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Spacious, vibrant free jazz ecosystems sprout from London duo Exotic Sin’s debut studio jams with Swiss drummer Sartorius, uncoiling along vectors akin an unbuckled TLF Trio or The Necks and Don Cherry’s quieter communal jams.
‘In Session’ pairs the the duo of Kenichi Iwasa (known for work with Beatrice Dillon and more recently Ziúr on The Tapeworm) & Naima Karlsson (daughter of Neneh Cherry, half-sister of popstar Mabel) with the prolific Swiss percussionist regarded for work with everyone from Herbert to Valentina Magaletti and for ECM. Those credits should coordinate heads to the fine-tuned sensitivities and digits at work here, who take all the time needed to unravel keys and woodwind on slowly shifting, asymmetric beds of wooden drums and tickled metal with an unhurried quality and sublime tension.
The six pieces shimmer mirage-like with loose structures emerging that suggest the listener act on pareidolia-type senses to fill in the gaps, make sense of it in the imagination’s playground. With preternatural effortlessness they limn breezily open space in the opening path, and draw in closer with the tactile strikes and pings of of path 2, reserving the right to switch up into glorious free jazz clatter and scree on the 3rd path, and seemingly enact an impossible physics of melting and puckered pulses in path 4, before introducing a fizzing line of range-finding electronics that just about holds together a parting piece of elegant collapse and diffusion.
In the wrong hands this stuff could have been a difficult mess, but cool, quizzical heads and hands prevail on this one with exemplary results.
live during the 4th anniversary of Sagome at Cafe Oto, London - 20th January 2024 ( January Jenilek + Ottomani Parker Live)
Recorded in one straight take - no over dubbing.
Sydney-based Korean drummer and improviser Chloe Kim considers New York's constant movement on this volatile solo workout, exploring heady rhythmelodic cycles, extended percussion techniques and unexpected textures. RIYL Milford Graves, Max Roach, Buddy Rich, Eli Keszler or Chris Corsano. Solo drumming albums are still a rarity, so 'Ratsnake' is already a pretty thrilling prospect, but this one's worth getting a little gassed over. Kim's a pro - a lecturer at Sydney's Conservatorium of Music and a seasoned performer who's played in improv trio Holopeak, alongside Aussie saxophonist Jeremy Rose and with iconic "avant groove" act Medeski Marin & Wood. And 'Ratsnake' is her chance to broadcast her own signature techniques in high definition without interruption; for a drummer who's best-known for playing solo for 100 hours in 10 days (seriously, check '100 Hours' on Bandcamp for the juicy edited highlights), that shouldn't be too hard. 'Ratsnake' is her fifth solo release, but Kim considers it her proper debut album - it's been recorded and mixed by Randall Dunn, after all - and on the title track, she shows us what she's capable of. Her tempo-flexing, circuitous rhythms are front and center, sure, but there's no shortage of tonal experimentation on show. She doesn't play melodies as such, but Kim knows her kit so well that the melodic outlines appear like ghosts, generated by her arsenal of tuned gongs, scraped cymbals and carefully balanced toms. Similarly, on 'Birth Dream' Kim balances out her courtly marches with ringing, regal resonances that she uproots with chaotic fills. The name of the album and some of its track titles relate to Korean folklore; the Korean rat snake is a symbol of abundance, and Kim's mother had seen one in a "conception dream" before Kim was born. So it's hard not to hear a link between the percussionist's living, breathing patterns and the tempo-fluxing rhythms that sit at the center of Korean folk music. She explored these essential beats in 2018 and there are still traces of that framework here; even though Kim's style has been shaped by jazz and free improv, there's still something personal and idiosyncratic in there, just like that rat snake.
Diriaou (“Thursday” in Breton) captures the singular collaboration between Kristen Noguès-pioneering Celtic harpist and explorer of Breton tradition-and legendary British saxophonist John Surman, renowned for his atmospheric jazz on ECM. Recorded live in 1998 at the Dre Ar Wenojenn festival, this album presents the duo weaving together original compositions and traditional melodies into a tapestry of free folk, modal improvisation, and ambient soundscapes.
Noguès, deeply rooted in Breton music yet always pushing boundaries, and Surman, whose career spans jazz innovation and evocative sound worlds, invent a language that is both ancient and strikingly modern. The repertoire draws on Breton songs (“Maro Pontkalek,” “Le Scorff”), with highlights like “Baz Valan,” where harp and saxophone engage in celestial dialogue, and “Kernow,” a theme that dissolves into mist. Vocals appear sparingly, with Surman on “Kleier” and Noguès on “Kerzhadenn” and her signature “Berceuse,” adding further depth to the duo’s sonic palette.
Diriaou stands as a testament to the pair’s extra-Celtic inspiration and improvisational spirit, offering a rare and mesmerizing journey through landscapes both familiar and uncharted. This release is a unique document of two visionary artists at the height of their creative powers, now available thanks to Souffle Continu Records.
Diriaou (“Thursday” in Breton) captures the singular collaboration between Kristen Noguès-pioneering Celtic harpist and explorer of Breton tradition-and legendary British saxophonist John Surman, renowned for his atmospheric jazz on ECM. Recorded live in 1998 at the Dre Ar Wenojenn festival, this album presents the duo weaving together original compositions and traditional melodies into a tapestry of free folk, modal improvisation, and ambient soundscapes.
Noguès, deeply rooted in Breton music yet always pushing boundaries, and Surman, whose career spans jazz innovation and evocative sound worlds, invent a language that is both ancient and strikingly modern. The repertoire draws on Breton songs (“Maro Pontkalek,” “Le Scorff”), with highlights like “Baz Valan,” where harp and saxophone engage in celestial dialogue, and “Kernow,” a theme that dissolves into mist. Vocals appear sparingly, with Surman on “Kleier” and Noguès on “Kerzhadenn” and her signature “Berceuse,” adding further depth to the duo’s sonic palette.
Diriaou stands as a testament to the pair’s extra-Celtic inspiration and improvisational spirit, offering a rare and mesmerizing journey through landscapes both familiar and uncharted. This release is a unique document of two visionary artists at the height of their creative powers, now available thanks to Souffle Continu Records.
For many bands, having all their gear stolen would be catastrophic. For Third Ear Band, this unfortunate 1968 incident opened a portal to beneficial change that would ultimately define one of British experimental music's most singular statements. Now, Antarctica Starts Here presents the first-time vinyl reissue of the group's self-titled 1970 sophomore album - often called Elements due to its elemental track titles - complete with new liner notes by Dave Segal that illuminate this remarkable chapter in acoustic psychedelia's evolution. Leader and percussionist Glen Sweeney viewed the theft as a sign to alter Third Ear Band's approach entirely, switching to exclusively acoustic instruments just as electrified psychedelia reached full bloom. Alongside Paul Minns (oboe, recorder, whistles, flutes) and Richard Coff (violin, viola), Sweeney struck out on an individualistic path that blended Indian raga with chamber music - without plugging in. Following their powerful 1969 debut Alchemy, which established them as a solemn force in the global underground, Third Ear Band's self-titled album represented the full flowering of their alchemical vision. The four tracks - "Air," "Earth," "Fire," and "Water" - correspond to the basic components of medieval European alchemists' doctrines, creating what Dave Segal describes as "epic, trance-inducing jams that suggested secret knowledge of infinity." What distinguished Third Ear Band from their contemporaries was their peculiar estrangement from the counterculture on a sonic level. As Segal notes, "Even outré contemporaries such as Comus and Jan Dukes De Grey sounded like pop groups compared to TEB." Having no traditional front person or electric instruments, the group forged a path that flowered most vividly on this album. The methodology was deceptively simple yet profoundly effective: "Sweeney laid down a steady pulse on hand drums, while Minns and Coff wove in melismatic patterns on oboe, recorder, violin and viola." This approach created what Segal describes as "a communal transcendence in sound – a hypnotic swirl that doesn't swing, but rather wafts and undulates with cloistered beauty." The album's four elemental compositions exist in what Segal calls "an eternal now, a perpetual wow. It is an ouroboros of organic textures, seemingly magicked into the air spontaneously, yet possessing a rigor that suggests long hours in the lab." Without electricity, Third Ear Band somehow "burrowed deeper into your consciousness" than their amplified contemporaries. Originally released on Harvest in 1970, this album has remained out of print on vinyl for decades, making ASH Records' reissue a significant event for collectors of British experimental music. The influence of Third Ear Band's acoustic approach can be traced through subsequent generations of artists from Popol Vuh to Trad, Gras Och Stenar and beyond - groups that understood how acoustic instruments could achieve psychedelic transcendence without electronic amplification. This reissue preserves the album's original four-part structure while presenting it with the sonic clarity that reveals the intricate interplay between Sweeney's rhythmic foundation and the melodic explorations of Minns and Coff. The inclusion of Dave Segal's comprehensive liner notes provides crucial context for understanding Third Ear Band's unique position within the experimental music landscape.
SQUANDERERS return to deliver "Skantagio", the follow up to their debut album, If a Body Meet a Body (Shimmy-Disc, 2024). “We were in the studio for one day, and performed all pieces on that first LP prior to breaking for lunch. Skantiago contains the pieces we performed after lunch,” says bassist and Shimmy-Disc founder, Kramer. “We may be SQUANDERERS, but we don’t dally. And we don’t labour over our spontaneous inventions while we’re in the studio.”
Chicago Underground Duo is the long-running collaborative project of composer/trumpeter/electronicist Rob Mazurek (Exploding Star Orchestra, Isotope 217, New Future City Radio with Damon Locks) and composer/drummer/mbiraist Chad Taylor (jaimie branch’s Fly or Die, Marshall Allen’s Ghost Horizons, Luke Stewart’s Silt Trio). Hyperglyph is their first album in 11 years, and 8th in the absolute cabinet of wonders that is the Chicago Underground Duo.
The pair have played music together in a multitude of formations over nearly three decades, including their ongoing partnership in Mazurek’s large-format-skyward-expressionism vehicle Exploding Star Orchestra, in the expanded Chicago Underground Trio & Quartet (with guitarist Jeff Parker), and in a plethora of other assemblages. The early albums by the Duo have proven to be embryonic blueprints for the avant-jazz / electronic / indie rock hybridizations of the time, making them majorly important moments in the articulation of the “jazz” dimensionality of the then-burgeoning "post rock" sound. That sound, of course, was being transmitted far and wide due to the success of these groups as well as Mazurek’s Isotope 217 project with Jeff Parker, and the Chicago Underground’s frequent collaborators in Tortoise.
But the sounds being created by this extended family are and were far from static. Just as most of the still-working artists born of that Chicago era have evolved, reconfigured, and grown, Chicago Underground Duo has undergone a number of musical moltings, with the project always in the background of disparate individual aural investigations — always an option, always an outlet. As the project drops off and picks back up, the concurrent personal evolutions of Mazurek and Taylor make the Duo a true reflection of their own lives and friendship.
“Rob is my longest collaborator and also one of my best friends,” says Taylor, who first performed with Mazurek at a club in Chicago in 1988, aged 15.
“When it feels right we do it,” says Mazurek of the gaps in duo activity. “We have worked together and have been friends for a long time. This creates a kind of continuity not only in the music, but in our lives.”
Musically, there are certainly internalized nods here to AACM composers like Wadada Leo Smith, or albums like Don Cherry & Ed Blackwell’s “Mu” and El Corazon, but the songs of Hyperglyph exemplify Mazurek and Taylor’s individualities while also addressing another longtime influence on the Chicago Underground Duo sound — the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost of extreme studio editing in jazz-adjacent music, Miles Davis and Teo Macero’s Bitches Brew, In A Silent Way, and Get Up With It.
“Post production has always been a big part of our process,” says Taylor.
“Sometimes it just flows and we one-take a thing,” Mazurek elaborates. “Other things take time to ferment. We hit those hard in the post production.”
International Anthem engineer Dave Vettraino was indispensable as part of this process, recording and mixing the entire album at IARC HQ in Chicago. “We are very open and free in the studio,” says Mazurek. “Working with Dave is a joy because he is so intuitive and open with his approach as well. We can try anything with him. In this way it is more like a trio than a duo.”
Couple this trio’s take on the now classic cut-and-recut production techniques of Davis/Macero with Mazurek and Taylor’s longtime interest in deep electronic sounds (think Bernard Parmegiani, Morton Subotnick, Xenakis, Eliane Radigue, Plux Quba), transformative processing (think Autechre, King Tubby, Mouse On Mars, Carl Craig) and we can finally get close to understanding just where the duo lands in this lineage — this ongoing narrative each individual finds themselves in whether they see it or not. The Chicago Underground Duo, it seems, sees it.
While the musical language of Mazurek and Taylor can certainly be clocked in the slew of projects that they participate in together, the sound of a Chicago Underground Duo album is singular among them. Hyperglyph is no exception and could even be considered a distillation of that intuitive yet complex sound. A key can be found in the title of the album itself: highly complex geometric structures which can seem overly complex at first but, when thousands are arrayed in 3D space and with user training and adaptation, can significantly enhance perception and information assimilation and lead to new knowledge and insights.
The album opener “Click Song” kicks off with a blown-out horn chant from Mazurek, doubled by tuned bells and nestled into a muscular and symmetrical stereo-overdubbed polyrhythm from Taylor. Synthesized bass pulls our ears along cyclically, dropping in and out to almost severe dynamic effect while Mazurek and the subtle-yet-persistent bells elaborate upon the melody before ultimately departing from their repetitive psalm in favor of improvisation. It’s all held together by the steady, deep, chest-thump boom of Taylor’s kick drum pattern.
“There has always been a lot of African influence in the rhythms we play,” says Taylor. “With this record, specifically, we utilize rhythms from Nigeria, Mali, Zimbabwe, and Ghana.” Taken as a whole, spiritually, this introductory three-minute stomper lives somewhere between a Tuareg wedding and the most hypnotic moments of the click songs of Northern Africa.
Title track “Hyperglyph” follows, and begins with a chromatic moving harmony played by Mazurek on the RMI electric piano, an instrument famously utilized on Miles Davis’ groundbreaking Filles de Kilimanjaro. The vibe here, though, is one of unyielding, trancelike repetition. The trumpet introduces the time, with Taylor's chunky smacking rhythm hitting hard from the get go. Eventually, the tune undergoes a transformation, with the back and forth of melody and rhythm hitting a fever pitch. A pitch-shifted trumpet becomes a New Orleans march baritone. Dennis Bovell-style dub sounds enter (or, maybe, reveal themselves) at the start of the song’s final movement, followed by wordless incantations. Swelling and saturated, the track sounds as if it’s about to tear itself apart. Static pulsing merges and overtakes the recorded percussion to present a new rhythm of hissing electronics — the harnessed wailing of the unleashed ghost in the machine. A spiritual awakening from the bowels of the earth.
“Hemiunu”, a Chad Taylor composition, is a waltz based around a simple piano figure repeated throughout. A folk melody from anywhere, the kind that’s been in the air for as long as anyone can remember. One might imagine the melody played clawhammer on an Appalachian afternoon, bowed somberly on the Chinese erhu, or hummed nonchalantly on the factory line. From the jump, Taylor’s percussion threads itself into the sound of a well-worn upright piano as the high register is haunted in wide stereo by that roiling RMI electric piano in octaves, alternately dubby and harplike. Enter Mazurek with another folk-like melodic phrase. Pause. Again. Pause. Leaving room for the now densely waltzing bouquet to bloom before diving deep into laser-sharp Lee Morganesque territory with a wildly vibrating high trumpet cry, but with a tone Mazurek owns completely.
The deeper reference for Mazurek’s most untethered emotional playing is his late friend and mentor Bill Dixon, an extraction most apparent in the three-part "Egyptian Suite.” At the start of part one (“The Architect”) a cyclical pattern from Taylor becomes a bed for Mazurek’s repeating, descending, synthetic-Egyptian scaled theme. This call to action dissolves into the second movement, “Triangulation of Light,” where Taylor’s bowed cymbals set the stage for an exploration of microtonal color with and against the occasional joining and un-joining of tones that stretch the frequencies to their limits from Mazurek's open and half muted trumpet. Like a tornado siren in the distance, breaking through the membrane of storm clouds on the horizon, in search of another siren.
The third and final movement, “Architectonics of Time,” announces itself with free rolling swaths of percussion from Taylor à la Robert Frank Pozar’s mind-bending percussion on The Bill Dixon Orchestra’s classic Intents and Purposes. Here, though, the lineup is limited to two, with no overdubs or post-production. Taylor's singular style and Mazurek's tonal painting coalesce into a maelstrom of intervallic tone and beat before the final repeat of the lead melody from the suite’s first movement. It truly feels like reaching the summit. It’s pure and free duo interaction, the symbiosis of 30 years.
“Succulent Amber,” the final track on Hyperglyph, could fit just as easily on side two of Autobahn. After a brief modular synth-induced pan-harmonic melody shift, a steady kalimba is joined by the gentle intermittent raindrop-melodicism of the RMI electric piano in this understated final duo performance, unadorned by further studio arrangement. It’s a full-on comedown moment after the intensity of “Egyptian Suite,” though rather than winding down or petering out, here the Chicago Underground Duo still manage to point toward some kind of incoming mystery with four sudden-yet-patient ascending chords on the low-register of the RMI electric piano just before the curtains close. The piano notes end on a leading tone, leaving the resolution to the listener.
Once we’ve climbed the mountain, they remind us, we have to deal with what’s on the other side.
Each cassette in this trilogy is based off over a decade of audio-spiritual research on three beings who have created highly spiritual musical compositions, and who have transitioned off this planet in the physical: Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane (Swamini Turiyasangitananda), and Sun Ra. You will hear two ensembles - Roman Norfleet & Be Present Art Group as well as The Cosmic Tones Research Trio - play interpretations, responses, and hypotheses pertaining to the research on the music and message of those beings. Each cassette is simultaneously in tribute and is also a sonic dissertation. These cassettes are intended as future research on how the music of these beings affected the playing, the witnesses, and the hearers at the time of performance.
The first cassette "Something’s Happening: The Transitioning of a Pharoah" centers the beingness and music of Pharaoh Sanders. This recording took place on the day of his transition (9-24-22) at The Lumber Room in Portland, Oregon and features the ensemble Roman Norfleet & Be Present Art Group. The news of Pharaoh’s transition stunned the whole planet. The ensemble had different compositions prepared for this day originally, but immediately made new sonic arrangements in response, prayer, grief, and gratitude. Norfleet had a formative encounter with Sanders around 2013 while working as a computer salesman and learned about the music of Sanders directly from him. They spent hours in conversation on technology and music, which included talks about Sun Ra.
The second cassette is titled "Explorations of Turiya Loka" and was recorded at Leach Botanical Garden in Portland, Oregon (9-24-23). "Turiya" is a spiritual, blissful state and "Loka" means planet - according to Vedic spiritual systems. Turiya Loka is a spiritual, blissful planet. This cassette holds a recorded ceremony by Roman Norfleet & Be Present Art Group honoring the music and spiritual teachings of Swamini Turiyasangitananda (also known as Alice Coltrane) and explores what Turiya Loka may sound like. Turiya Loka is a home for Swamini Turiyasangitananda based on her song “Om Supreme” on the album Eternity. Since 2017, Norfleet has been studying and fellowshipping with the students of Swamini Turiyasangitananda who are based in California and still run the Vedantic Center organization. The organization continues to hold classes and ceremony. In this recording, listeners will get a chance to hear spiritual insight from Radha Botofasina, who is a student of Swamini Turiyasangitananda and lived on the ashram the spiritual teacher founded in Agoura Hills, California.
The final cassette consists of music from The Cosmic Tones Research Trio composed of Harlan Silverman, Kennedy Verrett, and Norfleet. It was recorded in community at Mississippi Records in Portland, Oregon (12-3-23). The ensemble's name gives a nod to Sun Ra’s "Cosmic Tones For Mental Therapy" album title and was formed for extensive research purposes pertaining to universal and cosmic tones - how they affect human mental wellness and overall interspecies wellbeing. Sun Ra’s "Cosmic Tones For Mental Therapy" is a great example and research tool for audio wellness. The evening of this concert was the trio’s first mental wellness event which had tremendous positive effects on the beings and buildings present and surrounding.
Drag City reissues Land of Plenty, the recorded debut from Chicago guitar duo Bill MacKay and Ryley Walker. Captured live during a January 2015 residency at the Whistler, these performances showcase two kindred spirits in full creative flight, blending their influences into a seamless, intuitive exchange. Meeting only a year before the recording, MacKay and Walker found common ground in artists as varied as Albert King, Laura Nyro, Nick Drake, Bert Jansch, Ali Akbar Khan and Jimi Hendrix. Across six-strings, twelve-strings and requinto, they weave a dialogue that draws from blues, folk, jazz and global traditions, folding them effortlessly into each other in real time. The set brims with interplay, each player listening and responding with precision and imagination. The stereo mix keeps their guitars distinct while capturing the shared headspace where improvisation and composition meet. Live recording adds an extra charge, amplifying the richness and detail in their sound. Originally released on Whistler in 2015, Land of Plenty stands as one of the most dynamic and engaging acoustic guitar records of its era — a document of two musicians discovering just how far their combined energies could take them.
Ben LaMar Gay’s de facto debut album, 'Downtown Castles Can Never Block The Sun', was our attempt to introduce the legendary Chicago composer / improviser / renaissance man to the rest of the world with a compilation of tracks from 7 albums he made over 7 years (though he hadn’t yet made the effort to actually release). The material showcases Gay’s penchant for genre-hopping – from Steve Reich-ian soundscape voyages to Don Cherry-esque polyrhythm treks to Jorge Ben-style vocal-and-string earworms – while keeping his singular musical voice in focus.
In the years since its release, this long OOP collection has become a touchstone, foreshadowing the breadth and scope of Gay’s output since. The songs-between-the-songs warped Soul Americana madness and beauty of 'Open Arms To Open Us', the unhinged long form freedom of 'Certain Reveries' – each fresh mode would defy expectation if without the context established by Downtown Castles. To quote our OG announcement of the album: “to call it ‘eclectic’ would only scratch the surface. This music is everything.”
The IA11 Edition of this LP comes with an IARC2025 obi strip plus a 4-page insert booklet featuring new (old) photos and new liner notes by musician (and longtime BLG friend/collaborator) Gira Dahnee.
Katatonic Silentio makes her Fleur Sauvage debut with a live recording captured in the Hypnose Room at La Nature 2023—a raw, improvised performance split into four parts across two 12”s. Moving between abstract electronics, textured noise and cinematic ambient, the set balances low-end weight and grainy chaos with fleeting moments of stillness. Tension underpins the entire performance, occasionally boiling over into jagged peaks of intensity. Rather than simply documenting a performance, this release preserves a ritual: unstable, embodied, and elemental. As ever with Katatonic Silentio, the sound is not merely heard—it is lived in.
2025 repress. "Natural Information Society, like their partners in time Bitchin Bajas, live their days in flow motion. Rhythms come and go, instruments sound as a means to a greater end. Music is the way of their life. Their debut convergence, Automaginary, feels as natural as it does inevitable. Both groups were first heard in 2010, both emerging from solo endeavors that accessed a vastness, more room than a single player might ultimately fill -- a place then for fellow travelers! Joshua Abrams, a questing bassist and improviser by trade, with an extensive discography of solo recordings and collaborations with a wide variety of artists, formed Natural Information Society as a conduit for the live presentation of his guimbri music. Abrams had delved into the sound of the threestringed Gnawan lute on his own, intrigued by the instrument's ability to provide melodic and rhythmic direction with a minimal, hypnotic palette. Known for the drone also are Bitchin Bajas. Cooper Crain of CAVE started the Bajas to explore his fascination with vintage electronics and recording techniques. With Dan Quinlivan on keyboards as well, Bitchin Bajas' discography has explored a range of dynamic approaches, producing various proportions of atmosphere and soundtrack that move from becalmed stasis to synthetic beat-building with a prescient liquidity. Both Natural Information Society and Bitchin Bajas are in pursuit of the unconscious in their musical expression, and through their independent methods, both have ridden the wind to unseen places, using the playing as the carpet that will take them there. A multitude of influences swarm amoebically in their sounds, from the mud of ancient Afro-groove to 20th-century classical austerity, from the clatter of freedom jazz to the 4/4 of kraut and disco and fusion beyond -- and then beyond the music and into the air. Wrapped up in a screen-printed jacket from visual artist Lisa Alvarado, whose aesthetic sense is a touchstone for the vision of Natural Information Society, Automaginary is psychedelic and ambient and jazz -- yet none of it either, the whole being more than the sum of former parts. This is music of unique variance, a remarkably perfect congregation of the two tribes that are Natural Information Society & Bitchin Bajas."
Second volume of unreleased solo material by Tim Barnes, Noumena explores the thresholds of perception with long-form compositions built from minimal gestures, field recordings, and ambient textures. A durational and meditative counterpart to Lost Words.
Big Tip! Released shortly after its companion Lost Words, Noumena is the second chapter in a stunning return to solo work by Tim Barnes - percussionist, composer, and sound artist whose influence across avant-garde and improvised music is immeasurable. A study in durational drift and perception, Noumena eschews conventional structure in favor of immersive textures, soft frictions, and the subtle emergence of acoustic detail.
Recorded between 2016 and 2019, the album presents three long-form pieces (Note, Difference, Noumenon) that unfold slowly, often hovering at the threshold of silence. Through field recordings, incidental sounds, and sparse percussive interventions, Barnes offers a deeply immersive sound: field recordings, found objects, analog manipulations, and barely-processed percussion dissolve into each other, creating three long-form pieces—Note, Difference, and Noumenon—that meditate on the porous edge between perception and abstraction. In 2021, Tim was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 54, and he and his family went public with this immediately. The response from Tim’s network of friends and musical peers was overwhelming, but the lingering shutdown meant only remote and long-distance interactions were possible. Beginning in late 2021, a large body of recordings coordinated and assembled by Tim’s longtime friend Ken (Bundy) Brown, with whom Tim had worked in the past as a member of the group Pullman, early pioneers of the new Americana movement in the indie scene of the late 90s.
Rather than a showcase of virtuosity, Noumena reveals Barnes's acute sensitivity to space and resonance - his ability to draw musicality from what might otherwise remain unnoticed. Presented on LP in a limited edition via Quakebasket, and distributed by Drag City, this is a vital document from one of experimental music’s most quietly important figures.
Bitterviper is the brand-new quartet of Nikos Veliotis (cello), Taku Unami (synthesizer), Sarah Hennies (percussion), and David Grubbs (guitar, piano), four individuals who separately are responsible for some of the most striking and wildly idiosyncratic music of the past couple of decades -- not to mention the duo collaborations between Grubbs and Unami (the albums Comet Meta and Failed Celestial Creatures) and Veliotis and Grubbs (The Harmless Dust). Athens-based Nikos Veliotis set Bitterviper into motion with four overdubbed pieces of dense psychoacoustic marvels on the cello; Grubbs responded with characteristically subtle tracery on piano, guitar, and lap steel; Unami weighed in electronically from Tokyo to mysteriously thicken both the plot and the low end; and Hennies applied her compositional gifts to structure the whole thing with an Occam's Razor approach to percussion. But once you drop the needle on Bitterviper, its origin story becomes ancient history; you're suddenly in the presence of an ensemble that sounds like no other and for whom there are no false steps. It's all fair game when this is how you choose to play; Bitterviper is a salvo of confidence and conviction, and this is only the beginning. David Grubbs is Distinguished Professor of Music at Brooklyn College and The Graduate Center, CUNY. He was a member of Gastr del Sol, Bastro, and Squirrel Bait, and has performed with Tony Conrad, Pauline Oliveros, Luc Ferrari, Will Oldham, Loren Connors, Jan St. Werner, The Red Krayola, and many others. Sarah Hennies is a composer and percussionist based in upstate New York whose work is concerned with a variety of musical, sociopolitical, and psychological issues including queer and trans identity, psychoacoustics, and the social and neurological conditions underlying creative thought. She is currently a Visiting Assistant Professor of Music at Bard College. Taku Unami's work is influenced by science fiction, supernatural horror and weird fiction. He's the composer of film scores for directors including Isao Okishima and Takeshi Furusawa, was half (with Toshiya Tsunoda) of the group Wovenland, is one-third of the group Hontatedori, and has collaborated with, among others, Annette Krebs, Radu Malfatti, Jean-Luc Guionnet, Jarrod Fowler, and Graham Lambkin. Nikos Veliotis founded Mohammad with ILIOS and Coti K. (renamed MMMD in 2015). In the 1990s he developed an experimental practice, exploring image and sound, mainly through the cello; he also performed in numerous groups, most notably CRANC (with Angharad and Rhodri Davies) and Looper (with Ingar Zach and Martin Küchen)."
Black Truffle is pleased to announce a new solo album by Eiko Ishibashi, her first for the label, following on from the duo recording Ichida alongside bassist Darin Gray. Hyakki Yagyō (Night Parade of One Hundred Demons) was produced for the ‘Japan Supernatural’ exhibition at The Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney focusing on ghost stories and folklore from the Edo period onwards. As with The Dream My Bones Dream (Drag City, 2018), the album is a response to troubling questions about Japanese history, and the influence of the past upon the present, but finds Ishibashi shifting further away from her earlier piano-led songwriting and showing a deepening interest in electronics and audio collaging.
The two sidelong parts of Hyakki Yagyō feature layered synthesisers, acoustic instrumentation, recited verse and field recordings, at times densely mixed but always with a subtle interplay of changing elements. The influence of European and American forerunners as diverse as Alvin Curran, David Behrman and Strafe Für Rebellion can be traced, yet at the same time Ishibashi evokes the flute and string sounds associated with Japanese storytelling, and draws directly on the subversive literary tradition of Kyoka (‘mad poetry’) with a verse by the 15th-century poet Ikkyū Sōjun repeated throughout the album. Revisiting what has gone before, re-thinking what is possible musically, as a way of articulating what else might be possible in the future.
As Ishibashi’s liner notes make clear, the album reflects an attention to persistent dangers, myths and evasions in Japanese culture – as well as the lurking uncertainties that might threaten positive change. This would seem to be manifested in the emerging melodies soon met by dissonance, erratic collisions and near silence, as well as the eerie manipulation of the double-tracked vocals. Ishibashi’s underlying concerns ring true more widely of course. Hyakki Yagyō is a work of multiplicities, and mystery, a landscape where nothing is as it seems at first, and everything is vulnerable to sudden violent interruptions.
The album was produced with regular collaborators Jim O’Rourke (double bass) and Joe Talia (percussion), and features dancer and choreographer Ryuichi Fujimura performing Ikkyū’s satirical tanka. O’Rourke’s immersive mix creates a three-dimensional effect, with Ishibashi’s various sound sources enmeshing and interacting in captivating ways.
Pressed on coloured vinyl and presented in a deluxe package with an inner sleeve featuring an artist portrait and liner notes from Eiko Ishibashi.
Cover and label design by Shuhei Abe.
Back cover design by Lasse Marhaug.
Mixed and mastered by Jim O’Rourke.
Yowzers is a new album by Chicago composer, improvisor, instrumentalist and musical folklorist Ben LaMar Gay. The twelve track collection is a leap forward in the lexicon of Gay’s recorded output, and a veritable masterwork of ancient inner-body rhythms and intuitive melodic storytelling.
It’s worth mentioning that a leap forward for Gay is no small feat. The musical ground he has covered in the last decade, both as a bandleader and collaborator, is immense. His de facto debut album—the 2018 compilation Downtown Castles Can Never Block The Sun—properly introduced the world to Gay by placing fifteen stylistically diverse tracks from seven then-unreleased albums next to one another, letting the populace outside of Cook County in on an unintentionally best-kept-secret that Chicagoans had already been marveling at for quite some time. That secret has become even more open in the years since, with the full unveiling of those seven previously-unreleased albums, the release of his critically-acclaimed 2021 song cycle Open Arms To Open Us, and the explosive free sonics of 2022’s Certain Reveries.
In addition to being featured on a staggering number of International Anthem releases (including albums by Makaya McCraven, jaimie branch, Damon Locks, Ibelisse Guardia Ferragutti & Frank Rosaly), Gay is one of the most prolific collaborators in creative music today. He makes active contributions to Mike Reed’s Separatist Party, Joshua Abrams’s Natural Information Society, Theaster Gates’s Black Monks, and many more. He is also a long-time participant in Chicago’s legendary Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians. Suffice to say, his credentials are astonishing and the scope of his interests and abilities is seemingly limitless, with Yowzers representing the latest redrawing of that ever-expanding creative borderline.
Much of the music on Yowzers features his working quartet with Tommaso Moretti (drums, percussion, voice), Matthew Davis (tuba, piano, bells, voice), and Will Faber (guitar, ngoni, bells, voice). But the unlisted feature here is Gay’s own ability to summon and unleash the unique strengths of his collaborators. The quartet material leans into a vocabulary that the group has developed over the course of several years together on the road; and the repertoire delivers an arresting cocktail of pulsing and free rhythms that somehow swing alongside a gathering of melodic phrases that sweep the outer-reaches of harmony with nostalgic echoes of family songs from the living room.
“Building a language, or taking a while to build a language—it’s like every other thing,” says Gay. “These stories are passed around through melody. You write a story and you share the story with individuals, and then you allow their individuality to embellish the story and take it on in another way. That person is a whole universe. It’s about trusting these people—trusting the people you leave something with, just like people trust their kids and their grandkids to carry a thing on. To not give it all away. To keep it in this tightly-knit body and to just keep it going.”
It’s not a new concept for Gay. One uniting factor in his deep, multi-faceted discography is a never-ending commitment to taking the stories of the past and pushing them outward, filtered through a sense of self, to keep that information moving.
Information moves through Yowzers via the intuitive physicality of Gay’s creative polyrhythmic constructions as he covertly delivers familiar folk tunes and tales. “It’s the most natural thing,” says Gay. “That’s how the world is. There are overlapping rhythms all around us, and so it reminds you of the reality of the world when you hear them. It’s a loop and the loop is always changing.”
Yowzers is ripe with the fine mash of that loop’s changes and diffusions, recalling the high-minded freedom of Liberation Music Orchestra, the abstract boom-bap balladry of Georgia Anne Muldrow, the unbridled rhythms and sandpaper bellows of Bukka White, the harmolodic cartoon glory of Arthur Blythe’s Illusions, or the oft-copped but rarely distilled patterns of Naná Vasconcelos. More amalgam than pendulum swing; a fresh thought made up of old ideas, like some imaginary Sacred Heart Ensemble led by Elvin Jones and Rashid Ali. It’s all there, filtered through an improvisational approach and a lifetime of stories and secrets embodied. For a man who has inhabited and traveled these continents so extensively, it’s safe to call this work true Americana, despite what that word might mean to the average white person in the United States.
“A big part of the language this quartet has developed is spatial,” says Gay. “It’s seeing and hearing it live.” Translating that language to a studio situation is a tough task, even for a seasoned crew. “You’re dealing with a thing that is older than the industry that sells it, and if you’ve never experienced those bodies in a room there can be a disconnect.” Striving to document the magic of those live moments, to great end, Gay chose to track the quartet pieces (“the glorification of small victories,” “there, inside the morning glory,” “I am (bells),” and “cumulus”) for Yowzers live, in real time, seated with his bandmates in a small circle at Palisade Studios in Chicago.
The spectrum of the album is widened by a batch of music created via Gay’s highly successful approach to composing in-studio, augmented with contributions from his bandmates, instrumentalist Rob Frye, and a mini-choir comprising vocalists Ayanna Woods, Tramaine Parker, and Ugochi Nwaogwugwu. This straying from the quartet material throughout the course of the record acts as an expansion of detail rather than an interruption of continuity.
All together, the pacing and flow of Yowzers is proof-positive of Gay’s practiced grasp on how the album format can traverse such a breadth of atmospheres. The titular album opener “yowzers” is a simple, soulful, three-chord piano and vocal repetition nestled in the hypnotically swelling effect of the Woods/Parker/Nwaogwugwu choir. The undecorated lyrics leave ample room for a listener to comprehend references to the binding existential crises of our times. It’s a Blues that everyone in the world should feel in their bones:
Ain’t gon snow no more x4
Rain gon pour and pour x4
Fire don’t stop no more x4
“for Breezy”, a could-be New Orleans dirge, straddles the deep sigh of a heavy sadness and the sweet lift of a fond look back, echoing the most contemplative moments of Duke Ellington’s small group arrangements. Gay’s clustered synth chording sets the scene while Frye’s breathy flute and Moretti’s delicate brushwork are positioned front-and-center along with a synthetic static—the nagging question of darkness even as beauty blooms. Gay’s flugelhorn enters at the 1:35 mark, maneuvering slowly around Frye and locking the vibe into place. It’s a gorgeous and fitting tribute to an old comrade.
“John, John Henry” begins with doomy oscillations and click-clack electronic rhythm loops hovering atop a contextually disjointed swing beat from Moretti. Enter Gay and his choir, digging into a take on the dusty-yet-timeless tale of man versus machine, an update we didn’t know we needed and an entrance we didn’t know we wanted. The way the group’s vocal rhythms hit here is a classic example of the Gay conundrum: an idea that reads as challenging on paper but sounds simple to the ear and feels intuitive to the body. With spectacles underfoot and charts out the window, the listener sings along, unencumbered by know-how. It’s all in service of Gay’s ongoing exploration and expansion of folklore in his work—arguably the one concept that bridges the gap between all of the disparate elements of his oeuvre.
This bottomless bag of tricks never induces fatigue, instead allowing for breaths and bites as needed—the quick-vibe banana peel windup of “rollerskates”; the endlessly psychedelic metallic rhythm chant of the album’s centerpiece “I am (bells)”; and the triumphant free-folk shouts of “the glorification of small victories,” which is a drastic and collaborative quartet rework of a composition originally recorded for Gay’s album Grapes that serves as further evidence of his steady crew’s interpretive powers.
How, though, does Gay end a collection that covers so much ground? The sweetest sendoff is often the one that sounds like a beginning. The album closer “leave some for you”—a balladeer’s kiss as the sun comes up—pairs a deeply disintegrated series of rhythmic loops with a diddley bow shuffle, ushered by the sturdy-yet-understated swing of Moretti’s kit. Gay’s sweetly intoned low-register lilt is front and center with an affirmation delivered as an earworm. The simple melody carries it home:
You look brand new today
Not cause you need it
Just cause you want it
New
World music pioneer Adam Rudolph and his groundbreaking Go: Organic Orchestra join forces with Brooklyn Raga Massive to create monumental new album
3LP 130 gram Classic Black vinyl LP (cut and pressed by Leandro Gonzalez at Stereodisk) packaged in a full color swinging gatefold jacket with artwork by Nancy Jackson
The members of the adventurous BRM collective are deeply steeped in the traditions of Indian classical music. They refuse, however, to be restricted by it; the idea behind the collective, birthed in 2012 in a Prospect Heights bar, is to open the often rigid and hierarchical culture of the music to experimentation and cross-cultural collaboration. This collaboration marks the collective’s most ambitious effort to date in the musical movement that the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and New Yorker have recognized as a “Raga Renaissance.”
“This album feels like the culmination of everything I’ve been reaching for throughout my career,” says Rudolph, no small claim from someone who’s been a pioneering voice in jazz and world music for more than 40 years. “Through my music I want to hear the humanity of all these different musicians shine through, and with their voices bring forth something that’s never existed before.”
According to BRM guitarist David Ellenbogen, who co-produced Ragmala, the possibilities offered by Rudolph’s music scratched the very itch that led many of them into BRM’s more exploratory fold to begin with. “I always had a theory that Indian Classical, jazz, West African music and so on could have a synergistic relationship,” Ellenbogen says. “But after spending decades looking through record libraries, I found very few recordings lived up to the potential of these great traditions. I've spoken to other musicians on this album and they said the same thing when they heard these tracks: This is the music we've been searching for."
Pulse is Qur'an Shaheed's debut for Leaving Records —as a pianist, poet, and vocalist from Pasadena, based in Inglewood— she fuses formal classical training with a deep commitment to improvisation. Guided by spurts of instinctual, jazzy vocalization and lyrics that incant dreams of an exalted future, Pulse transcends genre, capturing a journey toward presence, revelation, and a liberated poetics of sound. Through this album, Shaheed offers looping reflections on transformation and acceptance, revealing the fruitful arc of her artistic growth.
Shaheed's musical journey began in a family of musicians, led by her mother, Sharon, a pianist and music school owner, and her father, Nolan Shaheed, who toured with Stevie Wonder and was Marvin Gaye’s music director. Introduced to the piano at the age of four, she trained rigorously, laying a foundation of discipline and technical skill that has now evolved into a freer form of spontaneous, genre-defying expression. Shaheed’s musical practice is an extension of her world—playful, bold, undaunted. A fluid approach to fashion—colorful, deconstructed pieces, geometric piercings, and intricate tattoos—mirrors their creative philosophy, where compositions dissolve into iridescent soundscapes.
Produced by Spencer Hartling at his Altadena studio, “Wiggle World,” Pulse reveals the synergy between Shaheed and Hartling. His tape looping and improvisational production imbue the record with a transfixing vibrancy and otherworldly glitches, showcasing a palpable collaboration that is equal parts immersive and omnivalent, with each element harmoniously intertwining to elevate the overall sound. “Spencer really helped solidify the demos that I had created. He truly added the magic. I had seen him perform a few times, and I loved his improvisation,” Shaheed shares. The album also features Maia Harper on flute and harp, adding hypnotic textures that deepen its emotional scope.
Pulse builds on the groundwork laid by her 2020 release, Process, but ventures far beyond, embodying the vulnerable evolution that Shaheed describes as “meeting myself where I was,” in reverberant explorations of longing and imagination. The album’s title lays the conceptual groundwork for an immersive aliveness echoed track after track. This record emerged from Shaheed’s desire to create fluid music that reflects the evolving self, unconstrained by convention or expectation. Beginning with late-night demo sessions, she experimented outside of digital audio workstations, using her keyboard and a Roland SP-404 sampler to craft each track. Shaheed’s ethereal vocals, shifting from dreamlike whispers to bold intensity, blend among jagged keys and neo-soul elucidations. “Improvising let me be free of expectation,” Shaheed reflects. “I wanted to make something that wasn’t bound by themes.”
Lyrically, Pulse traces the limits of felt presence and weaves threads of sempiternal connection, using poetic reflections written in Shaheed’s phone's notes app. Each track extends an invitation to both meditate and move. Tracks like “Dream” resonate with premonition and discernment: “I still dream. You can’t take away the things that I know. In my mind I know, I know.” Forging an effortless path for listeners to enter a portal of psychic reconfiguration and reflection. “I wanted each track to feel like a different window into my mind,” she says. Diaristic fragments and collaged production cues offer a window beyond Shaheed’s mind, calling into a transformative world. In “Doo Doo Doo,” listeners are invited to imagine an expanded existence through an unflinching manifesto: “I’m not here to help you. I’m not here to pull you up (no no no). I’m not here for you. I’m here for me. Enough for the jobs that won’t even pay me.” Simultaneously in devotion to self and critique of labor exploitation, Shaheed connects varied pieces—verse by verse—to a coherent future vision where liberation starts now.
Shaheed draws inspiration from movement, breath, and community: “Finding my flow—that’s when inspiration comes.” The record’s eleven tracks illuminate Shaheed’s resolve for wide-ranging, innovative musical techniques that merge intuitive composition with methodical devotion. Pulse is a spirited, unflinching approach to a new sound from Shaheed, inviting listeners into a field of lucid vision and resonance, capturing Shaheed’s voice in its most liberated form.