MUSIC

A year and a half after the release of her already acclaimed album Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua, the young and award-winning exponent of the Brazilian music scene releases a double single that ends the album cycle with a flourish. Winner of the São Paulo Association of Art Critics Award for album of the year in Brazil and nominated for a Latin Grammy for “best rock album in Portuguese”; in the US, it received excellent critical and public acclaim, and her show toured 11 countries on three continents, with over 40 sold-out shows. After an intense year of work, Ana returns to the studio to record the 2 songs that were included in the show's repertoire -- A Sua Diversão, by Ana and Tuca Monteiro; and Não Tem Nada Não, by Marcos Valle, Eumir Deodato and João Donato. The single will be released on 7” vinyl by the labels RISCO, MR Bongo and Psychic Hotline in July 2025. “The first time I played Não Tem Nada Não was in a solo show, and I immediately felt that the song should be included in the Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua show. For the show of my last album, I decided to reduce the band a bit, remove the horns, so that it could be more flexible and be able to tour more places with it. First, it was a logistical issue. I wanted the new show to be audible… the bass drum, the snare and the hi-hat, the individual pieces and all the instruments. They had to have a lot of emphasis, I wanted everything to be audible. And I felt that in the shows with the big band, something always didn’t come through, it went unnoticed. So I thought of a leaner show so that, sonically, everything would have emphasis. So, these phonograms come as a continuation of Me Chama De Gato live, of the meeting with the band. I wanted to provoke this encounter with the band in a phonographic way. At the same time, it is a more subtle, more neutral phonogram than my other works. It almost fulfills the function of a live performance, the representation of a live performance, of an arrangement for the band. “A Sua Diversão, on the other hand, is an unreleased song, written in partnership with Tuca Monteiro, which I had been playing at some Me Chama De Gato shows… However, since it was an unreleased song, I didn’t see much point in releasing it alone, and at the same time, I didn’t know where to fit it. So, when I started considering recording Não Tem Nada Não, which is a song by my idols… I have this in my career, I don’t re-record idols, I don’t consider myself an interpreter, I’m a composer… So when I decided to record Não Tem Nada Não, I was racking my brains to make it natural in my discography, as someone who is a composer, who is a music producer. So A Sua Diversão came in perfectly, as a counterpoint, as a fitting, in a great farewell to Me Chama De Gato… “These are definitely songs that don’t point the way, but rather close a cycle. They reflect research based on live performances, on the MCGQESS shows, which will be celebrating their farewell in Brazil this year. The two tracks occupy a similar place in my discography to Mama Planta Baby and Mulher Homem Bicho, but different because without the pandemic factor, without the home studio, now recorded live, with a band.”

Market East finally shares their most important statement to the world in the form of their debut LP, French Street. The group, composed of Kurt Cain on vocals, Vincent John on vocals, bass, guitar and keys, and Maxwell Perla on vocals, drums and percussion, deliver their signature celestial three part harmonies over arrangements that have never sounded so rich and compelling.

French Street is extremely soulful and the vocals are lush, like if the Zombies recorded at Muscle Shoals. The lyrics are poetic and nostalgic, as the group wrote songs about their bygone “golden” years. Back then, the boys didn’t have much besides each other and their shared love of music. Vocalist Kurt Cain lived in a small rowhome in North Philadelphia on a nearly deserted alley named French Street. It was here that Cain, John, and Perla came together every week to escape reality and get high off sharing music. They developed a deep appreciation for all things 60s and 70s, from Simon & Garfunkel to the Moments, and everything in between.

All these years later, and Market East has created a classic record of their own. From the baroque pop of the title track and the roaring soul of “Roses,” to the Latin flavors of “Echoes of My Heart” and the orchestral flares of “Everyday, Springtime,” Market East shows their impressive range. Recorded to analog tape in Philadelphia, the record was produced by the band and Eraserhood Sound. Grab your copy of this timeless classic today.

“No second-guessing, no overthinking. The way I want to live my life is by doing the things that are important to me, and I think everyone should live that way,” says Mei Semones of her strengthened self-assurance. Through continuously honing in on her signature fusion of indie rock, bossa nova, jazz and chamber pop in a way that highlights her technical prowess on guitar, the 24-year-old Brooklyn-based songwriter and guitarist is quickly establishing herself as an innovative musical force. Since the release of her acclaimed 2024 Kabutomushi EP, a series of lushly orchestrated reflections on love in its many stages, Mei has gone on to tour extensively across the US, cultivate a dedicated following, and write and record her highly anticipated debut album, Animaru. Inspired by the Japanese pronunciation of the word “animal” in Japanese, Animaru is the embodiment of Mei’s deeper trust in her instincts – a collection of musically impressive tracks that see Mei sounding more adventurous, more vulnerable and more confident than ever before.

Mei’s newfound assertiveness comes in part from her experiences in the past year, as 2024 was a transformative year for the Mei Semones band. They shared bills with the likes of Liana Flores, Elephant Gym and Kara Jackson, among others, and Mei transitioned to doing music full-time. Amidst the frequent touring, Mei and her five-piece band recorded the album in the summer of 2024 at Ashlawn Recording Company, a farm studio in Connecticut operated by their friend Charles Dahlke. To these sessions, she brought a batch of tracks that, not unlike Kabutomushi, are sophisticated declarations of non-romantic love: love of life (“Dumb Feeling”), love of family (“Zarigani”), love of music and her guitar (“Tora Moyo”). Animaru exemplifies Mei’s enchantingly wide range as a songwriter and musician, including some of the most challenging and most straightforward songs Mei has ever written.

Though her music might inherently evoke feelings of romance and softness, the crux of the album lies in Mei and her band’s skillful balance of tension and release. Often within individual tracks, there will be moments of pared-back acoustic guitar adorned by Mei’s infectious vocalizations that, in a moment’s notice, transform into orchestral swells of sweeping strings and complex guitar rhythms. Album opener “Dumb Feeling” is a prime example, a bossa/samba blend complete with indie rock sensibilities in the choruses as Mei details her contentment with her life in New York City. Mei actively seeks out musical challenges throughout Animaru, like on “I can do what I want,” the album’s most technically ambitious track. But she still manages to make the quickly cascading guitar harmonics and odd meters sound like a breeze to play, her breathy, lilting voice cutting through the track’s energetic dynamics. It epitomizes the album as a whole – she sings of doing things her own way, on her own terms, in hopes of inspiring others to make the same active switch in their own lives.

The simpler moments on Animaru are equally as captivating as when Mei is shredding on guitar or her bandmates are carrying out an intricate arrangement. “Donguri,” a stripped-down jazz duo performance between acoustic guitar and upright bass, is the simplest song Mei has ever written, brought to life by Mei sweetly chronicling (mostly in Japanese) what she imagines life would be like as a woodland creature living in the forest. The album’s penultimate track also encompasses themes relating to the titular “animaru.” Translating to “crayfish,” the bright, effervescent “Zarigani” is a nostalgic expression of love for her twin sister, with Mei singing “We’ll always have each other / I love you like my guitar / I love you like no other.” Family is one of the primary loves of Mei’s life, with her mom, Seiko Semones, making all of her album and single artwork. Despite Animaru being a statement of Mei’s autonomy and confidence at this point in her life, it's the various loves that she surrounds herself with – her family, her friends, her band, her music – that empower her to do things her own way. 

By popular demand…we had to press these two standouts from Marco Benevento’s new Glera album on 7 inch.The A side “Houdini” is a kick-in-the-door, dancefloor-filler that pushes genre boundaries while showcasing both his playing prowess and production chops. As the title suggests, there’s real magic here. The whistle blows and the game begins - punchy drums pull you in, and when the earworm piano phrase hits, it’s party time. The energy only builds from there, making this a sure shot for DJs around the globe.The B side “Miss Neptune” is a reggae inspired number featuring Elizabeth Steiner on harp. Pure mood music, this one lays you way back. Co-produced by the L.O.T.L.E. himself, Nick Movshon who plays drums and bass while Marco and Elizabeth trade off gorgeous riffs. An absolutely gorgeous tune sure to find an audience in everyone and become a staple in proper Reggae circles.

Thee Marloes, by way of Surabaya, Indonesia are Natassya Sianturi on vocals, Sinatrya Dharaka on guitar, and Tommy Satwick on drums. Their unique sound mixes elements of their local culture and music with influences of Soul, Jazz, and Pop.

Lady Wray makes her highly anticipated return with Cover Girl, her third album on Big Crown Records. The album opener “My Best Step” says it all, “my next step is my best step”, and indeed she is taking her artistry to a new high and making the best music of her life. The celebratory Cover Girl takes listeners on a free-spirited joyride glittered with ‘60s and '70s-inspired soul and disco, ‘90s hip-hop and R&B, and perhaps the most defining element, gospel. Following the healing journey that was 2022’s Piece of Me, Nicole has performed on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, NPR’s Tiny Desk, and toured the world. After this period of growth, Lady Wray is now ready to let her hair down and embrace all of what life has to offer. Reunited with producer Leon Michels (Norah Jones / Clairo / El Michels Affair) for the record, the outcome is effortless and undeniable, a reflection of their longtime collaboration that extends over a decade.

“I've gravitated more towards love and self-care with this album. Piece of Me was realizing that I was going to be a mother, and all those feelings were on my heart,” Lady Wray says. “Now I'm able to sit back and be a real boss. I got my career, my motherhood, and my marriage by the horns. I've grown into this more self-aware and beautiful flower for Cover Girl.” With an almighty voice, soul-stirring lyrics, and a magnetic personality, the singer-songwriter reflects her appreciation for her family, her faith, and her renewed love for herself—all of which drive her new record.

Lead single “You’re Gonna Win” is a report to the dance floor, feel good banger. Cole lets loose while naming and claiming her power “I do not care who came before me, after me there will be none” as she likens her company to winning the lottery. The Fabulous Rainbow Singers choir joins on the chorus taking the whole affair to church and putting it next to the finest gospel-disco records ever pressed. “Be a Witness” is a funky, mid-tempo powerhouse that would make Prince proud. Nicole finds the perfect groove over punchy drum machines and infectious synthesizers, singing about a love destined to happen, and spreading the good vibes to everyone in earshot. Cover Girl’s title track is one of the album’s most vulnerable moments. Lady Wray delivers a show-stopping performance over the stripped down track as she details her journey to finding herself again: “I lost myself trying to please someone else / I want to be me again.” The title stems from a childhood nickname she earned for her consistently manicured style. Lady Wray explains. “As I grew up and got into the music business, I lost that happy part of me. I see that happiness in my daughter, who’s just beautiful, talented, and smart. ‘Cover Girl’ is me going back to that little girl. It’s about getting back to loving yourself and healing.” Similarly on “Where Could I Be,” she reclaims the happiness and sense of identity that she lost focus of through life’s struggles. Nicole gushes about her love and respect for her marriage on “Best For Us” & “Hard Times”, both acknowledging the imperfection and referencing the strength and resilience of true love. She sings to her daughter on “Higher,” teaching her how to love and be loved, encouraging her to be confident and persistent.

Lady Wray was born to sing, sharing her soul and her life with us through her music. She has amassed a diehard worldwide fanbase with her relatable messages and incomparable voice. Whether singing of her struggles or strengths, there’s a comfort that comes from the way she makes us know we are not alone in any of it. Nicole Wray is inspiring and uplifting. Having been through a lot, she’s taken all of it and made herself a better person and a better artist.

“You need to rule your own world. Don't let anybody get in your way. You rock with your dreams until the wheels fall off,” Lady Wray says. “That's what I've been doing with my career since 1998. I know who I am and what I bring to the table. It's been a heck of a journey, and I feel so happy to be making the best music of my life.”

Presenting our second look at the music of Roger Doyle and Operating Theatre, a little known proto synth-pop act and experimental theatre group that he led, what you have here is a remastered and repackaged collection of two very different sides of this project. In reverse chronological order the second disc contains music from the United Dairies release of 1979 – ‘Rapid Eye Movements’. Experimental tape work heavily influenced by the French school of music concretists and recorded at various points during the 70s in Finland, Holland and Ireland, although it is most certainly a Roger Doyle solo record the label ran by Nurses With Wounds John Fothergill decided to release it under the group name for reasons now lost to the fog of time. After this a volte-face towards a more accessible sound, coming via his friendship with future Hollywood actress Olwen Fouéré and her connection to the theatre. It also featured the vocals of a young Spanish immigrant Elena López- bucking the 80’s trend by moving to, rather than, from Dublin. With Fouéré adding the theatrical element to the group (an almost essential part of any early 80s synth act) alongside pulsing synths, brass, a vocoder and the electro acoustic production talents of Doyle himself, it was the first time a Fairlight sampler was used in an Irish studio setting and gives a prescient but alternative take on the new wave sound that came to dominate the charts soon after. Doyle’s work on the newly released Fairlight sampler had brought him to the attention of U2’s Bono who had seen a feature about his sampling experimentations and reached out to him for piano lessons. This led to a deal on the bands embryonic Mother records for what Doyle calls his first “popular song” - Queen of No Heart - which alongside “Spring is Coming” made up the backbone of the EP which was released some years later (1986) on the Mother Records label. Established by U2 in 1984 and initially intended to launch Irish bands, many of the acts – including this one – were subsequently unhappy about the label’s haphazard approach to releases and lack of promotion. The record was released as a die cut 7 inch with the two main tracks and a 12 inch EP with additional tracks – ‘Part of My Make-Up’ / ‘Atlantean’ / ‘Satanasa’. The Mother experience was for Doyle and the rest of the group a frustrating one with no promotional plan and no tour. After that Operating Theatre as a quasi pop project ‘just kind of fizzled out’ says Doyle. Doyle, the musical maverick at the heart of the act, continues to produce to this day and has released 30 albums. A frequent collaborator we round out the record with a remix from another Irish outsider - Morgan Buckley of the Wino Boys.

maya ongaku has always been searching for what exists just beyond the edge of perception. Since forming in the seaside towns surrounding Enoshima, the trio has followed a path guided less by intention than intuition, allowing songs, ideas, and experiences to emerge through a process they describe as 自然発生 (shizen hassei), spontaneous occurrence. Nothing Space Music is the deepest expression of that philosophy to date. Written in the aftermath of several years of international touring, the album emerged from a growing desire to reconnect with silence. As stages became larger and the world around them moved faster, the band found themselves drawn toward the quieter spaces beneath it all. What began as a reflection on stillness & silence eventually expanded into the idea of "Nothing Space". To realise the album, maya ongaku created an entirely new environment for themselves. Near a seaside shrine in their hometown, the trio transformed a large soundproof building into Nothing Space Studio, a space built specifically around the needs of this record. Nothing Space Music: a meditation on presence, perception, and the possibility of rediscovering the world through attentive listening.

On Cooked, Oren Ambarchi folds his all‑star studio jam aesthetic into something gloriously unhinged. Two side‑long epics twist piano ripples, synthetic “voices,” mutant trumpet tones, electric Miles haze and digital pyrotechnics into a foot‑tapping, brain‑scrambling, joyously cuckoo ride that still feels meticulously shaped. Tip! Tip! Tip! Cooked extends Oren Ambarchi’s recent run of large‑scale studio constructions, but this time he lets his most irreverent impulses sit right at the center of the frame. Where 2022’s Shebang revealed how far his trance‑logic grooves could stretch, this new album comes “a la – yet so far from” that predecessor, nudging the template into stranger, more cartoonish territory without sacrificing the care that underpins his work. The record is built as two side‑long pieces, each a little ecosystem where a rotating cast of international collaborators makes the foot keep tapping even as the ear and brain struggle to process what’s just happened. Long‑time listeners will recognize the tension at play here. Beneath Ambarchi’s triple‑digit discography of hypnotic minimalism, there has always been a vein of joyously wayward exploration: riffs that arrive out of nowhere, synthetic mischief, sudden genre swerves. Cooked is a landmark because it allows that “gloriously cuckoo sensibility” to flood into one of his most high‑profile solo statements. Surrounding himself with players from Australia, Germany, Japan and Sweden – among them Joe Talia, Johan Berthling, Will Guthrie, Eiko Ishibashi, Jim O’Rourke, Michiko Ogawa, Marcus Pal, Fredrik Rasten, James Rushford, Andreas Werliin and Konrad Sprenger – Ambarchi layers, edits and recombines performances in a way that recalls Edgar Froese’s spiraling synth rock, Steve Hillage’s cosmic guitar flights, and the studio‑obsessed pop alchemy of Godley & Crème, yet never feels like pastiche. “Hidden Tableau,” the opening side, sets the tone. It begins disarmingly with Eiko Ishibashi’s gentle piano ripples, then immediately swerves with the entrance of a groaning synthetic “voice” – a ghost in the machine conjured and steered by Konrad Sprenger, also at the production helm here as he was on Shebang. For the first half of the piece, this moaning, morphing presence becomes an unlikely soloist, a concerto for artificial throat and delicate backdrop of piano, organ‑like washes and Ambarchi’s signature shimmering Leslie‑soaked guitar. As Joe Talia’s drums slip in with a beautifully flexible swing, harmonies puff into woozy clouds, and the synthetic voice stretches toward something like a mutant trumpet, blurring instrumental identities. Then comes the left turn: intricate guitar patterns and filigreed synthetic arpeggios overtake the scene, locking into a kind of motoric, nimble drive that feels both inevitable and inexplicable. Somewhere in this lattice might be Jim O’Rourke on synth – or it might be Ambarchi’s endlessly re‑routed guitar, as his recent work has taught us that almost any sound could be traced back to his instrument. The piece never quite settles, instead gliding through phases that feel like snapshots from different histories of experimental rock and electronic music, stitched together by an internal logic that’s more dreamlike than schematic. The second side, “Sleight of Hand,” foregrounds Ambarchi’s Swedish comrades, especially Johan Berthling on double bass and Andreas Werliin on drums. It opens with glistening layers of electric 12‑string guitar, immediately invoking electric Miles Davis touchstones – the weightless yet charged atmosphere of “Feio,” or the slow, suspended reimagining of David Crosby’s “Guinnevere.” Berthling’s sparse, punctuating bass lines become anchor points in an almost weightless field of detail, while Michiko Ogawa’s sho and James Rushford’s array of acoustic keyboards thread flickers of timbre and harmony through the haze. The music feels like hovering above a shifting landscape: nothing quite locks, yet everything relates. Midway through, the whole construct is abruptly overwhelmed by a knotty, hyper‑complex “solo” from Marcus Pal on digital synthesis – a blistering, pointillist eruption that seems to teleport the record into an alternate timeline where Allan Holdsworth traded his SynthAxe for Xenakis’s UPIC system. Rhythmic and harmonic shapes flash past too quickly to grasp, yet their density adds a new, vertiginous layer to Ambarchi’s world. As Will Guthrie’s drums and percussion build around it, the music reaches a peak of sizzling intensity, then veers sideways into a gently surreal coda: Zawinul‑esque chords glimmer, Fredrik Rasten’s guitar drifts over a sprightly rhythm box, and the uncanny, bird‑like whistling of Isak Hedtjärn floats above, turning the closing minutes into a sunlit, slightly absurd stew.

On Cooked, Oren Ambarchi folds his all‑star studio jam aesthetic into something gloriously unhinged. Two side‑long epics twist piano ripples, synthetic “voices,” mutant trumpet tones, electric Miles haze and digital pyrotechnics into a foot‑tapping, brain‑scrambling, joyously cuckoo ride that still feels meticulously shaped. Tip! Tip! Tip! Cooked extends Oren Ambarchi’s recent run of large‑scale studio constructions, but this time he lets his most irreverent impulses sit right at the center of the frame. Where 2022’s Shebang revealed how far his trance‑logic grooves could stretch, this new album comes “a la – yet so far from” that predecessor, nudging the template into stranger, more cartoonish territory without sacrificing the care that underpins his work. The record is built as two side‑long pieces, each a little ecosystem where a rotating cast of international collaborators makes the foot keep tapping even as the ear and brain struggle to process what’s just happened. Long‑time listeners will recognize the tension at play here. Beneath Ambarchi’s triple‑digit discography of hypnotic minimalism, there has always been a vein of joyously wayward exploration: riffs that arrive out of nowhere, synthetic mischief, sudden genre swerves. Cooked is a landmark because it allows that “gloriously cuckoo sensibility” to flood into one of his most high‑profile solo statements. Surrounding himself with players from Australia, Germany, Japan and Sweden – among them Joe Talia, Johan Berthling, Will Guthrie, Eiko Ishibashi, Jim O’Rourke, Michiko Ogawa, Marcus Pal, Fredrik Rasten, James Rushford, Andreas Werliin and Konrad Sprenger – Ambarchi layers, edits and recombines performances in a way that recalls Edgar Froese’s spiraling synth rock, Steve Hillage’s cosmic guitar flights, and the studio‑obsessed pop alchemy of Godley & Crème, yet never feels like pastiche. “Hidden Tableau,” the opening side, sets the tone. It begins disarmingly with Eiko Ishibashi’s gentle piano ripples, then immediately swerves with the entrance of a groaning synthetic “voice” – a ghost in the machine conjured and steered by Konrad Sprenger, also at the production helm here as he was on Shebang. For the first half of the piece, this moaning, morphing presence becomes an unlikely soloist, a concerto for artificial throat and delicate backdrop of piano, organ‑like washes and Ambarchi’s signature shimmering Leslie‑soaked guitar. As Joe Talia’s drums slip in with a beautifully flexible swing, harmonies puff into woozy clouds, and the synthetic voice stretches toward something like a mutant trumpet, blurring instrumental identities. Then comes the left turn: intricate guitar patterns and filigreed synthetic arpeggios overtake the scene, locking into a kind of motoric, nimble drive that feels both inevitable and inexplicable. Somewhere in this lattice might be Jim O’Rourke on synth – or it might be Ambarchi’s endlessly re‑routed guitar, as his recent work has taught us that almost any sound could be traced back to his instrument. The piece never quite settles, instead gliding through phases that feel like snapshots from different histories of experimental rock and electronic music, stitched together by an internal logic that’s more dreamlike than schematic. The second side, “Sleight of Hand,” foregrounds Ambarchi’s Swedish comrades, especially Johan Berthling on double bass and Andreas Werliin on drums. It opens with glistening layers of electric 12‑string guitar, immediately invoking electric Miles Davis touchstones – the weightless yet charged atmosphere of “Feio,” or the slow, suspended reimagining of David Crosby’s “Guinnevere.” Berthling’s sparse, punctuating bass lines become anchor points in an almost weightless field of detail, while Michiko Ogawa’s sho and James Rushford’s array of acoustic keyboards thread flickers of timbre and harmony through the haze. The music feels like hovering above a shifting landscape: nothing quite locks, yet everything relates. Midway through, the whole construct is abruptly overwhelmed by a knotty, hyper‑complex “solo” from Marcus Pal on digital synthesis – a blistering, pointillist eruption that seems to teleport the record into an alternate timeline where Allan Holdsworth traded his SynthAxe for Xenakis’s UPIC system. Rhythmic and harmonic shapes flash past too quickly to grasp, yet their density adds a new, vertiginous layer to Ambarchi’s world. As Will Guthrie’s drums and percussion build around it, the music reaches a peak of sizzling intensity, then veers sideways into a gently surreal coda: Zawinul‑esque chords glimmer, Fredrik Rasten’s guitar drifts over a sprightly rhythm box, and the uncanny, bird‑like whistling of Isak Hedtjärn floats above, turning the closing minutes into a sunlit, slightly absurd stew.

originally released 1999. "Well, never mind--as long as people love it, here's another few sides of long-ago and far-away O'Rourke back on vinyl for the first time since way back in the mid-aughties. It's the Halfway to a Threeway 12" EP back to set turntables a-spinnin'! Fans of Eureka and Insignificance (not to mention Jim's tomfoolery as part of the Loose Fur band) will appreciate the analog pressing of these four slices of the pop music party-pooper combination of folk, classic rock, smooth jazz and a bit of the old avant-garde to help communicate the twisted ways of the misanthrope that made Jim such a perennial in the fickle world of record sales. A quick listen to the title track will hip you to our meaning: Halfway to a Threeway exposes our sweet soul-crusher as a lustful man-beast on the make. The song is a straight folk number--straight, that is, until you listen through the haze of those six-string overtones and chirpy harmony vocals to hear the true perversity of O'Rourke's fantasies. The decadence of stardom seems to have turned Jim into not only a sex freak, but also a man who loves women of all persuasions--particular the crippled and brain-dead kind! Don't listen to this song alone--at least, not with the drapes open."

The first vocal album released in 1999. Jim is doing for himself what he's more than generously done for other so-called musical talents. Everybody wants a little pop in their lives and the O'Rourke is no exception. There is no way to listen to Eureka without hearing the eccentricity, the progressive musical textures, the utter lack of anything like pop music, but at the same time it's magnificent in scale, pleasant to listen to, catchy and even reminiscent of other records you might actually have heard on The Casey Casem Show. If Bad Timing was regarded as a crossroads of O'Rourkian interests, Eureka is a six-lane clover-leaf junction of singer-songwriter traditions, production styles of the 70s, confusion and contradiction as well as the riveting sound of the artist putting all his cards on the table.

A selection of artists -- ranging from big names to obscure and mysterious gems -- from the '60s and '70s, the golden years of modern Persian music. A trip to a time when western sounds mixed with traditional Iranian music to create a new, unique and magical sound, full of soul, personality and emotion. 13 mind-blowing tracks of pure, unaltered, Persian bliss. Includes notes on the artists. Featuring Mehrpouya, Bijan, The Rebels, The Golden Ring, Tak Khal Ha, The Littles, Zangoleah, Fereshteh, Shahram Shabpareh, Googoosh, Kourosh Yaghmaei, Betti, and Mahasti.

Here we have a very special reissue, a landmark in the history of Spanish pop music: "La chica de plexiglas" and "La vision," the first two singles by El Aviador Dro y sus Obreros Especializados (released in 1980 and 1981), together with two tracks rescued from a lost 1980 recording session that were never released as a single. The collection is presented exactly as it was originally compiled on a 1983 mini-LP. To this day, this remains the most advanced techno-punk ever made in Spain. Think a Spanish version of Kraftwerk meets Devo meets The Residents. Futuristic electronic music created back when computers were the size of an entire room. Out of print since 1985, we're delighted to bring this groundbreaking gem of early-'80s Spanish pop back into circulation in collaboration with Discos Banana. Tracklisting>> Side A 1. La Chica De Plexiglas 2.Vano Temporal 3. Gestalt Side B 1.La Vision 2. Hal 9000 3. Laser

Side A
1. 自分のことだけ考えよう (Remixed by Cornelius)
2. Flow (Remixed by YANN TOMITA  ”A BRAND NEW CADILLAC AND ETERNAL LIFE MIX”)

First released in 1971, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki is a delirious cult album that sounds as mischievous and unclassifiable now as it did then. Conceived not as a band but as a studio-born fantasy, YAMASUKI created a pan-cultural pop opera that gleefully ignored genre boundaries and common sense. Produced by Jean Kluger and written with Daniel Vangarde, the album sits at a surreal crossroads of psychedelic pop, funk, samba and bubblegum melodies. Phonetic pseudo-Japanese chants, performed by a children’s choir, collide with ritualistic cries from a Japanese judo grandmaster, turning each track into a playful piece of sonic theatre. What began as a single quickly expanded into a fully realised concept, one whose influence has travelled far beyond novelty. Elements of Yamasuki have resurfaced through reinterpretations, samples and pop mutations across decades, from underground soul and hip hop to mainstream chart pop and television soundtracks. Revisited today, Le Monde Fabuleux des Yamasuki remains a reminder that pop can be strange, joyful and inventive without explanation. It is music that laughs at rules, dances around definitions and proves that imagination never dates.

Lady Wray makes her highly anticipated return with Cover Girl, her third album on Big Crown Records. The album opener “My Best Step” says it all, “my next step is my best step”, and indeed she is taking her artistry to a new high and making the best music of her life. The celebratory Cover Girl takes listeners on a free-spirited joyride glittered with ‘60s and '70s-inspired soul and disco, ‘90s hip-hop and R&B, and perhaps the most defining element, gospel. Following the healing journey that was 2022’s Piece of Me, Nicole has performed on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, NPR’s Tiny Desk, and toured the world. After this period of growth, Lady Wray is now ready to let her hair down and embrace all of what life has to offer. Reunited with producer Leon Michels (Norah Jones / Clairo / El Michels Affair) for the record, the outcome is effortless and undeniable, a reflection of their longtime collaboration that extends over a decade.

“I've gravitated more towards love and self-care with this album. Piece of Me was realizing that I was going to be a mother, and all those feelings were on my heart,” Lady Wray says. “Now I'm able to sit back and be a real boss. I got my career, my motherhood, and my marriage by the horns. I've grown into this more self-aware and beautiful flower for Cover Girl.” With an almighty voice, soul-stirring lyrics, and a magnetic personality, the singer-songwriter reflects her appreciation for her family, her faith, and her renewed love for herself—all of which drive her new record.

Lead single “You’re Gonna Win” is a report to the dance floor, feel good banger. Cole lets loose while naming and claiming her power “I do not care who came before me, after me there will be none” as she likens her company to winning the lottery. The Fabulous Rainbow Singers choir joins on the chorus taking the whole affair to church and putting it next to the finest gospel-disco records ever pressed. “Be a Witness” is a funky, mid-tempo powerhouse that would make Prince proud. Nicole finds the perfect groove over punchy drum machines and infectious synthesizers, singing about a love destined to happen, and spreading the good vibes to everyone in earshot. Cover Girl’s title track is one of the album’s most vulnerable moments. Lady Wray delivers a show-stopping performance over the stripped down track as she details her journey to finding herself again: “I lost myself trying to please someone else / I want to be me again.” The title stems from a childhood nickname she earned for her consistently manicured style. Lady Wray explains. “As I grew up and got into the music business, I lost that happy part of me. I see that happiness in my daughter, who’s just beautiful, talented, and smart. ‘Cover Girl’ is me going back to that little girl. It’s about getting back to loving yourself and healing.” Similarly on “Where Could I Be,” she reclaims the happiness and sense of identity that she lost focus of through life’s struggles. Nicole gushes about her love and respect for her marriage on “Best For Us” & “Hard Times”, both acknowledging the imperfection and referencing the strength and resilience of true love. She sings to her daughter on “Higher,” teaching her how to love and be loved, encouraging her to be confident and persistent.

Lady Wray was born to sing, sharing her soul and her life with us through her music. She has amassed a diehard worldwide fanbase with her relatable messages and incomparable voice. Whether singing of her struggles or strengths, there’s a comfort that comes from the way she makes us know we are not alone in any of it. Nicole Wray is inspiring and uplifting. Having been through a lot, she’s taken all of it and made herself a better person and a better artist.

“You need to rule your own world. Don't let anybody get in your way. You rock with your dreams until the wheels fall off,” Lady Wray says. “That's what I've been doing with my career since 1998. I know who I am and what I bring to the table. It's been a heck of a journey, and I feel so happy to be making the best music of my life.”

“Great Doubt” is the third full length LP by Danish composer Astrid Sonne. Throughout her acclaimed discography, Astrid Sonne has been carefully crafting different moods through electronic and acoustic instrumental endeavours. On “Great Doubt” this skill is refined, now with the distinct addition of the composer's own vocal in front. The tone of each track is unmistakably Sonne’s, structured around contrasts through an impeccable sense of timing. Lyrics on the album are sparse, merely highlighting different scenes or emotional states of being, leaving the music to fill in the blanks. Yet they also form a pattern of ambiguity, consolidated through the album title, searching for answers through looking at how and what you are asking, questions for the world, questions of love. The viola, a trusted companion since Astrid Sonne’s youth, appears effortlessly throughout the album, fully integrated into the sonic universe; through a pizzicato driven arrangement in the poignant track “Almost” or along with booms and claps in mutated cinematic stabs during “Give my all”, paraphrasing Mariah Carey's 1997 ballad. Yet the string section also gives way to explorations of woodwinds, counterbalancing the bowed movements with digital brass and airy flutes. Finally, beats and detuned piano are fresh additions to the soundscape, cementing how Sonne’s practice is always evolving into new territories.

Even after years of living in the same area, there can be mind-bending moments of revelation about its layout. An attempt to avoid traffic, or a time-killing meander on a weekend morning gives way to a mix of novelty and confusion as a new pocket of the district materializes like a dream about hidden rooms in a childhood home. Suddenly a recognizable cross street appears, and for a few seconds it’s hard to reconcile with all the new ground that was just covered. Just around the corner the old landmarks take shape, and logic returns. Despite spending the last several minutes in a seemingly unfamiliar place, perhaps you barely left your own neighborhood, if at all.
This kind of pathfinding lies behind the name Way Through, a collaborative album between Toronto musicians Chris Cummings, Joseph Shabason, and Thom Gill under the moniker Cici Arthur. Seeking to create large-scale setpieces to showcase Cummings’ vocals and writing, producer-instrumentalists Shabason and Gill have parked their brand of smartly subverted adult contemporary aesthetics near the mid-century slink of Antonio Carlos Jobim, or the romantic opulence of Frank Sinatra. Way Through takes the communal spirit of Shabason’s previous ventures to panoramic heights, featuring everyone from drummer Phil Melanson (Sam Gendel, Sam Amidon, Andy Shauff) and frequent collaborator Nicholas Krgovich, to famed arranger and violinist Owen Pallet who helms an honest-to-God thirty-piece orchestra for the affair. Perhaps most importantly, vocalist Dorothea Pass winds glassy harmonies through all the moving parts, emulsifying the core trio’s take on a heyday Capitol Records session. The result is akin to so much music in Joseph Shabason’s orbit in that it spins around a centerpoint of humanness and vulnerability, placing even its most colossal elements comfortingly within arm’s reach.
The seeds of the album were sowed in 2020 when Chris Cummings lost his job of twenty years amid the COVID shockwaves. In his early fifties with his Plan A having lapsed, Chris found himself diving into full-time music creation for the first time in his life. The leap of faith inspired his collaborators, galvanizing them to thoughtfully tailor arrangements just for him. “I wanted to make a really big sounding record for Chris, to really figure out a way to call in favors and make this album as grand as I possibly could,” Shabason recalls of Way Through’s Creed Taylor ethos. “I really wanted Chris to sing to fully mixed songs so that it was in the spirit of playing with a full band with all the energy of hearing an orchestra swell behind him with horns blaring,” he continues, “and I think this is the grandest approach to making a record that I have ever embarked on.”
The resulting outsize backdrop sits in poetic contrast to Cummings’ comparatively discreet delivery and intimate lyricism. Steering the Shabason-Gill cruise liner with delicate intonation and quiet introspection, Cummings paints a picture of city lights gleaming in rain puddles, mapping subtle emotional territories within the urban gloom while resigning in a kind of joyous ennui. “If I could be all that once looked so great and grand, I would have died for an occasion to rise to,” he sings through the horn section of ‘Cartwheels for Coins’, “but it’s a gray sky, nothing to say, mixed emotions always get in the way”. Lines like these epitomize Way Through; when the bandstand empties out and the singer finds himself alone on a darkened soundstage, the emotional complexities of life still lie waiting to be confronted. Cummings lends a literary counterweight to Shabason and Gill’s sonic splendor, and in doing so spotlights the inherent tension between pragmatism and ambition. As a film major who was raised by community theater actors before taking up music as his main creative outlet, it’s evident that Cummings has grappled with this polarity in his own life (not to mention the perfect sense this makes out of Way Through’s filmic overtones).
Punctuating the cinematic heft, the decidedly uptempo midpoint ‘Damaged Goods’ bounces and strolls around Dorothea Pass’s doo-wop harmonies giving affirmation to anyone coming out of a troubled relationship, while the successive piece ‘Prior Times’ addresses those very relationships head-on. “Honestly, I was-- and am still-- very affected by romantic relationships I had before I met my wife,” Chris admits, explaining that the track “tells about a time when I was caught in an unhappy situation, looking back on happier times, and being hit with the painful realization that time doesn't go backwards.” With its understated Samba lilt, the song lands Cici Arthur closest to their aforementioned Jobim/Gilberto target and serves as the stylistic centerpiece. The pensive and movielike ‘No Fight Or Flight (So Much Tenderness)’ brings the album to its finale over one of Owen Pallet’s verdant string arrangements, marking one of the fullest realizations of Joseph Shabason and Thom Gill’s production aspirations-- and likely reaching far beyond what Cummings ever imagined when his life completely changed a few long years ago.
Back in 2020, newly careerless and grasping at an uncertain future in a world of uncertain futures, Chris found himself taking exploratory bike trips through nearby suburban areas he’d never been to before. His attempts to avoid the bustle of major roads would lead either to dead ends or completely new ways of seeing the geography of a city he’d lived in for decades, mirroring the joy and heartbreak of life’s circuitous path. “What good are dead ends when I’m looking through a way through,” he repeats on the album’s title track over the crest of a weary and sweet brass section. “When the miracle you’d hoped for never comes it’s hard to take, but it’s your fault for hoping.” For all of Way Through’s orchestral technicolor wonder, Cummings delivers refreshingly honest doses of realism about how dreams unfold across a lifetime.<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/86pMq1IpjAc?si=4ewpJcmKv3MgzHNL" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Following his critically acclaimed collections Electronic Music from the Seventies and Eighties and Electronic Music from the Eighties and Nineties, Carl Stone pairs Baroo (March 2019) with a double-LP album of recent works, including the final section of "Fujiken", his epic journey through southeast Asian field recordings and street cassette culture. On all six tracks, composed between 2013 and 2019, Stone’s pan-global playground of looping synths and Asian pop culture remains as fertile as ever, digitally shattered into unimagined patterns and gestures, either through the MAX programming language or (in the case of "Kikanbou") by generating live loops within an Elektron Octatrack sampler.The title track is the first recorded release from Stone’s ongoing collaboration with the Japanese vocalist Akaihirume. Elsewhere new influences come from rock (the slow drum break of "Bia Bia"), disco (the Nile Rodgers-esque guitar riff "Kikanbou") and hip hop (the frenetic percussion loop of "Han Yan"). Their diversity only adds to Stone’s borderless musical vision, a world where rhythm becomes atmosphere, song becomes beat, and pop becomes art.

Mapache presents the first solo album by Tim Bernardes, singer and composer of Brazilian band 0 Terno. A magical Chamber Pop album that can be totally explained with just a word. Beauty. Sao Paulo talented jack-of all trades, Tim Bernardes Recomegar shines exquisitely from head to toe. So, cut off the overheads, turn on a lamp or light a candle, perhaps some incense, and listen to it. Might we suggest starting with “Quis Mudar” a breathtaking folk song punctuated by crystalline eruptions of strings and horns. Bernardes’ voice is truly next level. – J. Steele, Aquarium Drunkard

Perhaps the most interesting PAN in a minute; ‘Lila’ is the label debut from Paris-based Algerian Mohamed Bourouissa, best known as a visual artist but now offering a glimpse into his musical practice for the first time, blending highly unusual ambient pulses with autotuned, low-lit vocals, recorded on the fly using a keyboard, mixer, microphone and effects. It runs like some lost 1980’s private press, tipped FFO early Yves Tumor, Yungwebster, Space Afrika, AYYA, Future, Kareem Lotfy. Bourouissa’s first solo album finds the 48 year old artist capturing the permeable membrane between Paris' various communities through a dream diary of hazed ambient reflections, cloud rap inversions and bass-heavy club malfunctions. It follows his work over decades incorporating music as a phantom thread of his practice in photography, sculpture, and video, and perfectly conveys a sense of longing and melancholy central to Arabic classical and pop songs mediated via an electronic hypermodernism . The album is an intimate, sometimes unsettling experience, aptly described as “hypnagogic” by PAN, as heard in its tendency to dreamlike slowness and the layered haze of FX and xenharmonic chords that shroud and wreath his melismatic woes. The dozen tracks play out through autotuned vocal plumes familiar from work by Ayshay, Rainy Miller or Future, crossed with the type of deep blooz oozing from that superb Taymour x Bareetlblad turn on the diy label earlier this year. Each track taps a different pole into the album's landscape, one beatless, and one filled with machinegun toms and explosive snares. The beatless tracks are peculiarly stirring and the heavier, noisier moments somehow vanish into the same aether. Bourouissa peppers the album with wild twists and turns, hitting a dark alley on the anxiety-inducing 'NMB' and descending corrugated steps to a members-only basement on 'MN'. The relief comes with the title track, a collaboration with Fanigliulo (aka Mushy) that's a tender, hopeful moment - a clouded love song that injects some hope into the darkness.

Tirez Tirez’s Story of the Year documents a key transitional period as bandleader Mikel Rouse moved from Kansas City’s underground scene to downtown New York. Formed in the mid-1970s, Tirez Tirez blended new wave, minimalism and experimental pop, earning early attention while opening for Talking Heads and gaining support from figures including David Byrne.Originally released on Les Disques du Crépuscule, Story of the Year combines earlier Tirez Tirez material with later sessions recorded in New York and Brussels. The album captures Rouse’s early system-based approach, using layered rhythms and phased repetition that would later inform his development of totalism. Positioned between post-punk and contemporary composition, it catches a band in transition and an artist on the verge of a new direction.

Market East finally shares their most important statement to the world in the form of their debut LP, French Street. The group, composed of Kurt Cain on vocals, Vincent John on vocals, bass, guitar and keys, and Maxwell Perla on vocals, drums and percussion, deliver their signature celestial three part harmonies over arrangements that have never sounded so rich and compelling.

French Street is extremely soulful and the vocals are lush, like if the Zombies recorded at Muscle Shoals. The lyrics are poetic and nostalgic, as the group wrote songs about their bygone “golden” years. Back then, the boys didn’t have much besides each other and their shared love of music. Vocalist Kurt Cain lived in a small rowhome in North Philadelphia on a nearly deserted alley named French Street. It was here that Cain, John, and Perla came together every week to escape reality and get high off sharing music. They developed a deep appreciation for all things 60s and 70s, from Simon & Garfunkel to the Moments, and everything in between.

All these years later, and Market East has created a classic record of their own. From the baroque pop of the title track and the roaring soul of “Roses,” to the Latin flavors of “Echoes of My Heart” and the orchestral flares of “Everyday, Springtime,” Market East shows their impressive range. Recorded to analog tape in Philadelphia, the record was produced by the band and Eraserhood Sound. Grab your copy of this timeless classic today.