MUSIC

"Bridging the gap between American primitive pioneers John Fahey, Robbie Basho, and Leo Kottke, and the California modernists William Ackerman, Alex de Grassi, and Michael Hedges, Guitar Soli explores the private side of the solo guitar movement from 1966-1981. While Takoma and Windham Hill were laying the groundwork for the new age marketing juggernaut of the mid '80s, these fourteen loners were picking away in tiny cafes, selling records hand to hand. The single disc set comes housed in a digipack chipboard slipcase with a 40-page booklet and features Ted Lucas, Daniel Hecht, Dan Lambert, Jim Ohlschmidt, Tom Smith, Mark Lang, Richard Crandell, Tree People, William Eaton, George Cromarty, Scott Witte, Brad Chequer, Dwayne Canan, and Dana Westover." 

Bulayo gathers extraordinary acoustic guitar performances recorded across Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia and DR Congo in 1979–80 by British-Kenyan musician John Low. Travelling as a student rather than a producer, Low sought out masters of regional fingerstyle traditions, visiting and sometimes staying with artists including Jean-Bosco Mwenda, Losta Abelo and Emmanuel Mulemena, while also documenting under-recorded players such as Francis Kitime and Mtonga Wanganangu. Captured in homes, village squares and bars, these recordings are relaxed and immediate, with laughter, conversation and everyday sounds woven into the music. Far removed from studio polish, they offer a rare sense of how this guitar music was actually heard and shared. Some tracks previously surfaced on John Storm Roberts’ long out-of-print Original Music compilations; others appear here for the first time. All have been restored and remastered from Low’s original tapes by Andrew Walter (Honest Jon’s, Abbey Road). With notes and lyrics by John Low and commentary from Tanzanian scholar John Kitime, Bulayo stands as a vital document of East and Central Africa’s rich guitar traditions.

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

Mei Semones’ sweetly evocative blend of jazz, bossa nova and math-y indie rock is not only a way for her to find solace in her favorite genres, but is an intuitive means of catharsis. “Blending everything that I like together and trying to make something new – that's what feels most natural to me,” says the 23-year-old Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and guitarist. “It’s what feels most true to who I am as an artist.” ‘Tsukino’, Mei’s debut, self-released EP, is being released physically for the first time ever on Bayonet Records! The EP will be released by itself on CD & Tape formats, and will be included in a vinyl pressing on the B-side of Semones’ landmark EP, ‘Kebutomushi’! Plinking guitar tones and asymmetrical time signatures exemplify Semones’ forays into angular indie rock more now than ever before. Originally from Ann Arbor, Michigan, Semones began playing music at a young age, starting out on piano at age four before moving to electric guitar at age eleven. After playing jazz guitar in high school, she went on to study guitar performance with a jazz focus at Berklee College of Music. College is where she met her current bandmates, including string players Noah Leong and Claudius Agrippa, whose respective viola and violin add softness and multidimensionality to Mei’s intricate guitar work. After releasing a slew of singles and an EP in 2022, coinciding with her move to New York City, Mei and her band have since gone on to collaborate with post-bossa balladeer John Roseboro and embark on their first-ever tour with the melodic rock outfit Raavi. Semones chronicles infatuation, devotion, and vulnerability in her songs, complete with sweeping strings, virtuosic guitar-playing and heartfelt lyrics sung in both English and Japanese, that have all become part of her sonic trademark: ornately catchy, genre-fusing compositions serving as the backdrop to tender lyrics touching on the universalities of human emotion.

‘vernacular’ is the debut studio album by improvisation-based artist, and founder of life is beautiful, aloisius. built entirely from layers of improvised instrumentation recorded via laptop microphone, using various instruments such as: guitar, piano, cello, trumpet, saxophone, drums & voice. vernacular is inspired by the spirit of collective improvisation, and embodies aloisius' instinctual & organic approach to musical composition. crafted solely by aloisius (except for track 6, which features a layer of piano by life is beautiful member, friend & collaborator Bianca Scout). "Crisp, chaotic and unashamedly euphoric, it's fully human, packed with irresistible flaws and delusions that can't help but keep us completely gripped." (Boomkat) physical editions will feature a secret unlisted bonus track. to celebrate the release of the album, a semi-improvised interpretation of the project will be performed live by ‘orchestra379’ (a collective improvisation project curated by aloisius, consisting of a fluctuating lineup that differs on each occasion of performance). this iteration of orchestra379 shall feature: Isaiah Hull (vocals), abi asisa (cello), Jasper Maurice (guitar), Bianca Scout (organ), Damsel Elysium (violin), BJ Holy (trumpet & flugelhorn) & aloisius (drums & saxophone). preluding the orchestra379 performance will be a special, intimate performance by May Kershaw (of the band Black Country, New Road), performing using voice & church organ.

Haruomi Hosono's Tropical Dandy receives its first-ever international reissue. Originally released in 1975, Tropical Dandy is a cult classic that marked Hosono’s shift toward genre-blending, fusing exotica, jazz, and pop to lay the groundwork for Japanese City Pop – described by none other than Van Dyke Parks as "cinematic romance with sonic texture."

Classic black and limited edition Ocean Blue. 180-gram vinyl, pressed in the US featuring exclusive OBI and a new translation of Haruomi Hosono's 1975 liner notes.

More top tier biz from a resurgent Scenic Route label, this time in a more bare-boned and classic sounding singer-songwriter mode courtesy of Oakland-raised and Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Ivy Knight, produced by Deer park (fakemink, Ecco2k, evilgiane) and tipped if you’re anywhere on the line from Joanne Robertson to Sam Amidon, Dagmar Zuniga to Mark William Lewis. "Ivy Knight’s songs reflect a city dreamer creating a new world to sink into: across Iron Mountain, she conjures imagery of barren Southwest American landscapes as she recounts memories that feel beamed from generations past, channeling folk melodies and old trail ballads of the late 50s and early 60s. Much of her work has been created both within, and in reference to the Hudson Valley, where she met frequent collaborator Deer park (fakemink, Ecco2k, evilgiane) who produced and engineered."

Caught between the Canyon and the Caribbean, Cathy Hamer's pair of extremely private LP's got lost in the Me Decade's hippy hangover. Tracked in '79 and '80 at Roanoke, Virginia's custom bluegrass powerhouse Threshold Recordings, these 11 originals breeze through all colors—folk, country, yacht, etc—of the cosmic American rainbow. Remastered LP comes housed in a tip-on

Caught between the Canyon and the Caribbean, Cathy Hamer's pair of extremely private LP's got lost in the Me Decade's hippy hangover. Tracked in '79 and '80 at Roanoke, Virginia's custom bluegrass powerhouse Threshold Recordings, these 11 originals breeze through all colors—folk, country, yacht, etc—of the cosmic American rainbow. Remastered LP comes housed in a tip-on

Okraina Records present an LP by Mauricio Amarante and Marine Debilly Cerisier as Amarante-Cerisier. "What if, alongside the mainstream history of music, with careers and discographies spanning ten or fifty years from album to album, there was an underground, minority history, that of artists and projects with only one record? A flash, a burst of brilliance, a gem, but no follow-up, no repetitions, no decline. This will most likely be the case for this album by Amarante-Cerisier, a duo formed by Mauricio Amarante (Radikal Satan, Équipage, travelling companion of Canan Domurcakli and Austin Townsend) and Marine Debilly Cerisier (dancer, performer, writer, co-founder of alternative cultural venues in Marseille and Brussels), with these eight poetic songs in French having more in common with the visionary essence of certain songs from the early 1970s (Brigitte Fontaine-Areski, for example) than with the post-modernism of the ‘nouvelle chanson française’ of the 1990s and 2000s."

»Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« is an introduction to the folk-pop world of Eddie Marcon. It follows in the footsteps of other collections of Japanese artists on Morr Music, such as yumbo, Andersens, and the »Minna Miteru« compilations, »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« draws together songs from Eddie Marcon’s twenty-two-year history, including fragile, yet rich in melody material, collected from a prodigious run of limited edition, self-released CD-Rs.

Eddie Marcon is the project of Eddie Corman and Jules Marcon, who met through their involvement in Japan’s underground music scene. Eddie was a member of noise-rock duo Coa, while both Eddie and Marcon were part of psych-rock collective LSD-March. Forming in 2001, Eddie Marcon’s sound is markedly different from these groups, though they do, at times, share a sense of psychedelic dislocation, through the gentle, limpid pace of their songs. But with Eddie Marcon, melody and gentleness is at the music’s core.

They’ve long marked out their own, unique territory within a worldwide community of psych-folk and folk-pop artists; sharing their music through a subterranean network of colleagues and friends, they count groups like The Pastels and The Notwist as their fans, and Eddie has collaborated with the likes of Shintaro Sakamoto, and Aki Tsuyuko (in Tondekebana, and with Marcon and Ippei Matsui in the quartet Wasurerogusa). Eddie Marcon have also recently worked with drummer Ikuro Takahashi, who’s played with groups such as Fushitsusha, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te.

Across the songs on »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, Eddie Marcon’s songs are performed by Eddie on guitar, organ and vocals, and Marcon on bass; they’re variously joined by Takahashi, Yojiro Tatekawa (drums), Tomoko Kageyama (vibraphone), Yasuhisa Mizutani (flute), Madoka Asakura (vocals), and Ztom Motoyama (pedal steel). The arrangements are pared back to best serve the core of each song, and the playing is gorgeous – fluent but not showy; capable of great intricacy, but aware that simplicity is key to direct communication.

Songs like »Mayonaka No Ongaku« stretch their limbs languidly, the music shivering with beauty as guitar and cymbal drift across Eddie’s poised vocal delivery. »Tora To Lion« began as an improvisation, but it’s become a firm favourite of the group’s fans: as Eddie says, »it has become a very important song for us, to the extent that it can be said to be our representative song.«

Perhaps the most moving thing about »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, though, is the way it captures the subtle yet significant moments of everydayness that ask for our attention. »Shoujo«, a song for a beloved cat who passed away, possesses rare emotional resonance. »At the end of the song,« Eddie remembers, »I wanted to have her throat rumbling endlessly.« When the song was cut, a television voice appeared behind the purring, saying ›thank you‹. »For us, it felt like words from Poco-chan, and tears came to our eyes.« 

Recorded in the early 70's in her home on a reel to reel recording device, the songs on "Colour Green" are intimate portraits of life's sad and fragile beauty.

Nick Drake’s final masterpiece, Pink Moon, released in 1972. It is an album of eternal resonance—a solitary soul’s delicate balance between a quiet prayer and a silent resignation.

Released in 1969, Five Leaves Left is Nick Drake’s debut album. Produced by Joe Boyd and recorded at Sound Techniques in London, the record features leading figures of the British folk scene, including Richard Thompson and Danny Thompson. Widely regarded as a landmark of British folk, the album showcases Drake’s delicate vocals, intricate guitar work, and beautifully arranged strings.

A collection of intimate songs traced from the spectral darkness by Asahito Nanjo, the notorious leader of some of Japan’s key underground psychedelic units (High Rise, Mainliner, Musica Transonic, Toho Sara, etc) Recorded between 1980 and 1988 and previously only available in a cassette micro-edition released by his La Musica Records label in the mid-1990’s. Remastered and available for the first time on vinyl and digital. “A compilation of secret projects recorded over a period of twenty years. Deeply personal music that achieves a strange balance between beat folk balladry and off-key mumbling. Suggestive self-celebratory music conceived as a confirmation of existence.” – original La Musica cassette notes A lesser-known side of Nanjo Asahito – if all you know of his work is the overloaded, intensified psych-rock and free-sound of his group projects then the solo songs on M gently redraw the contours of Nanjo’s private universe. There’s something gem-like in the way these five songs are formed, even as they accrue grit and dirt while drifting out of the speakers. Here, Nanjo grabs handfuls of gentle chord changes, allows them to rotate in the air, suspended in reverb, flickering in half-light, as he murmurs drowsy melodies. The closing “Eucharist” pushes everything through a thin layer of distortion; elsewhere, tinkling piano, from guest Matsuoka Takashi, who also performed with Keiji Haino’s Nijiumu, disturbs dust molecules to dance through hazy air.

Twelve years in the making, a new record by Portland's idiosyncratic master of ultra modern folk music Dragging An Ox Through Water. Old school electronic oscillations and blips meet solid guitar playing and singing. The lyrics alone are worth the price of admission. Nothing obvious is ever said and every word gleans with layers of meaning. Dragging An Ox Through Water is Brian Mumfords' cult long running art music project. Beloved in Portland. Willfully underground. The real stuff. A modern masterpiece.

We are excited to present to the world the debut solo album by Lily Mullen. A songwriter / poet in her early 20s, residing in Northwest Oregon. Lily was born with Down Syndrome and is a fierce advocate for disability justice and other underrepresented voices. This album has a playful and magical quality - like found in the self-contained worlds of the Raincoats or the Slits. There are both rockers and ballads - with echoes of the Velvet Underground and Modern Lovers. Folky and poetic songs à la Patti Smith, Nico or Neil Young. Songs that vocally AND musically evoke Mark E Smith and The Fall. Of course, those are all just reference points! Lily’s voice is unique and original and forging new and beautiful artistic territory. Clever wordplay, cosmic themes, surrealist poetry, heart on sleeve laments, tearjerkers - this album has it all. Recorded at Sonic Lodge in Eugene, Oregon by Justin Higgins. Musical contributions from Chris Gunn (Lavender Flu), Miranda Soileau-Pratt (Spatulas), Scott Simmons (Lavender Flu), Kate Williams and Justin Higgins. Be wild. Be free. Experience Lily!

Fire of God’s Love is the legendary 1973 album by Australian nun Sister Irene O’Connor—a sincere, soulful, and unconsciously psychedelic song sequence devoted to self-reflection and awakening the spirit within. A collection of original folk spirituals written by and channelled through O’Connor with guitar, electric organ, drum machine and her angelic voice, the album was recorded and mixed in an astonishingly futuristic fashion by fellow nun and recording engineer Sister Marimil Lobregat. This edition from Freedom To Spend is the first authorized reissue of this holy grail since 1976; the album restored and remastered with love from the best available sources by Jessica Thompson.

At first, Gia Margaret called her new album ‘Romantic Piano’ to be a bit cheeky. Its spare, gentle piano works share more spirit with Erik Satie, Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guébrou and the ‘Marginalia’ releases of Masakatsu Takagi than they do with, say, a cozy and candlelit date night. But in that cheekiness lies hidden intention: across the gorgeous set, “Romantic” is suggested in a more classic sense, what the Germans call waldeinsamkeit. Its compositions conjure the sublime themes of the Romantic poets: solitude in nature; nature’s ability to heal and to teach; a sense of contented melancholy. "I wanted to make music that was useful,” says Margaret, vastly understating the power of the record. ‘Romantic Piano’ is curious, calming, patient and incredibly moving — but it doesn’t overstay its welcome for more than a second. Margaret’s debut, ‘There’s Always Glimmer,’ was a lyrical wonder, but when an illness on tour left her unable to sing, she made her ambient album ‘Mia Gargaret’ (another cheeky title!) which revealed a keen intuition for arrangement and composition not fully shown on ‘There’s Always Glimmer’s lyrical songs. ‘Romantic Piano’, too, is almost totally without words. “Writing instrumental music, in general, is a much more joyful process than I find in lyrical songwriting,” she says. “The process ultimately effects my songwriting.” And while Margaret has more songwriterly material on the way, ‘Romantic Piano’ solidifies her as a compositional force. Originally pursuing a degree in composition, Margaret dropped out of music school halfway through. “I really didn’t want to play in an orchestra,” she said of her decision, “I really just wanted to write movie scores. Then, I started to focus more and more on being a songwriter. ‘Romantic Piano’ scratched an old itch.” ‘Romantic Piano’ does indeed touch on a rare feeling in art often only reserved for the cinema — a simultaneous wide-lens awe of existence and the post-language intimate inner monologue of being marooned in these skulls of ours. How very Romantic!

ノスタルジックな深夜の音楽。20世紀前半のギリシャで流行した大衆歌謡であるレベティコの偉人であるGiorgos Katsarosによるスティール弦ギターとヴォーカルによる、時代を超えた魅力を放つ素晴らしい演奏をコンパイルした画期的編集盤が〈Mississippi Records〉と〈Olvido Records〉の共同でリリース。Katsarosの現存する初期の64の録音からリマスタリングされた貴重な10曲をセレクトした一枚。催眠的なメロディーが、親指で弾くベースラインの反復に支えられ、その深く悲しげな声が響き渡っています。

We are thrilled to release Bon Iver's debut full-length 'For Emma, Forever Ago'. Bon Iver (pronounced: bohn eevair; French for "good winter" and spelled wrong on purpose) is a greeting, a celebration and a sentiment. It is a new statement of an artist moving on and establishing the groundwork for a lasting career. 'For Emma, Forever Ago' is the debut of this lineage of songs. As a whole, the record is entirely cohesive throughout and remains centered around a particular aesthetic, prompted by the time and place for which it was recorded. Justin Vernon, the primary force behind Bon Iver, seems to have tested his boundaries to the maximum, and in doing so has managed to break free from any pre-cursing or finished forms.

All My People (self-released on 1 March 2019 and distributed by Rush Hour)

On Malarial Dream, Alvarius B. drifts out of Cairo with a fevered, mostly instrumental songbook that bends late‑period Sun City Girls melancholy through Middle Eastern modes, psych‑warped folk and the quiet volatility of a hand‑picked Cairo/avant‑jazz ensemble. With Malarial Dream, Alvarius B. - the solo avatar of Alan Bishop - resurfaces from his adopted home of Cairo with a record that feels less like a follow‑up and more like an apparition. Tracked in and around a tangle of other projects over the past several years, it captures Bishop in a different register from his recent, caustic singer‑songwriter outings. Instead of venomous monologues and cracked torch songs, this album drifts closer to the twilight zone of late Sun City Girls - think Mister Lonely and Funeral Mariachi - where melody, atmosphere and a kind of exhausted tenderness slip in through the back door. The “malarial” in the title is apt: the music moves in waves of clarity and delirium, heat‑blurred and slightly poisonous, yet weirdly soothing. The setting is a psych‑warped folk landscape steeped in Middle Eastern modes and the broader “beyond” that Bishop has been chasing for decades. Mostly instrumental, the record leans on winding themes and small, memorable motifs rather than song‑form in the strict sense. Two obscure covers surface like half‑remembered radio ghosts, but the bulk of the material is original, written to take advantage of a remarkable cast of players orbiting Cairo’s experimental and jazz scenes. You can hear the city in the details: stray percussion patterns that feel like they escaped from a street procession, microtonal inflections in string lines, the way drones and harmonies seem to curl around each other like incense smoke in a too‑hot room. Bishop’s guitar and compositional voice sit at the centre, but Malarial Dream is very much a collaged ensemble record. Adham Zidan, Aya Hemeda, Cherif El Masri and Morgan Mikkelsen - all associated in one way or another with The Invisible Hands - bring a lived‑in flexibility, able to shift from skeletal folk frameworks to denser, almost prog‑like passages without losing the thread. Maurice Louca and Sam Shalabi, known for their work with The Dwarfs of East Agouza, help tilt the arrangements toward trance and destabilisation: keyboards, electronics and guitar colour smear the edges of otherwise simple progressions, turning them into slowly rotating mobiles of sound. Elsewhere, contributions from Amélie Legrand, Asher Gamedze, Eyvind Kang, Hana Al Bayaty, Huda Asfour and Sammy Sayed add strings, reeds and rhythmic detail, widening the palette until it feels less like a band and more like a small, shifting orchestra. The mood throughout is nocturnal, more candlelit than sun‑blasted. Pieces often start with a bare figure - a fingerpicked pattern, a muttered line on oud or guitar, a skeletal rhythm - then accumulate detail: a bowed counter‑melody here, a percussion flourish there, faint electronics seeping up from the floorboards. The psych element is less about fuzz and freak‑outs than about subtle warping: pitches bend just off centre, tempos waver like someone breathing through a fever, harmonies resolve in slightly unexpected places. At times the music settles into a kind of desert‑chamber minimalism; at others, it hints at film score, as if these were cues for a movie that flickers in and out of existence while you listen. Produced by Alvarius B. with Adham Zidan, Malarial Dream carries the handmade, one‑off aura that has always surrounded Bishop’s work, but it doesn’t feel minor or throwaway. Instead, it reads like a sideways summation of where he’s arrived after fifteen years in Cairo: a space where the ghosts of Sun City Girls, Arabic song, free improvisation and private‑press folk records all converse at low volume. For longtime followers, the album offers the pleasure of recognising familiar impulses - the bittersweet melodies, the taste for the obscure, the dark humour lurking at the edges - in a new, humid environment. For newcomers, it’s a gently disorienting entry point: a fever dream you step into halfway through, and leave unsure of exactly what happened, only that you want to go back in.

The compilation that started the renaissance. In 2002 Audika Records entered into an exclusive licensing agreement with the estate of Arthur Russell to compile and issue previously unreleased and out of print material from Arthur’s vast archive. This first album Calling Out Of Context, features 12 previously unreleased tracks of Buddhist Bubblegum Alt Disco Pop recorded during Arthur’s prime years 1985-90.