MUSIC
7248 products
The 1993 split point between pop punk and emo is no better illustrated than by Garden Variety's self-titled debut. While Billy and Bivouac flirted with the mainstream, this Long Island trio proposed at the post-hardcore prom. Muscular octave guitar chug with a side of late night zine work at the local diner. Backbeat heartbreak, hold the FX. Thank Charles Maggio for your favorite record next time you see him at the Paramus mall.
The 1993 split point between pop punk and emo is no better illustrated than by Garden Variety's self-titled debut. While Billy and Bivouac flirted with the mainstream, this Long Island trio proposed at the post-hardcore prom. Muscular octave guitar chug with a side of late night zine work at the local diner. Backbeat heartbreak, hold the FX. Thank Charles Maggio for your favorite record next time you see him at the Paramus mall.
Finally! The sixth studio album Dinosaur Jr. have recorded in the 20 years since their triumphal rebirth. There have been several live and/or closet cleaning collections to keep us punters sated for the five years since Sweep It Into Space, but there is nothing quite like having a full slab of new Dino tunes to fry your ears. And There Near has all knobs set to Extra Crispy. Created in short, intense bursts over the course of a year at Amherst's Bisquiteen Studio, There Near was recorded almost entirely by Dino's core trio -- king of the thunder tubs, Murph, human tornado Lou Barlow on bass/vocals and the inimitable J Mascis on guitar/vocals -- with a bit of piano and organ work by local master musician, Ken Mauri. And the album roars from start to finish. Trying to define the essence of Dino's sound is never easy. It's an instantly recognizable blend of loose vocals, sharp guitars and an animalistic rhythm section, but these parts combine into a whole far more magical and exciting than its components. In strict rock-write terms, you might call the approach “post-core power balladeering,” but what use is that? Dinosaur Jr. invented their formula for noise/pop jiggering around the same time Husker Dü were trying out some of the same ideas, all of which got made popular by a band they inspired called Nirvana. But that's an old and much-told tale. J's guitar tone throughout There Near is even more animalistic than usual, perhaps owing partly to the fact he's playing through a recently acquired 70's Mesa Boogie MK 1 amp. “I bought the same amp that Chris Dixon had when we made our first album,” J says. “Chris recorded us at his house with his amp. It has a real interesting sound I haven't gotten for a while. And it's something I was trying to get back to on this album. The Stones started using Mesa Boogies in the '70s after they heard Santana playing through them. Then The Clash copied The Stones, etc. As the years went on into the MK 2 and so on, the Boogie got more metal sounding. But the MK 1 has a souped-up Fender sound. You always hear how Rick Rubin always makes bands he's producing sit down and listen to their first album and say let's get back to that sound. So I just gave myself his advice." Asked about the philosophical opacity of his lyrical approach, J says. “I'm not always sure what a song is 'about' when I'm writing it. I guess the meaning will present itself at some point. I'll use whatever words work. And a lot of it will be influenced by whatever esoteric mumbo jumbo I'm reading at the time. I try not to think too hard about any of it. I think it's a drag that Spotify shows all the lyrics to a song. What's the fun of that? Japanese labels always wanted us to give them lyrics to print. I wouldn't hand them over so they'd just have to try and figure them out. It has always been better to make up your own version of lyrics to songs by the Stones or R.E.M. or whoever. I mean, R.E.M.'s whole thing was about mumbling. I never understood why they caved to pressure and started enunciating." “Someone suggested this album sounds more upbeat, but I guess that's to do with my delivery, because lyrics like 'No Friends' might make you think otherwise. But I usually write in the third person. It's all just make believe.” While it's true There Near does present a slightly softer lyrical edge on some of J's songs, even a relatively gorgeous ballad like “Put It Down” eventually explodes in a shower of fiery guitar distentions. It's just what happens. Meanwhile the two tunes provided by Lou -- “Blowin' Up” and “No One's Ready” -- may have less frenzied musical settings, but their lyrics sound like pointed and timely attacks on our current regime. As is so often the case, Lou's melodic constructions have a friendly mien, but his lyrics cut like knives. There Near continues Dinosaur Jr.'s string of classic albums. The new songs are sure to sound amazing with their monstrous riffs blaring from live stages amidst their historical brethren. Can't wait to catch them live, but in the meantime There Near will be a constant companion. The nearer the better. --Byron Coley
Few figures in Chicago soul operated quite like Lenny "King Creole" LaCour. Across the 1960s and '70s, he built a sprawling catalogue of R&B, harmony soul, funk and early disco releases, issuing records through a network of independent labels and aliases that have since become prized collector's items.Magic Touch: The Soulful Sounds of Lenny "King Creole" LaCour gathers 26 standout recordings from his remarkable body of work. Featuring artists including The Mar-J's, The Swinging Hearts, Junior & The Classics, Evelyn Smith, Filet Of Soul and Harvey Scales and The Seven Sounds, the collection traces LaCour's knack for crafting infectious grooves, heartfelt ballads and dancefloor-ready soul.Expanded with extensive notes, rare photographs and archival memorabilia, this anthology shines a light on a fascinating and often overlooked chapter of American independent soul music.
In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.
Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.
Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytum comosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”
But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.
The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.
“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.
Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.
Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’s new renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.
-Andy Beta
From Asmara, Eritrea(formerly Ethiopia) Tewolde Redda revolutionized the sounds of traditional Eritrean music by amplifying his kirar, playing his Eko electric guitar, and recording six singles in the first part of the 1970’s. Including the first Eritrean songs to use a horn section, traditional songs reworked into his new sound, and originals influenced by radio broadcasts from the United States military base in Asmara, Kagnew Station, these ten songs originally released on the Philips, Amha, and Yared labels show off his talents with stringed instruments, a talented back up band, and often the hand clapped beat shifting into double time near the song’s end. Tewolde’s thick, deep voice sings songs of love over somber and joyous tunes. Comes in a “tip-on” sleeve with extensive liner notes, lyrical translations, and unpublished photos. A co-release with Mitmitta Musika of Addis Abeba, Ethiopia. Second pressing coming around March, 2022.
Damian Dalla Torre returns with People Pleaser, a record shaped by movement, collaboration and an ever-deepening relationship with sound as environment. The Leipzig-based multi-instrumentalist, composer and producer first found wide attention with his 2022 debut Happy Floating, and his subsequent album I Can Feel My Dreams was named the #1 Contemporary Album of 2024 by The Guardian, an accolade that broadened his audience and deepened confidence in his evolving voice. That second album, written between Europe and South America, opened unexpected doors and took Dalla Torre to stages across New York, Japan and Italy. “When you release music, it’s very intimate,” he reflects. “You show your emotions pretty raw. I was kind of scared. But getting so much positive feedback gave me a lot of self-confidence to try out more.” People Pleaser begins in that quiet shift of confidence. The title stayed with him for months before he committed to it. “It was a working title for a long time,” he says. “I didn’t actually think I would use it. But this term also felt somehow relevant in connection with the phase of self-negotiation during the development process. Some aspects are related to pressure, others are positive.” The ambiguity felt right. Rather than presenting it as a statement, Dalla Torre leaves it open, an invitation rather than a confession. At the centre of People Pleaser is collaboration. Guitarist Bertram Burkert, whose playing stretches from classical delicacy to electric abstraction, joined Dalla Torre in the studio for an intensive three-day session, recording a wide palette of textures that would become the backbone of the album. Vocalist Laura Zöschg, a key live collaborator, harpist Babett Niclas, organist Felix Römer, tape experimentalist Markus Rom, marimba and vibraphonist Volker Heuken and Japanese artist Manami Kakudo also contribute, creating a sound that feels intimate yet expansive.
Initially conceived as a short-run cassette for Altered States Tapes, YL Hooi’s nameless collection of textural apparitions oscillate between icy DIY minimalism, FX-drenched atmospherics and nang chamber dub. A ghost-like transmission, Hooi's voice serves to anchor an array of sonic abstractions and impressionistic melodic motifs as a sense of purgatorial ambience dominates throughout. Co-produced with alleged fellow Kallista Kult member Tarquin Manek (LST, M. Quake), Untitled’s ultimate sensation is its halfway state, as if caught between worlds. The album's final form speaks of its origins, recorded intermittently over a two year period (2017-2019). The extended time passage seeps into the song structures, spiralling and mutating from the same centre - the elegiac pulse of opener 'Title' presages the hymnal lilt of 'Straight Thru', before birthing the inverted bossa nova of 'W/O Love'. The result is a constantly shifting tableaux of shared liminal spaces. These songs seemingly emerge in plumes of smoke, magician's tricks conjured from the ether. It's a vision that ossifies at Untitled's midpoint with a cover of Love Joys' 'Stranger', the lovers rock original morphed into the transportive intimacy of Hooi's own hazy inner space, a totem of the LP’s amorphous and ultimately sensuous qualities. The sound from both down under and way out there in subspace, Untitled is an inspired masterstroke of experimental mystics. This 2021 Efficient Space edition is remastered and robed in new artwork that honours the Melbourne-based earth dragon’s Chinese and Russian heritage.
The original 1983 release of Feel My Love is a boogie/modern soul classic by Vaughan Mason & Butch Dayo.
A full instrumental version of ‘Garbology’, the 2021 collaboration between American rapper Aesop Rock and hip-hop producer Blockhead. On-and-off creative foils for each other’s work going back years, the pair complemented each other perfectly on the original album, but this slate fully exposes Blockhead’s sparse and often desolate production work.
Evidence has traveled the world, released a string of acclaimed albums with Dilated Peoples and as a solo artist, has become a respected producer crafting beats for Kanye West, Beastie Boys and Linkin Park among others. For his part, Alchemist has become one of rap’s triple threats, producing for Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Nas and many more. Alchemist is also an accomplished rapper and Eminem’s touring DJ. While they were building their respective careers, Evidence and Alchemist had worked together regularly collaborating on Dilated Peoples albums, Evidence’s solo material and Alchemist’s releases. As the pair continued collaborating, they began labeling themselves as Step Brothers when they would record, as noted on Evidence’s The Layover EP. The pair then decided it was time to record an album together. Now as the Step Brothers, Evidence and Alchemist deliver another stellar musical achievement, Lord Steppington, which delivers lyric-driven, punchline-heavy and intricate rhymes. Lord Steppington boasts the best of the duo peppered with frequent collaborators and friends, including Action Bronson, Roc Marciano, Domo Genesis,The Whooliganz, Styles P, Fashawn, Rakaa, Blu and Oh No.
This is a solo percussion work recorded in 1980 and released in 1981 by Masahiko Togashi, one of Japan’s foremost percussionists and drummers. After the accident that left him partially paralyzed, Togashi developed his own techniques and performance methods, using drums, bells, gongs, and a wide range of percussion instruments to capture the unique sound world he envisioned. This album documents that deeply personal sonic exploration.
Haruomi Hosono's 1975 masterpiece “TROPICAL DANDY” is being reissued in long-awaited analog format to celebrate its 50th anniversary.
Two years after his first solo album, “HOSONO HOUSE” (1973), this record of an era in which he steered a more free, exotic, and multinational sound, and his second solo album, full of tropical sensations and hybridity, is an important work that marks the moment Japanese pop music connected with the world music map.
This is a precious reissue of Haruomi Hosono's musical adventure, a turning point that led to the “Tropical Trilogy” and the formation of YMO, which can now be experienced once again.
Julia Holter always knew there were multiple forms her song “Materia” could take. The tune’s dynamic, Hildegard von Bingen-inspired melody and dense modal chords stood on their own without a complex arrangement on her wondrous 2024 album Something in the Room She Moves, but she felt a lingering desire to expand the texture and stretch out the harmony. Though she could hear the potential orchestration in her head, Something was already abundant with layers of sound by the time she finished it. She stuck with the original form of “Materia,” then, her cresting voice and blue Wurlitzer hosting games of harmonic hide-and-seek above subtle electronics. But on the new Materia, a kind of companion LP or sequel to Something, Holter has realized not one but two distinct versions of the song. “Materia 2” is a hallucinatory dream of drum machine, fretless bass, and clarinet, Holter’s voice spiraling through the ether alongside that of Jessika Kenney. She reconsiders the lyrics, too, novel fragments of surrealistic images reinforcing the original’s link between spirit and body, between love and blood. And on “Materia 3,” Holter literally slows down the take from Something. (It’s intended to be experienced as a “bonus track” in an homage to the CD era of her youth.) The change not only emphasizes the unpredictable glory of the harmonies within but also reiterates the song’s emotional sophistication, the sense that it’s about learning how to live. Materia is only seven tracks long, but Holter works in nearly that many modes here. There is the slowed “Materia” and the version reimagined for two voices, of course, but there are also two tracks that spooled out of the DAW project files and full band she built for Something. There are two astounding improvisations: one where she manipulates her voice so that each word seems to contain a symphony and another that is one of Materia’s most spellbinding and emotional pieces, “My Twin,” from which Holter lifted a riff to build the song “Fantasy.” These seven songs show that Holter is among her generation’s most open writers of art-pop, moving among ideas and idioms with exploratory aplomb. Materia is a kind of playground for Holter, where each distinct scene steadily coheres into a moving whole.
Hot on the heels of ‘Mordechai’, the critically acclaimed third album from US psych-rockers Khruangbin, the Texas trio are set to become the latest act to present their own LateNightTales in the popular, long-running musician-curated album series.Having first come to prominence in 2013 when producer and D.J. Bonobo included Khruangbin’s ‘A Calf Born in Winter’ in his own collection of songs for the series, the little known Houston trio had yet to release an album, but have since gone on to become international superstars forming their own exotic, individual sound. “The LateNightTales series is such a special thing to be a part of because we wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for Bonobo’s LateNightTales, because that’s how we got into the LNT family – and got a break.”With a mind-blowing selection of tracks that cross borders and cultures, Khruangbin’s deep love of global grooves – from Asian pop to Nigerian reggae – Japanese mellow groove to Latina flavas – are steeped in eclecticism; Nazia Hassan’s Hindi-disco ‘Khushi’, produced by British-Indian legend Biddu, South Korean rock band Sanullim who contribute ‘Don’t Go’, a pair of African bangers from Nigerian Maxwell Udoh and Roha Band, from Ethiopia; a diversion to Belarus for Песняры and thence to Madrid for the strident vocal performance of Paloma San Basilio with ‘Contigo’ before hightailing back to Texas.Elsewhere, the Lone Star state reps proudly, with David Marez and Kelly Doyle plus, in the LateNightTales tradition, the band deliver an exclusive, horizontally brilliant version of Kool & The Gang’s ‘Summer Madness’, while the mix concludes with a spoken word piece by Tierney Malone, accompanied by fellow Houstonian Geoffrey Muller’s atmospheric banjo rendering of Erik Satie’s ‘Gnossienne’.“It’s cool to think about what you would listen to late at night, as a band together, lighting a spliff, kinda vibe. We definitely wanted to cover as much global territory as possible; so it was the globe and then home. We wanted to show the treasures from our hometown, or people from our hometown that the rest of the world probably doesn’t know. That’s what makes Khruangbin Khruangbin. The stubbornness about being so hometown-centric but what makes Houston is this this constant international influence. That’s that gulf stream, bringing it right into Houston. So I guess that’s kind of the theme.”The LateNightTales series was established back in 2001 with Fila Brazilia taking to the controls and mixing up the first of what would continue to be the first choice of music connoisseurs worldwide. Since then, the series has seen releases from the likes of The Flaming Lips, Hot Chip, Floating Points, David Holmes, Bonobo, Jon Hopkins, Röyksopp and many more.
Phillip Fullwood was born in Kingston, Jamaica, a cousin of bassist George ‘Fully’ Fullwood, before moving to the parish of Saint Ann’s, and then on to Linstead, Saint Catherine. Perhaps it was the importance of the region’s history with slavery that inspired him, but as a young man hanging around the local nyahbinghi community he started pursuing Rastafari.“I was twelve years old before my mother cut my dreadlocks. Cut my hair off my head. I was no rasta then, yunno. And then after a while I become rasta because I was hanging with guys like Sons of Negus and Ras Michael.”The move to St Catherine gave Phillip not only a spiritual direction in life, but also close friendships with two youths named Eric Donaldson and Freddie McKay.“We used to play together. Freddie know my father and my brother. I know his mother. She used to ride a donkey come to town to the market and go back to the country the next day. She was a poor luck lady. Didn’t have anything really. So me an’ Freddie become friends, yunno. Freddie McKay occupation was a painter and do entertainment on the side. He was a good stage actor, a good dancer. Eric Donaldson used to be a fisherman. He lived at a place called Bog Walk. I hear he have a club there now. But Freddie was my friend and him love singing. We used to stay over by Freddie little room. His girlfriend went to America and she sent a picture of her back to him. That’s why he sing ‘your picture is hanging on the wall’. Because of that picture. And the song become a hit.”Phillip’s first foray into song-writing came with ‘Old Joe’ for Freddie McKay, released on Freddie’s debut album for Studio One.“You know how I write that song? My father was town councillor and he had a man called Mr. James, he was kind of handicapped. Walk on his hands. One day I went over there and I asked Mr. James ‘Look man I’m hungry, I need some food’. Do you know what he told me? ‘Son if you can’t buy land you can’t buy stone and if you can’t buy beef you can’t buy bone.’ And he was eating a steak at the time. I started to cry. I went back over to Freddie’s house and there was a guy called Privy. He used to play with the Soul Defenders. They were cooking and I tell what the man said to me. And Privy said, ‘don’t you know Joe and Job is the same name?’ That’s why Freddie sing ‘You just can’t buy land if you can’t buy stone. Old Job I don’t want your job’. Yunno? That’s how I become a writer.”Phillip, now inspired to write poetry and song lyrics, travelled around the country selling African literature printed in London, getting a few cents for each publication sold. On one such trip he met the young Winston Rodney, aka Burning Spear, and was soon writing songs with Spear, and touring as a percussionist in his band. In America they recorded ‘The Whole World Wants To Be Free’ together, and also Phillip’s first lead vocal on ‘Love Everyone’, a longing plea for love and unity. His close relationship to Burning Spear gave Phillip valuable insight into studio work, and his move into production and mixing was inevitable, soon resulting in the profound self-production ‘I Gave You My Word’ in 1979, with arrangement and backing vocals by Winston Rodney.Also in 1979, Phillip met Winston McKenzie, with whom he would start the group I-Mo-Jah.“Imojah mean ‘Unity’ in Swahili. I used to do upholstery in a room I rented in a little dancehall and Winston’s mother used live cross the street from the beach and that’s how I met him. He come to America when he was 14. He’s from Saint Ann’s too. And when I come to America I used to stay at his house in New Rochelle, New York.”In 1982 Phillip moved to the US where the I-Mo-Jah group, which had been started in Jamaica, gained a third member with vocalist Cassandra Jenkins.“Cassandra lived around the block. She’s a young American girl, only sixteen at the time. I was in my thirties. I think Winston McKenzie was in his thirties. I don’t know where she’s at. She was a nice girl. She used to come over to Winston and hang out. Her parents never approve of her being around us either. She was in to reggae – a few Americans get into it.”While in the US, they started going over the rhythm tracks that Phillip had brought with him on master tape, deciding which to re-record and create news songs over. The backing tracks featured Jamaican musical dignitaries such as Sly and Robbie, Leroy ‘Horsemouth’ Wallace and Clive ‘Azul’ Hunt, and would form the backbone of the ‘Rockers From The Land Of Reggae’ album. New vocals were recorded at SFZ studio in Long Island and New Age Studio in Queens, with further overdubs on keyboards and lead guitar, and the album was mixed by Phillip.“Them give me the board and I do the mixing myself. I don’t know if it come out good or if it come out bad. I gave Spear a copy of the album and he said ‘yeah it sound good’. There was a man who played the music over the radio and Freddie McKay say ‘man, I hear the music play over the air - you sound good’, and I never continue after Freddie McKay tell me he heard the music playing. I was never meant to be a singer to tell you the truth.”The striking sleeve, in black and white with green handwritten typography, told the story of Jamaica, with Arawaks overseeing the arrival of Christopher Columbus’ ship Santa Maria, whilst between two sound systems the dreads were dancing and smoking a spliff under a tree. The art was drawn by Magnus Johnstone, a painter and deejay who presented the radio show ‘Reggae Mukasa’ on WMBR, and would later become the foremost champion of the burgeoning hip hop scene in Boston.“Yeah yeah! He used to live in Roxbury, Massachusetts. He used to have a radio program. He was living more over on the black side. When I used to go to his house we used to drink Guinness stout, smoke weed, and he had a big room with a lot of painting. And we went to an art gallery one night and I was scared because there was a lot of white people. I got used to it. I got a lot of white friends after that.”With its off-kilter mix and eccentric vocals, the I-Mo-Jah album was never destined for mainstream success. But its distribution was seriously derailed by some unfortunate events.“When I made ‘Rockers From The Land Of Reggae’ I was taking about 500 to Jamaica and I was told I had to have a license to go through the customs. I got fed up and I just leave the album with them. They wanted me to get a license and all them things, and I said ‘Why I want a license to bring my own thing to Jamaica?’. They said no, so I leave them at customs. I don’t know what happened to them. Maybe they sell them. And that was the end of it. I give the rest of them to Chin Randy’s in Jamaica Queens to distribute.”And so ‘Rockers From The Land Of Reggae’ soon vanished into obscurity. By 1983 Phillip Fullwood had settled permanently in the US and virtually retired from music. Over the years, partly fuelled by its extreme rarity, the album’s reputation has grown immensely, and original copies now command a very high price. Phillip is thrilled that this reissue will now expose it to a wider audience.“Life happen that way. I got kids and grandkids. I’m just a small guy who was with Spear and just tried to do my thing, like everybody else in the entertainment biz. My occupation, my passport you know says entertainer. Wishing a t’ing, yunno.”
Japanese Edition with Obi. The album is one of the most influential albums of the post-rock, electronica, and “acoustic school” that followed.
Reverend Baron’s singular troubadour soul may best understand the capacity music has to span the distance between points on a map and pages in a calendar. Daniel, the acoustic instrumental follow-up to 2022’s Karma Chief label debut, From Anywhere…, expands the world beyond LA’s concrete canyons and overpasses to the bustling, churning sea of life that is Mexico City, to the sparse, rolling landscape of Red Cloud, Nebraska. In each locale, the constant companion was a nylon-stringed acoustic guitar — with a well-traveled history of its own. “It was my father’s guitar,” recalls Danny Garcia, the man behind the Reverend. “I found out a few years ago that it was my grandfather’s as well.” Ever-present since his childhood, the Mexican acoustic has taken on increased meaning for Garcia with each passing year. Hours upon hours spent playing, traveling, and breathing meaning into its fretboard have made it both a tool and talisman. “There’s the obvious bloodline and family and link…that link through history,” confides Garcia. “It’s kinda the only family heirloom I have.” Over the last while, all this playing (or “noodling” as Danny puts it) had Reverend Baron chasing a sound — one which belies the guitar’s origins. It’s a sound he would hear from time to time, and when it came to record Daniel, it would be his true magnetic north (or south as it were). Spinning through Daniel, and you will hear echoes of Antonio Bribiesca and Luiz Bonfa's guitar tones. Dig deeper and you’ll see the bones of Townes Van Zandt and Nick Drake guitar textures as well. While not claiming their virtuosity in his playing, the soul and vulnerability that have become calling cards for the first two Reverend Baron albums complement these influences. There is a warmth in Daniel that takes center stage in these acoustic meditations. From brief, fluid moments like “El Monte” and “How Glad” to the high-lonesome “Muchacho,” the songs drift like cumulus clouds over a deep blue skyway. Their graceful float is in stark contrast to the album’s origins. The studio Garcia was using for his intended second release on Karma Chief was a victim of the LA wildfires in January of 2025. “[The fires] halted work on my record,” says Garcia. “So I ended up leaving and went to Mexico City for a few months, and so worked quite a bit [on Daniel] there.” With his striped-down set up -- featuring his guitar, a few microphones, and a laptop -- the time in Mexico City set the tone for the project. “I just came into this space because it seemed like I could just do it…it seemed like it was time, and I didn’t have to force anything.” After leaving CDMX, Reverend Baron spent a few weeks in Red Cloud. While all the traveling and miles energize Garcia, this small midwestern village’s peaceful and unassuming nature was the ideal spot to focus and create. “LA is home and has its own cultural juice, which I love…Nebraska is very quiet. No one disturbs you, and I can just work and concentrate for weeks [there].” Daniel’s 11 tracks criss-cross the laylines of border music and folk, but categorizing them along a fault line or genre tag misses the point. These acoustic numbers move with a deliberate ease, never overstaying their welcome. The songs respond to time and distance with equal parts reflection and transparency; both mirror and window to the soul. Daniel is Reverend Baron’s conversation with his bloodline, influences, and the stops along the way. By the album’s closer, “Velasco,” Daniel’s conversation becomes your invitation to search for a path along that great sonic continuum housed within a song.
Their soulful funk awareness might have found its grandest stage with their self-titled 1979 “debut” for Mercury, an album that covered the band’s gritty soul with a layer of stifling L.A. gloss, that caused few heads to turn, and that marked the beginning of the end for Father's Children. Years before the coke dust had settled, another album’s worth of material had been tracked, the creative supernova that should have ushered the group into the nation's consciousness years prior. Who's Gonna Save the World is that 1973 explosion, conceived prematurely and then uncovered decades into a lengthy incubation inside producer Robert Hosea Williams’ suburban beltway garage. Unreleased previously, Father’s Children’s true freshman offering is a work genuinely concerned with its own time and place, bringing together comet-hailing funk, sunny group harmonies, fuzz-guitar solos, shimmering keys, bubbling percussion, spiritual prophecy, and dub experiments. Our deluxe LP edition includes the bonus 45 “Linda Movement” b/w “Intellect” and a folio full of promo photos that track the band’s evolution from D.C. doo-woppers to L.A disco denizens.
Sooj — a collaborative project between members of Duster and Dirty Art Club. Picking up where their 2024 two-sider Anhedonia II b/w Ecstasy Cowgirl left off, Crusher sees Duster’s slowcore drift dissolve into Dirty Art Club’s sample-heavy, collage-minded production. The result is neither band, nor side project, but something more elusive — a third space built from tape hiss, chopped memory, and late-night signal bleed. Across its runtime, the album avoids the gravitational pull of nostalgia. Instead, it hovers in a liminal present — part collaboration, part escape route.
Jim Jarmusch and Anika first crossed paths at the Sacred Bones 15th Anniversary celebration in 2022, where both Anika and SQÜRL performed. Jim was immediately struck by Anika’s performance, while Anika admired Jim as a mentor who had stayed true to his unique vision throughout his career. This mutual respect led to a creative collaboration, which culminated in the haunting soundtrack for Jarmusch’s film Father Mother Sister Brother.
Jim first invited Anika to record a cover of Jackson Browne’s “These Days,” inspired by Nico’s iconic version. This fully arranged track, prepared by Anika and featuring the Kaleidoskop string quartet, was recorded in Berlin and appears as a bonus track on the album as “These Days (Berlin Version).” Jim later mixed a more minimal version of the song, adding several electric guitar tracks. While in Berlin, Jim revealed to Anika that the only preexisting track in the film would be Dusty Springfield’s “Spooky.” Anika, who had performed a live version, suggested they cover it. The stripped-back version they created featuring just vocals, upright bass, finger snaps, and a distorted organ riff was chosen to open the film’s credits.
Beyond these covers, much of the film’s score was born out of improvisation. Jim and Anika spent hours improvising together, leading to a second round of recordings in Berlin, where Anika played Wurlitzer and electric guitar and Jim contributed affected electric guitars. Upon returning to New York, Jim shaped these recordings into the short, evocative instrumental pieces that became the film’s score. The very final touches were completed during a residency Jim and Anika spent together in Paris via the Pompidou Center.
The music for Father Mother Sister Brother is an experimental, collaborative soundscape, not meant to center around or define a single character. Instead, it’s atmospheric, like the air invisibly surrounding the characters.
