MUSIC

"The Crippled Flower was a post-punk band from Düsseldorf - and they arrived late. However, unlike many young, unsuspecting, hairsprayed hopefuls from that time, in 1985 they could sense that the end of their era was approaching. They knew too much to want to take the world by storm. They were four individualists searching their own way. Each of the band members only found their calling after the time that they had spent together – but that's exactly what makes The Crippled Flower still seem really interesting today, this static energy that does not discharge, but is simply there.

Searching dreamers should sound like that and that's what they were. Singer Phil Elston, for example, had brought his love of Kraftwerk from England to Düsseldorf. Even his bandmates found this strange, but they were also entangled in their own longings. This is because the times were still so crazy and these searchers were "on fire". A fire that glows in the band's recordings.

Listening to the songs today, The Crippled Flower sound like they are hugely at the height of their game; think of Wire, Felt, Scritti Politti or Minimal Compact. The variety of musical themes, as well as different soundscapes, which the band created can only be listened to in amazement. Often, it is only Phil Elston's Sprechgesang that confirms that this is really the same band. However, it was back in 1985 when, importantly, the catalyst that brought the musicians together - the short lived eclectic record store "Heartbeat" in Düsseldorf Bilk - occured. It was there where post-industrial and pop, melodic minimal music and sound attacks awaited those who wanted to discover music by artists and bands they did not yet know.

Cassette releases. All recorded on 4-Track. The Crippled Flower succeeded in this medium. Firstly, with a cassette just entited The Crippled Flower, working from project-like studio recorded sketches. Four more tracks from the short-lived band appeared in 1986 on "A Heartbeat Rendezvous“. A demo tape submitted to Les Disques du Crépuscule, however, did not lead to a worldwide career and so, unfortunately, it was soon over.

Stefan Krausen moved on to the follow-up project Deux Baleines Blanches with Stefan Schneider, which, in 1994, gave rise to the band Kreidler. Krausen was already drumming with the I-Burnettes on AtaTak and much later he studied painting in Munich. Nina Ahlers moved from Düsseldorf to Paris to study art, because in the 80s it was still the case that Paris was the destination of choice for those really wanting to become an artist – and that's what she did. Her work is characterized by a non-academic minimalism focusing on everyday objects. Stefan Schneider remained connected to music. Only Phil Elston, who helped sabotage fox hunts in England and wrote these observant lyrics about environmental destruction and time travel, seems to have escaped the social-media world. Whether he found Kraftwerk-fulfilment in Düsseldorf or moved on disillusioned remains a mystery to us. And somehow this also fits in with that peculiar, special band.

Julien Dechery follows his class entry for The Trilogy Tapes earlier this year with a haul of late 90’s and turn-of-the-century South Indian bangers for Good Morning Tapes, in transition from atmospheric, Timbland-influenced downbeats to disco, jungle, digidub and trip hop, adorned with copious amounts of bollywood vox.

Sick session of heavyweight soundsystem killers x dreampop dub doozies mixed up by Marcus Burrowes of Rockers NYC for Aussie downbeat stalwarts Good Morning Tapes, drawing lines and parallels from shoegaze outliers to vintage roots and digital fancies over an hour and 11 mins of the gloriously sunny but heavy stuff.

A product of NYC’s deeply rooted links with Jamaica, Marcus Burrowes runs clothing and lifestyle brand RockersNYC, whose aesthetics clearly reference classic soundsystem futures, and beyond. His entry to GMT’s immaculate catalogue is an authentically skooled and perfectly blended session of divine digs that join dots from Maximum Joy and A.R. Kane-type dub-gaze delights and roots reggae, to the sweetest lovers delicacies, Brenda Rey-esque reveries and digi-dubbed steppers pressure. 

Usually heard alongside Queen Majesty on their Lot Radio show of the same name, burrowes here toggles the gauge to keep bodies in motion with a judicious hand on the effects and controls, often deploying 45 killers at a chopped & screwed pace, on a rinse and repeat special request for summer 2025 and beyond.

Paris-born electronic music pioneer and 1970s GRM alumni Ariel Kalma joins with multinational New York trio Asa Tone (Kaazi, Melati ESP, Tristan Arp) for a series of intergenerational, electro-acoustic studio conversations, exploring elasticity within rhythm and winds… or as one early listener observed “space and time.”

Following a chance encounter at Ariel’s studio in the Australian rainforest during the pandemic, Melati & Kaazi began recording long live takes with Kalma, weaving in bioluminescent synth improvisations from Tristan Arp remotely. Revisited a few years later between the members of Asa Tone’s respective homes in New York & Indonesia, “○” is the document of a significant moment in the lives of all the album’s players; an ode to memory and connection in an era of crisis, illuminated via flickering fragments of steel flute, kantilan, modular synthesizer, xaphoon, tenor sax, EWI, field recordings of the surrounding rainforest, and the human voice.

Recorded, written and produced by Asa Tone & Ariel Kalma.
Ariel Kalma: Western Concert Flute, Xaphoon, Tenor Saxophone, Voice
Melati ESP: EWI, Kantilan, Voice
Kaazi: Hydrasynth, Opsix, Percussion
Tristan Arp: Modular Synthesizer, Moog Sub37, Percussion
Additional percussion on *3 by Miles Myjavec

Mixed by Tristan Arp, Kaazi and Ariel Kalma.
Mastered by Jose Arentes at GRAMA, Porto.
Art Direction & Layout : Melati ESP, Kaazi, Biscuit.
 

As one of the very few true 'Godfathers' of Ambient Music, Laraaji has forged a unique path forward (always, always forward) since his groundbreaking 1980 LP for Eno's Ambient label, "DAY OF RADIANCE'. It remains one of the eternal pillars of the genre. His extraordinary contributions to modern music over the course of four decades highlight his lifelong dedication to the belief that Peace can be achieved through audio serenity. Kramer's work in Ambient Music is less universally known, but no less pioneering. His most recent Shimmy-Disc LP, 'Music For Films Edited by Moths', suggests that his immersion in the genre is now complete. Cerebral yet simple, intoxicating yet tranquil, Kramer's newest and more elusive body of work gently heralds what lies ahead. His commitment to quiet music is complete. LARAAJI & KRAMER - "AMBIENT SYMPHONY #1" is the first window into their collective muse - a collaborative LP of shimmering clarity and vision, defying all expectations for the fans of each of these two diversely pioneering artists. Containing three 'Movements' (along with an additional 4th Movement on the digital release), this first Ambient Symphony is a beatific exercise in the sublime, unfolding dreams to waking life. Quiet music has never been so colorfully detailed, or so nakedly honest. Ambient Music has a new beginning.

Half asleep you hear a guitar echo through the early morning haze, you're so zonked you cant tell if its a dream or if the droney reverb is coming from real life, you sit up, now starting to understand what is afoot. Thats right, its the errant kings of slowcore Duster returning with yet another surprise release - In Dreams. Disintegrated, half remembered melodies permeate this record like a slow tide of static soaking into a discarded slice of sponge cake, proving somehow inventive and nostalgic at the same time, in other words Duster on top form.

Kutmah pays dues to departed astro-dub and beats pioneer Ras G in a mazy album primed for playing and smoking loud.

Lest we forget, Ras G (1979-2019) was like the cosmic offspring of Sun Ra x Madlib x King Tubby, and his run of works as Ras G & the Afrikan Space Program for the likes of Brainfeeder and others between the ‘00s and up till his passing were massive touchstones for the whole West Coast US beats scene and far beyond.

Kutmah tends to his departed peer’s legacy on ‘Sacred Conversations’ in a transdimensional dialogue across 26 tracks that ape G’s style and sense of moon boot gravity, replete with heavy use of the recognisable “oh Ras!” ident and samples of the artist in convo with DJ Sacred. In beat tape style they’re all rugged morsels that add up to an undulating session of squashed offbeats rendered with haziest, psychoactive dubbing and astro-soulful vibes to the rafters.

LIMITED JAPAN EXCLUSIVE "Asagao" EDITION. Flora is an album that is listened to perpetually,
Passed on from one listener to another,
And the charm of the sound- and music-loving figure 
known as Hiroshi Yoshimura,
Just might come drifting through.
Like the scent of a small flower.
—Junichi Konuma

Announcing the worldwide reissue of Flora, Hiroshi Yoshimura’s underrated work originally recorded and completed in 1987 and first released on CD in 2006, three years after his passing in 2003.

Flora is chronologically and stylistically a follow-up to Hiroshi Yoshimura’s acclaimed 1986 works Green and Surround, wherein Yoshimura continues to play with the ambience of sound and the sound of ambience, underscoring his mastery in the field of environmental music. Listening to Flora is like taking a stroll in a park, absorbing the colors and textures of the natural environment—flowers, insects, the swaying of the leaves—as Yoshimura often did at his beloved Edo-era park near his home in Tokyo. As Junichi Konuma describes in his liner notes, Yoshimura’s music “only begins to emerge as it exists at the intersection of passive and active.” Yoshimura's approach to sound and melody invites the listener to hear the intricacies of the music with intent, while simultaneously allowing the aural textures to exist as part of the background of our everyday life.

This reissue marks the first time the album will be available on vinyl (2LP, 45 rpm) and cassette, and includes liner notes written by music scholar Junichi Konuma and remastered audio by Grammy-nominated engineer John Baldwin. Reissue design and layout was handled by Tiffanie Tran. 

On Wednesday June 21, 2023 LA-via-Rio composer Fabiano do Nascimento had organized - with Leaving Records and an ensemble of contemporaries in the local scene - a one-night-only seated concert at a historic venue in Northeast Los Angeles. Do Nascimento and his band set out to perform a curated selection of original music and other favorites from cherished composers.

Behold Solstice Concert - the raw recording of what went down that evening - straight from the board, solstice vibes glistening, full band synchronized, audience stoked. Although unintended to be a full-length album release subsequent to the performance, the tape was indeed rolling however unknown to the band on stage and those in attendance.

Don't miss it! Known for his collaborations with big names such as Ry Cooder, Vampire Weekend and Moses Sumney, and as the leader of the jazz trio Inga, he has been active in a variety of fields, from psychedelic to outsider to meditative. This is a follow up to his last album, which was self-pressed in 2018 and has been reprinted many times since then and is a huge best seller in our store. The collaboration with Sam Wilkes is now available on cassette from Leaving Records, and is a continuation of the previous album recorded between 2017 and 2018. The album is a confident work that combines a sophisticated jazz mind with a unique, experimental sound that is full of the free spirit of the West Coast, and sublimates it into a unique, even meditative, sound. The muffled sound image with a perfect balance makes the listener feel even better. Limited edition of 350 pieces. Whether you were baptized by the previous album, missed it, or haven't experienced it yet, this is a must-have album for this year.

Welsh musician Aisha Vaughan presents The Gate. It is upon us to renew the deep-cut, heavy-weighted melancholy of Celtic New Age for 2024. New Age music from the Celtic/British Isles crossed over into the mainstream in the late 80s - notably with Enya (and her band Clannad), the perhaps now lesser-known instrumental Celtic harp music of Patrick Ball, and the slew of now mostly forgotten various artist compilations that saturated the New Age CD and cassette music market in the early 90s.

The Gate earnestly gives reverence to the landscape that she calls home (as cinematically portrayed consistently in Vaughan’s self-shot videos via her social media). Now living in converted barn in mid-Wales, Vaughan writes and records her music to red kites and eagles hunting in the mountains outside her windows. The notably welcomed layers of ASMR sound design and computer music production supplement the main instrument here - her voice - woven within campfire crackle, wind chime, cricket, bird, harp, flute, synthesizer pad & sfx, and new moon wolf howl to channel celestial guides conjured from her remote homeland.

Using composition as catharsis stemming from a traumatic upbringing where music was banned in her childhood household, and the inherent occult history that surrounds the art form, Vaughan does not shy away from precisely stewarding this particular - often still-overlooked - musical tradition through her generation’s ambient lens.
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Gendel on C-Melody Saxofone and Wilkes on Fender P-Bass arrangements of selected material and original compositions a document of specific variations in instrumentation, sound, and repertoire, with a focus on melody, execution of arrangement, and total freedom The Doober follows the release of Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar (2018) and Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar More Songs (2021).

Bon Iver’s three-song collection SABLE, was an act of vulnerability and unburdening. Written and recorded at a breaking point, they were songs of reflection, fear, depression, solitude, and atonement. The word “sable” implies darkness, and in that triptych, Justin Vernon sought to unpack some long-compounded pain. Then, at the tail end of its final track “AWARDS SEASON,” there’s the barest thread of a lighter melody—a drone, a glimmer, an ember, hope for something more. SABLE, was the prologue, a controlled burn clearing the way for new possibilities. fABLE is the book. Stories of introduction and celebration. The fresh growth that blankets the charred ground. Where SABLE, was a work of solitude, fABLE is an outstretched hand.

Compared to the sparse minimalism of its three-song table setter, fABLE is all lush vibrance. Radiant, ornate pop music gleams around Vernon’s voice as he focuses on a new and beautiful era. On every song, his eyes are locked with one specific person. It’s love, which means there’s an intense clarity, focus, and honesty within fABLE. It’s a portrait of a man flooded and overwhelmed by that first meeting (“Everything Is Peaceful Love”). There’s a tableau defined by sex and irrepressible desire (“Walk Home”). This is someone filled with light and purpose seeing an entire future right in front of him: a partner, new memories, maybe a family.

While not as minimal as its companion EP, fABLE’s sound appears to walk back the dense layers of sound Vernon hid behind on records like i,i and 22, a million. There’s nothing evasive or boundary-busting about this music. It’s a canvas for truth laid bare. Much of the album was recorded at Vernon’s April Base in Wisconsin after years of the studio laying dormant during a renovation. The album’s conceptual genesis happened on 2.22.22 when Jim-E Stack, Vernon’s close collaborator and guide throughout the creative process, arrived at the base with Danielle Haim. Snowed in for multiple days, their voices intertwined for the ballad “If Only I Could Wait.” Suddenly, Haim gave voice to this crucial perspective—the one Vernon seems to hold in sacred regard across fABLE. Accompanied by Rob Moose’s strings, it’s a track about weariness—about not having the strength to be the best version of yourself outside the glow of new love.

There’s something undeniably healing about infatuation. Cleaving to someone else can feel like light pouring in from a door that’s suddenly swung wide. But there’s a reason SABLE, is of a piece with fABLE; even after you put in the work, the shadow still rears its head from time to time. On “There’s A Rhythmn,” Vernon finds himself back in an old feeling, this time seeking an alternative instead of erasure: “Can I feel another way?” There’s an understanding that even when you’ve reached a new chapter, you’ll always find yourself back in your own foundational muck. A fable isn’t a fairy tale. Yes, there’s the good shit: unbridled joy, trips to Spain, the color salmon as far as the eye can see. But fables aren’t interested in happy endings or even endings at all; they’re here to instill a lesson.

As the album winds to a close, he acknowledges the need for patience and a commitment to put in the work. There’s a selfless rhythm required when you’re enmeshing yourself with another person. The song—and by extension the entire album—is a pledge. He’s ready to find that pace. 

Underground rock festered and splintered as it spread through the U.S. in the mid-’90s, the alternative boom giving rise to microcosmic regional scenes singularly focused on feral powerviolence or screamo songs about breakfast. Boston’s Karate emerged as a force that could grip a national youth movement whose disparate tastes still commingled in the inky pages of fanzines overflowing with florid prose and on concert calendars for volunteer-run DIY spaces, community centers, and bowling alleys. In this world, Karate’s music was an enigma, one equally inviting to sneering punks and highfalutin indie-rock aficionados. Their 1996 self-titled debut, issued on Southern Records, set the standard. Lasooing together white-knuckle posthardcore tension, sharply focused slowcore serenity, and resplendent jazz complexity, Karate eschewed settling in any one definiable style. But they certainly used the language of punk to get their point across; occasionally, guitarist Geoff Farina abandons his warm, hushed cadences for a hoarse shout that made him sound ragged, intensifying an aggression that burst out with every snaggletoothed guitar riff or drum snap that went off like canonfire. Few followed their path—but who could keep up? Karate could make pensive moods blossom into feverish rollicking (“What Is Sleep?”), gracefully tip-toe around aggressive punk explosions without getting bent out of shape (“Bodies”), and stretch out slowcore’s quietest reveries till their reflective notes sound ripped from an improvisational jazz session (“Caffeine or Me?”). Karate formally introduced the trio as a vital part of an independent U.S. punk scene stubbornly flowering in the face of the major labels’ ’90s harvest.

The cassette tape version of the 2nd Album by the musical collective Yaryu, known for keeping fixed members to a minimum and swapping participants for each sound production and live performance, continuing to perform freely and improvisationally, is released by Zouenkeikaku.

Featuring guest appearances from numerous bands, including Japan's leading guitarist Takuro Okada, vocalist J.C from んoon, flutist Wakana Ikeda who also participated in the new release of Triple Fire, and psychedelic legend Hajime Kawabata of Acid Mothers Temple, as well as Dhidalah, Sundays & Cybele, PSP Social, and Kumagusu. Despite these collaborations, the album embodies the improvisational nature of spiritual jazz, the fervor of psychedelic rock, and the spirituality of traditional Japanese music, all wrapped in the transparent textures of ambient music. "For Damage" is ambient, jazz, rock, and new age, while simultaneously stepping into a realm that is none of these.

This work was released as an LP and CD in a joint effort by Centripetal Force in the US, Cardinal Fuzz in the UK, and Ramble Records in Australia, but had almost no distribution in Japan. This cassette tape version marks the first physical release to be distributed domestically.Additionally, the cassette tape version includes a download code for the unreleased track collection "Animals in the Forest of Symbols." 

Becoming a fish, we move up the river from its lukewarm, lazy mouth. Eventually, the current grows cold and the mountains steep, and before long, your consciousness skips over the headwaters to the sky where the stars shine brightly. Connecting the second album “For Damage,” released in four countries around the world, and the first album “Bongaku” is “Estuary,” the 1.5 album by the improvised music group Yaryu. This is a spiritual sound work woven from improvisations performed by Takuro Okada, Wakana Ikeda (The Ratel), and many other musicians.

Silky and serene chamber music-like acoustics spun by flute and alto saxophone, the sad exoticism of pure Japanese music brought about by the sound of the Koto, Hawaiian New Age reminiscent of a deserted beach, and passing through numerous sound fields along the riverbank, the torrent of psychedelics and spirituality continues onward.

The cassette version will include a DL code for this title. 

New age for the suburban city, spun from a poor planting in the suburbs or from an apartment room along the national highway. "Suiyu" is the first album by Hajime Orikawa, a musician living in Chiba.

From side A, which is composed of home recordings and environmental sounds in a room at home, and contains a lo-fi yet theological resonance, to the title track "Suiyu" which exceeds 15 minutes and where various instruments such as autoharp, electronic piano, Moog synthesizer, organ, and tenor saxophone beautifully blend with a free-spirited singing voice like a wild rabbit running through the fields, the melancholy of the suburban city floats gently.

The cassette version includes a DL code for “Ikkojiteki,” a collection of outtracks, along with a DL code for "Suiyu". 

An autoharp tone evoking Laraaji and an elegance akin to Hozan Yamamoto. The album "Bongaku" by Yaryu embodies a fusion of psychedelic spirituality and the physicality of Asian culture. It features an ever-shifting ensemble of musicians, akin to a river's perpetual cycle.

Driving is Sam Wilkes’ Indie Rock record. Out October 6th, 2023, it is the first release on Wilkes Records, an imprint borne of the artist’s emergent need to self-release. The songs presented here exist comfortably within the ever-expanding Wilkesian cosmos, characterized as they are by virtuosity, torqued experimentalism, and collaboration with a range of talented musicians. But Driving’s influences, its sincerity, and its allegiance to a certain pop sensibility reflects a departure for an artist who has primarily staked his claim within the experimental jazz idiom. Take the first track, “Folk Home,” which inaugurates the album’s fecundity—a bright, green, humid, summer feel. A swirling, freakout coda of reversed vocals gives way, in no short order, to a caterwaul of flute work that conjures Van Morrison’s (in)famous Astral Weeks sessions. Standing beside Morrison, the usual suspects are all present, if somewhat abstractedly. Dylan, The Dead, Joni, the Fab Four. Wilkes has developed a reputation as an experimental jazz luminary, but his deep affinity for the pop/rock/folk idiom of the latter twentieth century rings clear throughout Driving. More so than any Wilkes release to date, Driving is a collection guided by and dedicated to the man’s attention to songcraft. Written and recorded during a period of rain-damage induced renter’s itinerance (and the attendant desire to produce a kind of therapeutic, self-soothing, home-feeling music), Driving loosely charts the trajectory/experience of “a protagonist,” both Wilkes and not, “who has figured out how to live an enlightened and fulfilled life, but is unable to do so because he thinks about it too much.” This friction is surely relatable — a symptom of our compulsively self-aware present. But Wilkes avoids the obvious pitfalls of public hand-wringing. Rather, Driving’s nine tracks evince a genuine, and mature searching-ness, both sonically and lyrically. The ending refrain of “Own” serves like something close to a thesis— “Letting go // isn’t a concept // it’s an action.” In an attempt to beat back ego, hyper-cogitation, language itself, Wilkes arrives at an axiom that feels so true and familiar, you’d swear you’d heard it one hundred times before. Driving’s final third is, fittingly, its most emotive and cathartic. Tracks seven and eight, “Again, Again” and “And Again,” form a diptych, joined most obviously by the jangling, recursive grooves of guitarist Daryl Johns. Wilkes is said to have encouraged Johns to go “full Lindsey [Buckingham]” (clearly a welcome and resonant prompt), but one also catches stray Knopfler vibes, some intermittent Fripp, and (perhaps more-so in tone than technique) the spirit of DIY prophet and jangling man himself, Martin Newell (the Cleaners from Venus). Wilkes has stated that he finds joy in creating musical environments suitable to the contribution and flourishing of his favorite musicians. Throughout Driving, and in these two tracks especially, he has more than succeeded. The record closes with the titular track: a story-song that, according to Wilkes, poured out of him (melody, composition, and lyrics) in a single sitting. The tale is told plainly, bravely, starkly; a mistake was made, regrets have been had, and all is wrapped up in the recollection of a deeply felt adolescent heartsickness—a time when the narrator was first afire with music and automotive freedom. The song captures the moment when meaning inexplicably falls into place, when a long-nagging memory suddenly assumes narrative form, and the subsequent sense of lightness and unburdening. It is fitting that Driving, a record conceived as a form of self-therapy, should culminate with a sense of humble revelation. That Wilkes is plainly eager to share the vulnerable fruits of this labor constitutes Driving’s joyful offering.

When Festival de Frue’s organizers asked Sam Wilkes to put together an ensemble for their 2022 festival, they initially asked for the band he created for his 2021 album “One Theme & Subsequent Improvisation.” With keyboardist Chris Fishman (Pat Metheny, Louis Cole) the only member of that group who was available, Wilkes asked that the organizers select one of two groups as an alternative: a Trio featuring drummer Craig Weinrib (Henry Threadgill, Amen Dunes) and guitarist Dylan Day (Jenny Lewis, Jackson Browne)—with whom Wilkes recently released a trio album—or a Quartet featuring Weinrib, Fishman, and keyboardist and guitarist Thom Gill (KNOWER, Joseph Shabason). “I couldn’t make the decision on which band I should bring, I felt very confused about it,” he says. Through a strange series of miscommunications—or simply a bit of serendipity—both Wilkes and the Frue organizers thought the other had suggested combining the ensembles into a Quintet including members of both groups. An idea that neither side voiced somehow became the obvious choice. The combined Quintet represents what Wilkes calls “two disparate worlds in my community,” that of the “virtuosic, fast-paced grid” of music played with Fishman and Gill, “and this other thing with Dylan that’s coming from different elements of traditional American music.” Luckily, Weinrib fits seamlessly into both worlds. While all members of the group played on Wilkes’ 2023 album Driving, they’d never all played together. They had one five-hour rehearsal in Tokyo, but, Wilkes says, “It was impossible for me to predict how this music was going to sound.” His strategy, after showing them the arrangements of several of his own compositions and a few covers, was to “allow everyone to blossom fully” with the hope that “what I’ll get is everyone’s personality being expressed unfettered.” iiyo iiyo iiyo is Sam Wilkes’ fifth album as bandleader and arranger, and the atmosphere is so rich it spills out of the speakers. The album, a document of the Quintet’s meeting, was recorded live at Festival de Frue in Kakegawa and at WWWX in Tokyo, where they played headlining sets for hundreds of people. Not that you’d know it from the intimate interplay between the players or the small-room feel of the recording. In opener “Descending,” which made its debut on Wilkes’ 2018 self-titled album, the mood is so cozy you’d swear the sound of kids at play in the back of the hall had been sampled in—another perfect bit of serendipity. For Wilkes, setting the right tone for a performance or a recording is paramount, and it’s inseparable from how he understands his role as a bassist. “My entryway into understanding my thing, what I care about the most in music, was through accompaniment; focusing on time, feel, tone, form, and most importantly, listening.” he says. “There are things that are ineffable about that, which is the energy. But there are also conscious and subconscious decisions, where I’m arranging and orchestrating to create the ultimate environment for, say, Dylan to play his melody over, or Thom to play his. Those are choices as much as reactions, combining in equal parts in-depth preparation and total improvisation” The title iiyo iiyo iiyo is a Japanese expression used in response to an outpouring of gratitude, a cheeky way of brushing the accolades off of oneself. Accordingly, the record is full of charming, homespun personality. In a gorgeous version of the standard “I Wanna Be Loved,” Day plays the melody in a way that moves between washed-out ambient gauze and a traditionally beautiful run of lines that echoes the Dinah Washington original. While the band circulates the mantric melody in “Descending,” Fishman dots around it on his Moog One, opening a new seam in a song that’s quickly become a Wilkes standard. Weinrib’s patient, impressionistic brush strokes seem to swirl beneath the melody, while Gill fogs the room with thick, reverb-heavy accompaniment from his keys. And where is Wilkes in all this? He’s guiding his friends, helping them decorate a room that he himself built, drawing them deeper into the song’s wistful, hopeful, grounded atmosphere. His polyphonic voicings—a signature of his playing—sets out the song’s boundaries and acts as both its musical and emotional anchor. It’s the approach Wilkes takes across the album, using his phrasing as both the music’s gravitational center and its heart, and he does it to perfection in the opening minute or so of “Girl.” The song originally appeared on Sam Wilkes “Sings” (2014–2016)” in what he calls a “psychotically different arrangement.” On stage in Kakegawa, he slows the song to a crawl and isolates its central chords. He plays them gently, patiently; he voices the chords with the clarity of a person who’s just cried out all of their confusion. As Wilkes says, his role as a bassist means that he’s the foundation of these songs, and foundations by their very nature tend to be obscured. Here, for one lovely moment, he strips everything back to the studs, revealing the lush architecture that holds this miraculous music together.

Wheat and Rust was American composer and electronic musician Tim Story’s fourth and final album for the tiny but influential Norwegian label Uniton/Cicada. It was released in 1987, just on the cusp of the greater renown he would enjoy the following year with his Glass Green record, and a Grammy nomination soon after. Rust Smudges, the artist’s latest work, is an unlikely deconstruction of Story’s own Wheat and Rust, a haunting acknowledgement of time passed and the artistic evolution that has propelled Story, 30 years on, through an unpredictably varied and idiosyncratic career. Rust Smudges is both a distillation of the artist’s recent audio installations that re-contextualize existing material into new forms and experiences, and his unabashed fondness for an audio process that he deprecatingly dubs ‘smudging’. Originally developed simply for his own enjoyment and inspiration, these tone poems are built essentially by submitting harmonically-rich, looped phrases of other people’s music to a process that freezes and ‘smudges’ them. The aural equivalent of watching a movie by viewing only one frozen frame every 5 seconds, with everything in between lost, the hazy apparitions that result cycle through hypnotic, constantly-evolving landscapes both enigmatically abstract and warmly familiar. For Rust Smudges, Story manipulated all 12 pieces of his ’87 release, creating two completely new ambient tracks. It marks the first time the composer has submitted his own recorded music to these unconventional processes, and his pairing of early work with an inherently fragile playback medium crystallizes – and subverts – the distances between youthful exuberance and the inevitable, humbling passage of time. Wheat and Rust’s original tracks proved ideal for the proceedings, Story’s trademark harmonic language was blooming by the late 80’s, creating in the smudges a warmly epic contrast to the icy blurs the digital synths impart. The stately, ambiguous progressions that result are profoundly ruminative - reducing active melodies and intricate arrangements into a deep largo of harmony and timbre the way memory softens sharp narratives into transitory pulses of feeling and recollection. In the process of reworking music from his past, Story manages to put his own melancholy ‘meta’ fingerprint on a cassette culture that was in its first generation when he and his fellow explorers first exploited it in the 70’s, out of necessity rather than choice. Available on digital and in a limited edition of 300 cassettes through Dais records, with an artist edition of handmade box sets (with Rust Smudged dubbed onto the original Wheat and Rust cassettes) available directly from Tim Story.

 

"When it travels, the voice is a double agent, a trickster, or a dubious guru, but when it pauses for a recording, it's historical, capturing a mood or an emotion for all time. I didn't expect that I would hardly recognize the people who made Salt — myself and Hessel Veldman — a year and a half after recording it, but this is where I find myself now, so I'll say a few words about this temporary prosopagnosia.

Twelve years ago, when I moved to the Netherlands from Japan, I made a piece called How to Lose Your Voice. It was a YouTube hit because people wanted to learn how to actually lose their voices, though I doubt they found what they were looking for in the video. But I mention it because it's like a diary for me: my voice simply isn't the same now as it was then.

I wonder where my voice has gone.

I just listened to a radio interview with a woman who had her larynx removed.

About fifteen minutes after listening to her new voice, altered by the use of a voice prosthesis to make her audible, the interviewer played a recording of her pre-surgery voice. Of course, I was curious to hear it, and although it was immediately obvious that the gentle ease of her first voice was gone, this new voice, with its raw, gravelly sound, was even more intriguing because of its determined power to express that which needed to be expressed.

When Hessel and I first listened to the Salt in its entirety, I said in astonishment, "who wrote this?"
Marianna Maruyama, sure, but this artist goes by more than one name. Many voices spoke through me in this album. You might even recognize one of them as yours."  

Rare Pleasure is Mndsgn's third album to be released on Stones Throw Records. Following 2016's Body Wash, this album truly shows the artist's evolution from his roots as a heralded beatmaker to vocalist, songwriter and arranger. Though he began writing for the album in 2018, the final recordings took just a week in studio with the help of trusted collaborators: Swarvy on bass, guitar and as Musical Director for the sessions, Stones Throw label mate Kiefer Shackelford on keys, drum work by Will Logan, the blessed percussion of Carlos Niño, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson on strings, and accompanying vocals from Fousheé and Anna Wise.

No shortage of colorful characters emerged from Cameroon's bikutsi scene in the 1980's and early 90's. Gibraltar Drakus is one of the most enduring and enigmatic of the artists who helped transform bikutsi into a beautifully endless fabric of triplet rhythms that eventually reached ears around the world. Following the advent of Cameroon Radio Television in 1987, bikutsi began to supplant makossa and soukous for domination of the local airwaves and the attention of cosmopolitan, thrill-seeking residents of Cameroon's capital Yaoundé and beyond. Biktusi perfectly fused Beti traditional music and increasingly electronic, highly rhythmic guitar-based bikutsi. Mimicking the sound of village-based xylophone music by rigging a mute to electric guitar strings, bikutsi artists provided a relentlessly energetic dance format for those with a taste for music steeped in their hometown sensibility (countering the popular makossa that many felt sounded less indigenous).By the early 1990's, Les Tetes Brûlées were indisputably the most famous and influential artists in bikutsi, due in part to the innovations of their incendiary guitarist Théodore Zanzibar Epeme. Following their first European tour in 1987, the band blew up internationally but Zanzibar tragically, and mysteriously, passed away, which nearly brought an end to the band completely. In hindsight, the consensus among most Cameroonians is Zanzibar's contributions to biktusi were transformational and immeasurable. Swept up in all this was Gibraltar Drakus, who was the youngest member of Les Têtes Brûlées and was also the protégé of his biggest supporter, Zanzibar. So it was fitting that he dedicate his 1989 debut to their groundbreaking late guitarist who had meant so much to him. Drakus literally exploded from his first album Hommage A Zanzibar (1989), which sold over 100,000 copies despite rampant piracy. For the recording, Drakus made sure he engaged prolific producer Mystic Jim to record and mix the album. The innovation musically rests both within the guitar interplay and the discipline in the orchestration, which result in a mind-bending clockwork of cross-rhythmic harmony. He aimed for the sound to exist somewhere between the sensibilities of the famous Les Veterans, Zanzibar and Messi Martin. He had worked a lot of Zanzibar and Messi Martin, both of whom allowed him to fully immerse himself in bikutsi and Beti music. "Zanzibar is the one who taught me how to compose a song, and I learned a lot from Zanzibar musically. We spent whole nights working on methods and other approaches to compose beautiful songs. I owe half of everything I have today to Zanzibar!"