships, the compositions have opened up, bringing in lusher textures, more rhythm, and more interplay between musicians. Enji pushes her voice to new heights, too, effervescently fluttering over each track and moving in perfect lockstep with her band. Songs bubble up from spontaneous moments of inspiration. With “Zuud,” the imagery came to Enji in a melancholic dream. On “Uzegdel,” she evokes the feeling of a breathtaking view she saw from the window of an early Autumn flight on her way home to Mongolia. “Vogl” comes from her experience visiting the peaceful village of the same name, tracing the shape of the natural vista with her vocals. In some cases, she described these scenes to the band and worked out the feeling together. In others, the songs crystallized from reading out the lyrics. “I find my mother tongue in Mongolian is such a rhythmical language,” Enji explains. “So the melody just came out.” As Enji continues her journey of self-discovery, she continues to grow and adapt into new roles. With Ulaan, she bares more of her heart than we’ve seen from her yet, but she’s still got more to give—as a vocalist, a bandleader, and most importantly, as a storyteller. - shy thompson

In April 2024, Joseph Shabason and Nicholas Krgovich set off on a two-week tour of Japan, their first time performing in the country as Shabason & Krgovich. In an act of well-coordinated serendipity, Koji Saito of 7e.p. records enlisted Saya and Ueno of Tenniscoats, the revered Japanese duo, to tour with and perform backing band duties throughout their stops in Matsumoto, Nagoya, Kobe, Kyoto, and Tokyo.

The four could only rehearse twice, but it was all they needed. Their connection was immediate and felt in the music; their shows fluid, elastic, and just the right amount of unpredictable. Saito had anticipated this simpatico and arranged for recording engineers to meet them in Kobe, where they had a two-day stay at the famed Guggenheim House, a 117-year-old colonial-style residence that had been converted into an artist residency.

With no songs prepared, they began to play with melodies, improvising and pulling pieces from that spontaneity into wholes. Saya and Krgovich soon realized the closeness in their approach to lyric writing. From sharing Japanese nicknames for clouds while looking at the sky above a rest stop (fishscale cloud, dragon cloud, sardine cloud, sleep cloud, sheep cloud), searching for matching socks in a bin at a clothing store, to an ode to Tan Tan, a beloved panda who had recently died of old age at the Kobe Oji Zoo — they both seek out and sing to the magic in the everyday.

That’s what this experience came to feel like: magic, every day. As the group worked, they watched the Pacific Ocean advance and recede from the windows of the Guggenheim House. Over those two days, they’d compose and record eight songs, listed in order of creation, on the album that came to be called Wao.

"What is also cool about the album is that the house is very much not a recording studio so it sounds super live and because it's also right on the train tracks you can often hear the train in the recordings as it drives by. To me it adds so much charm and personality," Joseph describes. "The whole thing felt like a dream and was over so quickly so I kinda forgot about it until a few weeks after I got home. When I opened up the sessions is was really clear that we had done something special."

It all happened so quickly, an enchanting whirl. Dreamlike, they had fallen into and out of it. Only when the recordings arrived in the mail a few weeks later did that dreamy state sharpen into a memory and a moment that you can now revisit, over and over again.

The work of JJJJJerome Ellis lives comfortably in the gaps between silence and possibility. The Black disabled Grenadian-Jamaican-American artist creates atmospheric soundscapes with saxophone, organ, hammered dulcimer, electronics, and their voice. Improvisation is at the core of their artistry – often chipping away at large slabs of recordings to reveal the piece like a marble sculptor. It’s an expansive and interdisciplinary practice that allows JJJJJerome to adapt to any medium or form, including recorded music, live theatrical and performance art, scoring, spoken word and storytelling, and multimedia/visual works that incorporate sound. Living as a person who stutters, using their mouth to express themselves proved difficult growing up. The practice of spelling their performance moniker “JJJJJerome” stems from the realization that the word they stutter most frequently is their own name. Despite a brief placement in speech therapy as a child – Everything clicked when they picked up the saxophone in seventh grade. “I still stutter on the saxophone, but it’s different.” As an artist, their creative ethos now revolves around the exploration of stuttering through music, expounding upon the ability of each to shape time. They honor the stutter through art. Their career began when they started to improvise along with John Coltrane and Billie Holiday CDs on the horn. But as someone drawn to navigating limitations, JJJJJerome has since blossomed into an adept multi-instrumentalist, each instrument being a watershed in paving new avenues of potential sound worlds. Their voice is additionally guided by a reverence for the earth and ancestors – both human and otherwise. With maternal familial ties to the church, and memorable stories of their grandmother performing as a pianist and organist, JJJJJerome’s recent affinity for keyboards holds a meaningful weight. Forthcoming sophomore record Vesper Sparrow (Shelter Press) is born out of this connection to Black religious tradition and inheritance. It is a continuation of the artist’s ongoing study of the intersections between music and sound, stuttering, and Blackness, through the lens of time. The album is comprised of two complete thoughts, and hinges on a recorded stutter. JJJJJerome splits the four-part composition “Evensong” by fading out the stutter in part two, and sandwiches tracks three and four (“Vesper Sparrow” and “Black-Throated Sparrow”) in-between. “The stutter becomes a structuring moment,” they explain, regarding the opportunity to fill the time opened up. Suspension, then, becomes integral to JJJJJerome’s musical language. Both stuttering and granular synthesis can suspend moments in time, and “invite multiple ways of inhabiting, traversing, and connecting with others in those moments.” The artist also pulls in elements of pop production – electronic textures and distortions inspired in part by indie-rock; and spoken word, sampling, and audio manipulation drawn from Caribbean and Black American musics. JJJJJerome’s artistry has been recognized on a wide scale. Their debut record The Clearing (NNA Tapes, 2021) and accompanying book (published by Wendy’s Subway) was awarded the 2022 Anna Rabinowitz Prize for its “restless interrogation of linear time,” as described by esteemed writer Claudia Rankine. Their work has been presented by large cultural institutions, both internationally at the 2023 Venice Biennale and adventurous Rewire Festival; and at home in the US by the Whitney Museum, The Shed, the Center for African American Poetry and Poetics, and National Sawdust. JJJJJerome has additionally been awarded a Fulbright Fellowship (2015), Creative Capital Grant (2022), and several MacDowell residencies (2019, 2022). Recently, they have been commissioned by The Metropolitan Museum of Art and Ars Nova. A Virginia native, JJJJJerome currently lives in a monastery on traditional Nansemond and Chesepioc territory, aka Norfolk, VA. They live with their wife, poet-ecologist Luísa Black Ellis. earned a B.A. in music theory and ethnomusicology from Columbia University, and went on to lecture in Sound Design at Yale University. With childhood friend James Harrison Monaco, they create vast sonic-storytelling productions as James & JJJJJerome. It’s JJJJJerome’s dream to build a sonic bath house.

“‘A La Sala,’ I used to scream it around my house when I was a little girl, to get everybody in the living room; to get my family together. That’s kind of what recording the new album felt like. Emotionally there was a desire to get back to square-one between the three of us, to where we came from–in sonics and in feeling. Let’s get back there.” - Laura Lee Ochoa The title makes it clear. A La Sala (“To the Room” in Spanish), the fourth studio album by Khruangbin, is an exercise in returning in order to go further, and do so on your own terms. It extends the air of mystery and sanctity that’s key to how bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, drummer Donald “DJ” Johnson, Jr. and guitarist Mark “Marko” Speer approach music. Yet if 2020’s Mordechai, the last studio album Khruangbin made without collaborators, was a party record whose ensuing post-lockdown tour enhanced the band’s musical reputation far and wide, A La Sala is the measured morning after. It’s a gorgeously airy album made only in the company of the group’s longtime engineer Steve Christensen, with minimal overdubs. It is a porthole onto the bounties powering Khruangbin’s vision, a reimagining and refueling for the long haul ahead. A La Sala scales Khruangbin down to scale up, a creative strategy with the future in mind. It is also a response to the unique moment Khruangbin finds itself in now: following a decade spent cultivating extraordinary music paths, beginning a year when they'll perform for more people, in more iconic spaces, staging a live show that pushes a creative envelope peculiar to them alone. (Look for the band at major festivals and venues near you.) 2024 feels like both marker and pivot, cementing Khruangbin’s stature as a commercially and critically successful group that continues to be guided by creative possibilities. Such crossroads are familiar for iconic artists throughout the rock era — your Dylans, Stevies and Bowies, up thru turn-of-the-century Radiohead, all have navigated these straits. On A La Sala, Khruangbin also pulls exploration inward, spurning the din of the crowd’s expectations, mapping a personal direction home. The trio’s collective musical DNA and the years spent constructing it in Houston’s local-meets-global cultural stew ensure the band carries on sounding like no one but itself. A La Sala may in fact be Khruangbin’s purest distillation. A cascade of crisp melodies still emanates from Marko’s reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee’s minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ’s drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Where prior album-by-album growth seemed to point the narratives towards music’s polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like known intimacies. What once seemed like sonic invocations — spaghetti-western film scores, found-sounds, dancing moments more living room than rooftop disco — are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! And there’s a freshness to the instrumental interactivity on A La Sala that’s less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in. That depth is not about therapeutic self-reflection, but a profound desire to celebrate the world’s external wonders. A La Sala invites intimate intercontinental partying. The first single is, after all, called “A Love International.” “Pon Pón” holds the band’s table at the West African discotheque; yet the joy now moves to the corner left of the dancefloor, where the back-and-forth between Laura Lee’s bass, DJ’s hi-hat, and Marko’s tuneful rhythm scratches, is a marvel of knowing head-nods. There’s “Hold Me Up (Thank You),” a familial sweetness in its spare lyrics, feeding off the rhythm section’s sturdy funk shuffle, and a chorus on which Marko’s guitar evokes both sides of the Atlantic in confident unshowy rhythms. They’re on “Todavía Viva” too, next to DJ’s noir-soul rim-shots, synth strings and a pregnant pause that is Laura Lee’s favorite moment on the album, the mood kin to the band’s glorious live interpretations of G-funk fantasias. And the rocked-up miniature, “Juegos y Nubes,” demonstrates Khruangbin’s Houston-born superpower to culture-mix, a dancing mood less concerned with worldly glamor than communal grooving. “I read something long ago, attributed to Miles Davis. He said, ‘When they play fast, you play slow. When they play slow, you play fast.’ And it's definitely how I've approached looking at music: Don't follow the trends. And if the trend is this, then do something else.” - Marko From the get-go, Khruangbin’s journey has been emphatically its own: a sound and visual representation with few precedents, ignoring pop expectations, relying only on internal inspirations, and a multitude of visions. It’s a mindset of penetrating the self, connecting to the surrounding world, modeling your own life experiences. This ethos is threaded throughout A La Sala, audible in the album’s form and function. (It’s even visible in the vinyl version’s physical package, which will be released as a set of seven distinctive covers and color-sets — more on which in a sec.) The building blocks for the album’s 12 songs were jigsaw pieces found in Khruangbin’s creative past. Having stockpiled ideas originally set down as off-the-cuff recordings (voice-memos made at sound-checks, on long voyages, as absentminded epiphanies), they began fitting those pieces together in the studio. Which parts were apt? Which could be massaged and stretched out? Which inspired new sections or rhythms or musical interactions? Once more, Khruangbin’s familial DNA kicked in. Layer-by-layer, the intimate work, rework and re-rework bore new fruit. They also brought back a strategy once foundational to their records: seeding an album with field recordings. Some results fold directly into A La Sala’s down-home feel. “Three From Two” and “May Ninth” are wistful mid-tempo numbers, with guitar melodies that reside somewhere between Bakersfield and by-the-riverside, cues that, for all its borderless inclusivity, another core Khruangbin value is being steeped in American roots. And in the landscape that music comes from. Like all albums prior to Mordechai, Marko made sure environmental sounds — natural and man-made — appeared as textures. (At times philosophically: the group recorded while cricket chirps played in their headphones, presumably for terroir.) It’s how A La Sala achieves such interconnected set-and-setting-ness. Other results are more metaphorical, especially in Khruangbin’s flirtation with ambient spaces. The dramatically beatless “Farolim de Felgueiras” and “Caja de la Sala” both feature only Marko’s unmistakable guitar dueting with Laura Lee’s Moog, lightly layered with sounds of shoes on stone steps, and cicadas in an open field. The closing “Les Petits Gris” more fully reduces and fleshes out the ambiance, with a piano and a simple single-note bass pattern, Marko’s plaintive spare guitar echoing the melody of a ballerina-turning music box. It feels an apt way of ending — as a passing of this particular moment, preparation for the next one, soon-come. Even the seven different covers that adorn A La Sala’s various vinyl editions offer a throughline from the music into Khruangbin’s current frame. Designed by the band using Marko’s multitude of travelog photos, they are windows from the band’s living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances illuminating what is going on inside. These are also directly related to David Black’s images of DJ, Laura Lee and Marko which accompany A La Sala, and to Khruangbin’s live staging reinvention. It’s all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead. “All the little moments you capture. You don't see how impactful they are until you hear what eventually comes of them. A lot of those scraps end up being the thing — and you don't realize it until it's ‘The Thing.’” - DJ

This is a rare and lovely gem of an EP by an indie pop/folk artist influenced by jazz and MPB. It is a work that fully demonstrates the soul-cleansing freshness of jazz and the poetic and soft sensibility that is omnipresent in indie music, as well as the cuteness of the Japanese lyrics.

A longtime favorite at our shop, El Michels Affair—New York-based instrumental funk/soul band renowned for their unique “cinematic soul” sound and a flagship act of the esteemed Big Crown Records—returns with a brand new album, featuring none other than Shintaro Sakamoto as a guest! Rooted in funk and soul yet infused with a breezy, urban summer feel, this exquisite release blossoms into a light and airy indie pop-soul masterpiece. A refreshing soundscape full of timeless musical elegance, perfect for strolling through sun-drenched city streets.

A longtime favorite at our shop, El Michels Affair—New York-based instrumental funk/soul band renowned for their unique “cinematic soul” sound and a flagship act of the esteemed Big Crown Records—returns with a brand new album, featuring none other than Shintaro Sakamoto as a guest! Rooted in funk and soul yet infused with a breezy, urban summer feel, this exquisite release blossoms into a light and airy indie pop-soul masterpiece. A refreshing soundscape full of timeless musical elegance, perfect for strolling through sun-drenched city streets.

LIMITED EDITION OF 5000 180 GRAM OPAQUE DARK BLUE VINYLProduced by Brian Paulson at River North Recorders in Chicago and released by Touch and Go Records in April of 1991, the six songs on Spiderland methodically mapped a shadowy new continent of sound. The music is taut, menacing, and haunting; its structure built largely on absence and restraint, on the echoing space between the notes, but punctuated by sudden thrilling blasts of unfettered fury. It is a sound that no one had heard before and that no one will ever forget. The eerie, now-iconic black and white cover photo of the four-band member’s heads breaking the surface of the water was taken by their friend Will Oldham. Spiderland spawned a whole new genre, frequently called Post-Rock, and came to be regarded as one of the most important and influential records of the past thirty years. SLINT broke up shortly before Spiderland was released. Band members went on to play in Tortoise, the Breeders, Palace, The For Carnation, Papa M, Evergreen, Interpol, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

"Real Emo" only consists of the DC emotional hardcore scene and the late '90s Delaware Valley screamo scene.... Frail were at the epicenter of that vibrant straight edge youth gaggle, screaming their throats bloody in baggy pants. Discontent with the metallic hardcore format, the quintet pursued Gen-X's ferocious, noisy rage against everything at San Diego's galloping pace. No Industry—the band's first and only vinyl compilation—includes vital singles for the Yuletide, Bloodlink, and Kidney Room labels, plus rare comp tracks from across their '93-95 run. This 17-song limited run of 300 LPs is housed in a hand-silk screened chipboard jacket and includes a 24-page 'zine chronicling the band in notes, quotes, photos, flyers, and revolutionary literature. Make Your Own Noise.

言わずと知れたスロウコアの大名盤！これは是非聞いておくがいい。自国のソウル、ゴスペル、ファンクにとどまらず、ニューエイジ・ミュージック始祖ヤソスや日本からは原マスミまで、世界各地のオブスキュアなサウンドを掘り起こしてきた米国の大名門〈Numero〉からは、1998年に〈Up Records〉からリリースされたDusterのデビュー・スタジオ・アルバム『Stratosphere』が25周年を記念してアニヴァーサリー・リイシュー。スロウコアの第一波の頂点にたつ一枚であり、子宮の中で聞くべき！暗い空間と閉じた瞼のための音楽にして、パンクの鋸歯状のエッジを持つアンビエント・ミュージック。

A tortured songwriter and struggling addict who jolted the tired Chicago DIY scene with his own brand of primal despair, Trey Gruber and his band Parent were on track to join the ranks of Twin Peaks, Mild High Club, and Whitney. His death in 2017 at the age of 26 brought it all to a halt. In his final years Trey wrote and recorded hundreds of previously unheard demos, dandelions in the cracked concrete of 21st century disconnect, an alphabet’s worth of which have been compiled by his family and friends for his only album: Herculean House Of Cards.