MUSIC

Ancient Lights’ is the debut album from Uniting of Opposites, the new musical venture from Tim Liken, Clem Alford and Ben Hazleton, bringing to life a melting pot of cultures and inspiration; using new technology as an opportunity to explore and merge aspects of jazz, electronica and traditional Indian musical styles. The band was established when, within the myriad forms of jazz, Hazleton met Alford and begun studying the classical Indian tradition in order to “open [his] ears to new melodic and rhythmic possibilities”. As a lover of all types and styles of music, Liken’s involvement fused together their collective musical journeys, creating Uniting of Opposites. Named after the ‘Ancient Lights’ English property law, that gives home owners the right to receive natural light, the LP brings together creative musical forces, colliding to continuously redefine the music itself and express a fluidity that’s found at the heart of Uniting of Opposites’ ethos.

Hot on the heels of ‘Mordechai’, the critically acclaimed third album from US psych-rockers Khruangbin, the Texas trio are set to become the latest act to present their own LateNightTales in the popular, long-running musician-curated album series.Having first come to prominence in 2013 when producer and D.J. Bonobo included Khruangbin’s ‘A Calf Born in Winter’ in his own collection of songs for the series, the little known Houston trio had yet to release an album, but have since gone on to become international superstars forming their own exotic, individual sound. “The LateNightTales series is such a special thing to be a part of because we wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for Bonobo’s LateNightTales, because that’s how we got into the LNT family – and got a break.”With a mind-blowing selection of tracks that cross borders and cultures, Khruangbin’s deep love of global grooves – from Asian pop to Nigerian reggae – Japanese mellow groove to Latina flavas – are steeped in eclecticism; Nazia Hassan’s Hindi-disco ‘Khushi’, produced by British-Indian legend Biddu, South Korean rock band Sanullim who contribute ‘Don’t Go’, a pair of African bangers from Nigerian Maxwell Udoh and Roha Band, from Ethiopia; a diversion to Belarus for Песняры and thence to Madrid for the strident vocal performance of Paloma San Basilio with ‘Contigo’ before hightailing back to Texas.Elsewhere, the Lone Star state reps proudly, with David Marez and Kelly Doyle plus, in the LateNightTales tradition, the band deliver an exclusive, horizontally brilliant version of Kool & The Gang’s ‘Summer Madness’, while the mix concludes with a spoken word piece by Tierney Malone, accompanied by fellow Houstonian Geoffrey Muller’s atmospheric banjo rendering of Erik Satie’s ‘Gnossienne’.“It’s cool to think about what you would listen to late at night, as a band together, lighting a spliff, kinda vibe. We definitely wanted to cover as much global territory as possible; so it was the globe and then home. We wanted to show the treasures from our hometown, or people from our hometown that the rest of the world probably doesn’t know. That’s what makes Khruangbin Khruangbin. The stubbornness about being so hometown-centric but what makes Houston is this this constant international influence. That’s that gulf stream, bringing it right into Houston. So I guess that’s kind of the theme.”The LateNightTales series was established back in 2001 with Fila Brazilia taking to the controls and mixing up the first of what would continue to be the first choice of music connoisseurs worldwide. Since then, the series has seen releases from the likes of The Flaming Lips, Hot Chip, Floating Points, David Holmes, Bonobo, Jon Hopkins, Röyksopp and many more.

A long-selling album that includes a cover of “Firecracker”—a live staple also known for its YMO version! Kruangbin, the Texas-based groove trio whose sound—rooted in Thai funk and wrapped in a unique, mellow groove—has earned them a global following, is releasing a Japan-exclusive album titled *Everything Smiles at You* to commemorate their highly anticipated Fuji Rock appearance, following their sold-out debut Japan tour in March 2019! This release features 10 tracks—all previously released as singles or on EPs but never included on an album and now available on CD for the first time—including “The Infamous Bill” and “The Number 4,” which were performed during their Japan tour and are popular live staples; “Firecracker,” also known for its YMO version; and a cover of Serge Gainsbourg’s classic “La Javanaise.”

DINTE present a cassette-only issue of an NTS radio broadcast from back in early 2019. "A cross-continental trip through instrumental surf, short-run garage rock, and space-age psych oddities from across the globe, incl. groups from the US, UK, Peru, Angola, Thailand, Japan, Indonesia, India & Singapore among others."

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

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

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

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

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

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

3/3 (Sanbun-no-San) was Friction's "pre-punk" band, a name that shines brightly in the history of Japanese rock. This is a re-release on analog LP of their legendary album, of which only 10 handmade copies were produced in 1975! It's an exceptionally rare record in Japanese rock, and its miraculous CD release in 2007 unveiled its full scope, sending shockwaves through the history of 70s Japanese rock. The rock 'n' roll groove, supported by the tight and powerful backbeat of Rec, Chico Hige, and Higo Hiroshi, is truly nothing short of spectacular!

Formed in 1967 as a psychedelic electronic duo featuring Dan Taylor on drums and Simeon on a homemade synthesizer consisting of 12 oscillators (and an assortment of sound filters, telegraph keys, radio parts, lab gear and a variety of second hand electronic junk), Silver Apples quickly gained a reputation as New York's leading underground musical expression. Their pulsating rhythmic beats with the use of electronics laid the groundwork for what would become 'Krautrock' Silver Apples was released in 1968 and still remains an innovative and revolutionary album. Their highly influential sound has influenced countless bands from Stereolab, Beastie Boys, Blur and more.

A dreamlike dispatch from mid-80's Japan, the first and only Hallelujahs album is an entrancing and gentle work of psychedelic pop brilliance. Friends gathered in the studio by Shinji Shibayama (Nagisa Ni Te), Hallelujahs created a music of deep feeling and wonderment with simple song craft and a guileless magic. The album was the first release by the now revered ORG Records in 1986 in a micro-edition of 300 copies. With affinities to the sounds of the Rough Trade and Flying Nun labels, the Paisley Underground and Galaxie 500, the album is an utterly unique masterpiece that remains a touchstone for generations of like spirited artists in Japan and around the world. Black Editions is proud to present this all-time classic in a deluxe vinyl edition, remastered from the original tapes and presented in a heavy tip-on jacket with textured paper, mounted high quality print, foil stamped finishes and spot colors. Also released with a special limited edition 7" featuring two previously unreleased tracks and hand stamped envelope with seven photo cards.

Electrifying heavy sessions recorded in 1997 featuring the classic Mainliner + Musica Transonic lineup of Nanjo Asahito (High Rise), Kawabata Makoto (Acid Mother) and Yoshida Tatsuya (Ruins) driving into new divergently fried terrain(s). Here, Nanjo and co. are on a quest to find new directions, and while the sessions were for an abandoned Mainliner album, a good portion of Solid Static hews more closely to the moment-to-moment deconstructions of Musica Transonic. The propulsive ten-minute opening title track is a lost gem in the canon of Japanese psychedelia and rock and roll -- beginning with one of Mainliner's bludgeoning motor-psycho riffs, it veers off into auratic space, Kawabata's snake-charming guitar weaving around Nanjo's buzz-fire bass and Yoshida's multi-limbed drumming. Musica Transonic's improvised and jazz-informed take on psychedelic rock is writ across the distended rhythms and arcing bass and guitar lines that scrawl across "Prosecutor" and "Topsy Turvy," or the slurry of distorted tone that rolls through "Rot Way." Available for the first time on LP or any physical form aside from a clutch of CDR's sold at a few live dates in the late '90s. Housed in a custom die-cut, "Uni-Pak" style gatefold with metallic ink, spot finishes and matching La Musica inner sleeve.

Keith Hudson's Pick A Dub is a classic album by many standards; released in1974, the session features performances from reggae legends Augustus Pablo, Big Youth, and Carlton and Aston Barrett. The 1994 re-issue on the Blood & Fire label introduced a new generation to its 'austere sonic qualities' and genre defining techniques. Pick A Dub showcases the enduring strength and pivotal importance of the rhythm to the development of reggae and dub music. Keith Hudson's complete mastery of the genre and the unqualified praise that followed its release was fully justified.

Two side-long improvisations recorded in a spring evening beneath a 1908 shot tower. That is the whole record, and it is enough. Fysiikka ja Kemia - Physics and Chemistry - surfaced in late 2025 with Biologia, a debut LP on Tampere's Ultraääni Records that the label summed up in a single line: rural psych-jazz improvisations by the Finnish bastard sons of Arbete & Fritid. Three hundred copies, each sleeve screen-printed by hand by the band, gone quickly. We Jazz picked a track for their Friends & Neighbors compilation. Beyond that, almost nothing in print. No interviews, no biography, no real trail. The music has had to speak for itself, which is exactly how the group seems to want it. Haulitorni is the second chapter and a different kind of object. Recorded live on 25 April 2026 at Pispala Jazz, the small spring festival held at the Haulitehdas, the old shot factory that sits at the foot of Pispala's steel lattice tower above Tampere, it drops the six-track sequencing of the debut in favour of two long pieces, one per side. Verkkokalastuksen alkeet - the rudiments of net fishing. Kevätmuutto - the spring migration. Titles that read like chapter headings from a school primer, which is very much the point. The group has always named things this way, borrowing the flat vocabulary of Finnish natural science and rural life and letting the music undercut it. The Arbete & Fritid reference is not idle. Like the Swedish collective in the early 1970s, Fysiikka ja Kemia work a seam where free improvisation, folk memory and a loose psychedelic rock pulse run into one another without any one of them taking charge. On Biologia that produced pieces that could open with a fragment of something like a fiddle tune and end somewhere else entirely, ten minutes later, without a visible seam. Here, with the whole of a side to fill and a room full of people, the pacing stretches. Ideas are allowed to sit. The group's patience is its most distinctive quality - a willingness to stay inside a texture until it changes on its own rather than forcing the turn. A live document, then, from a scene that rarely gets documented: the Pispala hillside and its DIY venues, the Tampere orbit that gave Finland Kemialliset Ystävät and a long line of players working at the edge of jazz and folk without asking permission from either. Released on the same night the group shares a Tampere stage with Samla Mammas Manna, which places the lineage about as clearly as it can be placed.

Suntub’ is the second full length album from ML Buch, a double record of 15 pieces by the Danish composer and producer, entering further into the realm of electric guitars and layered vocals along with exploring new instrumental expressions. With an offset in open tunings on a 7-string Stratocaster, slide and fretless tablet guitars and deep-sampled virtual guitars, the album draws up narratives and locations in a distant time. Props like puddles, well buckets, bone barrels and flesh rags live in these scenes, suspended in air, drifting about, climbing stairs and ladders, all given life through guitar sensibilities and visceral vocals.

“The fifth studio album & last euphoric mind-trip to Kikagaku Moyo's imagined island. Best-suited for counting stars, looking at the ocean, and dancing in one’s daydream.”

Suntub’ is the second full length album from ML Buch, a double record of 15 pieces by the Danish composer and producer, entering further into the realm of electric guitars and layered vocals along with exploring new instrumental expressions. With an offset in open tunings on a 7-string Stratocaster, slide and fretless tablet guitars and deep-sampled virtual guitars, the album draws up narratives and locations in a distant time. Props like puddles, well buckets, bone barrels and flesh rags live in these scenes, suspended in air, drifting about, climbing stairs and ladders, all given life through guitar sensibilities and visceral vocals.

Nigerian percussionist Gasper Lawal’s groundbreaking debut Ajomasé, originally self-released in 1980 on his own CAP label, finally sees an official reissue via the esteemed Strut imprint. Having honed his craft through collaborations with giants like Stephen Stills, Funkadelic, and Vangelis, Lawal crystallized his vision using hand-built instruments and meticulous multi-tracking to create a work of singular depth. Merging Afro-rhythmic intensity with experimental sensibilities, the album garnered international recognition after airplay from John Peel and others. A historic masterpiece where West African shamanism collides with Fourth World psychedelia, deep-rooted funk, spiritual resonance, and an avant-garde ethnomusicological spirit. Fully remastered from the original tapes.

Strut proudly presents an expansive deep dive into the world of Quatermass Sound Lab, the prolific under-the-radar East London studio founded and run by producer, engineer and The Heliocentrics co-founder Malcolm Catto. Over the last two decades, Catto has quietly established himself as a sought-after sonic architect in contemporary music. Revered for his analogue-first approach, he has built Quatermass Sound Lab around vintage recording equipment, valve preamps and live performance, creating recordings that feel warm and timeless. Equally inspired by punk, hip-hop, psychedelic rock, jazz, funk and electronic music, Catto has developed a production style that rejects genre boundaries in favour of instinct and atmosphere. Describing himself as "50% musician and 50% listener," Catto approaches each session as a collaborator rather than a conventional producer. That philosophy has made Quatermass Sound Lab a creative home for an extraordinary range of musicians, from established innovators to emerging voices. His remarkable discography spans collaborations with Yussef Dayes, DJ Shadow, Madlib, Quantic, Mulatu Astatke, Orlando Julius, Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids and countless others, each project using analogue wizardry to shape bold, contemporary recordings with a character all of their own. This collection opens the Quatermass archive for the first time, gathering previously unreleased recordings, alternate versions and mixes that chart Catto's evolution as producer, drummer and sonic instigator. Tracks include the abrasive, post-punk electronics of Snapped Ankles' ‘Shopping Parade’, French rap experimentation on Wet Enough’s ‘San Pé’ and the richly textured psychedelia of Vanishing Twin's ‘Backstroke’. Catto’s work with jazz and global sounds features with Divine Earth’s visceral ‘Free Soul’ and extended pieces by Venezuelan futurists Insólito Universo and Lausanne Afrobeat collective Professor Wouassa while undiscovered artists include the brilliant UK band Toyface with their epic ‘Potter’s Wheel’. More than a producer retrospective, Quatermass Sound Lab is a portrait of an artist whose fingerprints can be found across some of the most adventurous records of the last twenty years, presented on standard edition Black Vinyl LP or CD.

The Weather Channel is the new instrumental album from Bad Brains bassist Darryl Jenifer. It follows his 2010 solo debut, In Search of Black Judas. The record features a venerable lineup of heavy-hitters from the jazz world, including the likes of John Medeski, Ben Perowsky, Jack DeJohnette, and Karl Berger, among others. The tracklist includes nine new compositions, as well as new interpretations of two Bad Brains classics.

Their soulful funk awareness might have found its grandest stage with their self-titled 1979 “debut” for Mercury, an album that covered the band’s gritty soul with a layer of stifling L.A. gloss, that caused few heads to turn, and that marked the beginning of the end for Father's Children. Years before the coke dust had settled, another album’s worth of material had been tracked, the creative supernova that should have ushered the group into the nation's consciousness years prior. Who's Gonna Save the World is that 1973 explosion, conceived prematurely and then uncovered decades into a lengthy incubation inside producer Robert Hosea Williams’ suburban beltway garage. Unreleased previously, Father’s Children’s true freshman offering is a work genuinely concerned with its own time and place, bringing together comet-hailing funk, sunny group harmonies, fuzz-guitar solos, shimmering keys, bubbling percussion, spiritual prophecy, and dub experiments. Our deluxe LP edition includes the bonus 45 “Linda Movement” b/w “Intellect” and a folio full of promo photos that track the band’s evolution from D.C. doo-woppers to L.A disco denizens.

From the academy of deep soul and no ego, Reverend Baron delivers visions of liquor store East LA, the off-the-freeway dry mirage of slow motion graffiti and lonely seagulls. A nylon stringed zen fog with themes of woozy love, layered dimensions of nostalgia and glazed neighborhood tales that roll in with a natural ease. After notching a permanent status in the skateboarding orbit as Danny Garcia, he transferred his effortless style, dedication and authenticity into music. Practicing a philosophy of demystifying the process and doing it yourself, he has become a proficient multi-instrumentalist, engineer, and producer of his own and other artist's music. All streams of curiosity converge into the river. An enigma, Reverend Baron emerges from the proverbial gray overpass with no sense of urgency. He takes a sharp gaze at his surroundings and processes them through a factory of depth and gentle swag to yield a sound that sits as easy as fallen molasses on the bodega shelf. The songs are an unassuming invitation to either walk through the doorway or lean on the wall outside, either way something beautiful and rare.

Khruangbin did not know if they were actually making an album. All they knew in the first frigid days of 2025, as they shivered in the Central Texas barn where they’ve recorded almost all of their music, was that the 10th anniversary of their debut, The Universe Smiles Upon You, was steadily approaching. Months earlier, they’d bandied about ways to mark the occasion, debating orchestral arrangements or compendiums of bonus materials and alternate takes. Thing was, back before Khruangbin helped establish a new modern idiom of semi-instrumental and gently psychedelic American music, there had been no bonus material, no unused songs. And how interesting would alternate takes or symphonic extravagance really be for a band whose aesthetic—essential vibes, infinite grooves, riffs that rippled across the horizon—seemed so direct and pure, anyway? What if, they had instead wondered, they went back to the barn where it all began and recut the record that had started it all, on the actual 10th anniversary of those sessions? They decided, at least, to try.

It did not take long for Laura Lee, Mark Speer, and DJ Johnson to know that the idea was indeed a good one, that in holding up a mirror shaped by the past 10 years to their formative set of songs they could feel and hear how they had changed as people and players. The result is The Universe Smiles Upon You ii, 10 entirely new renditions of the songs from Khruangbin’s oldest album, played and sequenced in a way that works for them now without being strictly allegiant to who they were then. Watchful eyes, for instance, will notice that “Bin Bin ii”, a bonus track back in 2015, has moved toward this album’s center. More importantly, attentive ears will hear how liberated Khruangbin sound from any expectations rendered by their own success, how this is once again the sound of three longtime friends deciding how this material might move in real time.

The barn is an essential piece of Khruangbin lore. In 2009, many years before Khruangbin’s early singles started to shape their course or even before they were really a band, they began to head to the barn, bought by Speer’s parents in the ’80s on a modest cattle farm midway between Houston and Austin. They’d been looking for a place to rehearse in Houston when Speer’s parents volunteered the spot and the small house next door—three bedrooms downstairs, dorm-style bunks above, a century-old stove in a small kitchen. The process was so consummately D.I.Y. that, when they convened there in January 2015 to make what would become The Universe Smiles Upon You, Speer and Lee rushed to remove a nest of bees by playing bass and smashing cymbals loudly before Johnson (famously not into bees, mind you) arrived. They made the record for $1,500.

This time around, Khruangbin decided to try a few functional updates. They finally ripped out the plywood dancefloor that had been installed for a wedding nearly two decades earlier but had since become something of a sanctuary for critters that would inevitably destroy any gear left behind. They rented a new floor, then bought silent new space heaters and boxes of hand warmers that they’d stuff into gloves during sessions. The first day was Central Texas paradise—T-shirts in January, the sun shining as they set up their instruments, ran cables, and even recorded the seven-minute version of “Two Fish and an Elephant” that appears here, the rhythm that Lee and Johnson built offering a welcoming group hug for Speer’s flickering lead. But then the cold set in, a cold so gripping that they stuffed bits of construction flotsam into every crack and crevice they could find inside the barn. They moved closer and closer as the four days progressed, as if trying to absorb one another’s radiant heat.

Perhaps, then, that’s why The Universe Smiles Upon You ii feels so warm, as if they were tending a fire simply by playing together. Early into “August Twelve ii,” Johnson watched an eastern meadowlark sing just outside the barn, its song picked up by the microphones. It wasn’t their favorite performance, but they knew it captured the magic of the time and place, the yellow beauty’s melody calling these six gorgeous minutes to order. They are likewise jubilant during this very extended take on “People Everywhere (Still Alive),” applying the lessons about pace, momentum, and dynamics they’ve learned during a decade on the road to start and sustain this dance party. It is an immaculate map of the moment.

Funnily enough, while on tour with this electric trio during the last several years, Speer became fascinated with early European instruments that could sound full without being loud—the viol de gamba, for instance, or the clavichord. He imported that enthusiasm into these sessions, not only often playing acoustic guitar alongside Lee’s hollow-body Höfner bass and Johnson’s brushed drums but also covering instruments in contact mics, so that they sounded close and real. You can hear that pursuit clearly on “White Gloves ii,” a song that has become such a Khruangbin staple they initially struggled with how to remake it here. When Johnson suggested it become “country disco,” though, the track suddenly unlocked. A rural-funk canter buttresses the bittersweet vocals and twilit guitars; the recording makes it feel as if you’re sitting in the center of the barn, head pressed between the bass amp and bass drum as Khruangbin drift away.

In many ways, The Universe Smiles Upon You ii represents the close of Khruangbin’s first chapter, the complete culmination of the music they made when they arrived at the barn in January 2015. During the last decade, they have reached an apotheosis of sorts, their love of Thai pop and heavy dub and American soul and Ethiopian haze perfectly crystallized in a string of splendid records and live shows that have hypnotized massive theaters and festival crowds alike. They’ve repeatedly sold out the United States’ most famous venues, from Red Rocks and Forest Hills to the Hollywood Bowl and Radio City, and they’ve crowned festivals from Glastonbury to Bonnaroo. Paul McCartney plucked them to reimagine one of his songs, while they’ve collaborated with Mali legend and band inspiration Vieux Farka Touré to honor his late father on 2022’s Ali. After more than a decade of relentless touring and recording, their expertly polyglot 2024 album, A LA SALA, helped earn a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist. Not bad for a band that recorded its debut in a barn of bees and mice for a grand or so.

So, then, what is next? The Universe Smiles Upon You ii provides a point of pause for Khruangbin, a chance to step back from a sound they now know so well and figure out where it may go from here. They talk about woodshedding, about spending a few hours every day with their instruments to see what new shapes they can make. Khruangbin’s splendid next run, then, begins where the first one did, too—in the barn, finding their way into the world through the songs of The Universe Smiles Upon You, second time even more absorbing than the first.

“‘A La Sala,’ I used to scream it around my house when I was a little girl, to get everybody in the living room; to get my family together. That’s kind of what recording the new album felt like. Emotionally there was a desire to get back to square-one between the three of us, to where we came from–in sonics and in feeling. Let’s get back there.” - Laura Lee Ochoa The title makes it clear. A La Sala (“To the Room” in Spanish), the fourth studio album by Khruangbin, is an exercise in returning in order to go further, and do so on your own terms. It extends the air of mystery and sanctity that’s key to how bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, drummer Donald “DJ” Johnson, Jr. and guitarist Mark “Marko” Speer approach music. Yet if 2020’s Mordechai, the last studio album Khruangbin made without collaborators, was a party record whose ensuing post-lockdown tour enhanced the band’s musical reputation far and wide, A La Sala is the measured morning after. It’s a gorgeously airy album made only in the company of the group’s longtime engineer Steve Christensen, with minimal overdubs. It is a porthole onto the bounties powering Khruangbin’s vision, a reimagining and refueling for the long haul ahead. A La Sala scales Khruangbin down to scale up, a creative strategy with the future in mind. It is also a response to the unique moment Khruangbin finds itself in now: following a decade spent cultivating extraordinary music paths, beginning a year when they'll perform for more people, in more iconic spaces, staging a live show that pushes a creative envelope peculiar to them alone. (Look for the band at major festivals and venues near you.) 2024 feels like both marker and pivot, cementing Khruangbin’s stature as a commercially and critically successful group that continues to be guided by creative possibilities. Such crossroads are familiar for iconic artists throughout the rock era — your Dylans, Stevies and Bowies, up thru turn-of-the-century Radiohead, all have navigated these straits. On A La Sala, Khruangbin also pulls exploration inward, spurning the din of the crowd’s expectations, mapping a personal direction home. The trio’s collective musical DNA and the years spent constructing it in Houston’s local-meets-global cultural stew ensure the band carries on sounding like no one but itself. A La Sala may in fact be Khruangbin’s purest distillation. A cascade of crisp melodies still emanates from Marko’s reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee’s minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ’s drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Where prior album-by-album growth seemed to point the narratives towards music’s polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like known intimacies. What once seemed like sonic invocations — spaghetti-western film scores, found-sounds, dancing moments more living room than rooftop disco — are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! And there’s a freshness to the instrumental interactivity on A La Sala that’s less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in. That depth is not about therapeutic self-reflection, but a profound desire to celebrate the world’s external wonders. A La Sala invites intimate intercontinental partying. The first single is, after all, called “A Love International.” “Pon Pón” holds the band’s table at the West African discotheque; yet the joy now moves to the corner left of the dancefloor, where the back-and-forth between Laura Lee’s bass, DJ’s hi-hat, and Marko’s tuneful rhythm scratches, is a marvel of knowing head-nods. There’s “Hold Me Up (Thank You),” a familial sweetness in its spare lyrics, feeding off the rhythm section’s sturdy funk shuffle, and a chorus on which Marko’s guitar evokes both sides of the Atlantic in confident unshowy rhythms. They’re on “Todavía Viva” too, next to DJ’s noir-soul rim-shots, synth strings and a pregnant pause that is Laura Lee’s favorite moment on the album, the mood kin to the band’s glorious live interpretations of G-funk fantasias. And the rocked-up miniature, “Juegos y Nubes,” demonstrates Khruangbin’s Houston-born superpower to culture-mix, a dancing mood less concerned with worldly glamor than communal grooving. “I read something long ago, attributed to Miles Davis. He said, ‘When they play fast, you play slow. When they play slow, you play fast.’ And it's definitely how I've approached looking at music: Don't follow the trends. And if the trend is this, then do something else.” - Marko From the get-go, Khruangbin’s journey has been emphatically its own: a sound and visual representation with few precedents, ignoring pop expectations, relying only on internal inspirations, and a multitude of visions. It’s a mindset of penetrating the self, connecting to the surrounding world, modeling your own life experiences. This ethos is threaded throughout A La Sala, audible in the album’s form and function. (It’s even visible in the vinyl version’s physical package, which will be released as a set of seven distinctive covers and color-sets — more on which in a sec.) The building blocks for the album’s 12 songs were jigsaw pieces found in Khruangbin’s creative past. Having stockpiled ideas originally set down as off-the-cuff recordings (voice-memos made at sound-checks, on long voyages, as absentminded epiphanies), they began fitting those pieces together in the studio. Which parts were apt? Which could be massaged and stretched out? Which inspired new sections or rhythms or musical interactions? Once more, Khruangbin’s familial DNA kicked in. Layer-by-layer, the intimate work, rework and re-rework bore new fruit. They also brought back a strategy once foundational to their records: seeding an album with field recordings. Some results fold directly into A La Sala’s down-home feel. “Three From Two” and “May Ninth” are wistful mid-tempo numbers, with guitar melodies that reside somewhere between Bakersfield and by-the-riverside, cues that, for all its borderless inclusivity, another core Khruangbin value is being steeped in American roots. And in the landscape that music comes from. Like all albums prior to Mordechai, Marko made sure environmental sounds — natural and man-made — appeared as textures. (At times philosophically: the group recorded while cricket chirps played in their headphones, presumably for terroir.) It’s how A La Sala achieves such interconnected set-and-setting-ness. Other results are more metaphorical, especially in Khruangbin’s flirtation with ambient spaces. The dramatically beatless “Farolim de Felgueiras” and “Caja de la Sala” both feature only Marko’s unmistakable guitar dueting with Laura Lee’s Moog, lightly layered with sounds of shoes on stone steps, and cicadas in an open field. The closing “Les Petits Gris” more fully reduces and fleshes out the ambiance, with a piano and a simple single-note bass pattern, Marko’s plaintive spare guitar echoing the melody of a ballerina-turning music box. It feels an apt way of ending — as a passing of this particular moment, preparation for the next one, soon-come. Even the seven different covers that adorn A La Sala’s various vinyl editions offer a throughline from the music into Khruangbin’s current frame. Designed by the band using Marko’s multitude of travelog photos, they are windows from the band’s living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances illuminating what is going on inside. These are also directly related to David Black’s images of DJ, Laura Lee and Marko which accompany A La Sala, and to Khruangbin’s live staging reinvention. It’s all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead. “All the little moments you capture. You don't see how impactful they are until you hear what eventually comes of them. A lot of those scraps end up being the thing — and you don't realize it until it's ‘The Thing.’” - DJ

Big Crown Records is proud to present Glera, Marco Benevento’s debut album on the label. Marco Benevento has always moved like someone who understands the studio as its own instrument, not just a room where the toys are. Long before he began appearing on stages with Freddie Gibbs and Madlib, and in the liner notes of albums by Clairo and Leon Bridges, Benevento was already thinking like a producer - listening for texture, tension, and negative space, and for the strange emotional alchemy that occurs when groove and curiosity collide. His new album Glera sharpens that instinct into focus, presenting Benevento not only as a virtuosic keyboardist and bandleader, but as a composer building worlds from rhythm, tone, and feeling. Glera is a genre-bending jazz record that folds in soul and reggae’s elastic low end with an open-door sense of possibility. The project began three years ago as a kind of private exercise, with Benevento writing intuitively, inspired by Italian film scores and melody. Over time, those sketches evolved into something broader and more muscular, culminating in the grand majesty heard here. What emerges is music that moves cinematically without becoming precious. Tracks can feel like chase scenes or slow dissolves, sometimes within the same song, with jazz improvisation sharing space alongside reggae pocket, orchestral elements, and psych-pop atmosphere. It’s exploratory but grounded, complex yet unmistakably groove-forward. Album opener “Frizzante” is pure musical celebration captured on tape - a high-energy, feel-good banger that finds Marco trading melodies with himself over a relentless groove. On “Turandot,” Benevento is joined by Italy’s own Marianne Mirage on vocals; the haunting, cinematic track sits comfortably between the worlds of Portishead and Serge Gainsbourg. Then comes “Big Top,” stretching the album’s palette even further; equipped with voice memos and peacock calls, it’s most aptly summed up as “circus funk.” Blow the whistle and the game begins with the jazz-fusion–esque dancefloor filler “Houdini,” a kick-in-the-door burner from the very first drumbeat. Blending dream pop into the mix on “I Can’t Control This Bliss,” Marco invites Dream Crease to the microphone for a dose of lo-fi gorgeousness. Elizabeth Steiner brings her storied harp work to “Miss Neptune” over a deeply vibey, reggae-influenced backing track. Putting the pedal to the metal, “Sprezzatura” plays like a high-speed pursuit through narrow streets, while “Quattro Passi” brings the pace down to a saunter, featuring jazz vocalist Chiara Civello. Marco Benevento is operating at the highest level, shaping sound with purpose and curiosity. This album announces itself loudly—both outward-facing and deeply intimate. It’s music that moves—across genres, tempos, and registers—while remaining anchored to the joy of discovery. It’s a record that embodies motion, carrying the past forward without ever standing still.

What is Buck?
Buck is a state of mind, a way of life, a demeanor that gets you through the good times and the bad. If you ask Brainstory, It is also the energy that permeates their debut album.
Kevin, Tony, and Eric are a trio of brothers bounded by blood, fate, and a small town with nothing to do. Their story begins in the long lost lands of the San Bernardino Valley, in the twilight zone known as Rialto, California: An arid wasteland of boredom and empty lots. Through punk rock and skateboarding they found temporary liberation from the local monotony. However, it wouldn’t be long before a hunger for more led them to explore musical realms beyond that of the hardcore punk they admired. After stints at music school and steady disappointment trying to navigate their local jazz scene they moved to Los Angeles and Brainstory was born.
Through a introduction from Chicano Batman’s bassist, Brainstory caught the ears of Big Crown head honchos Danny Akalepse and Leon Michels. Shortly thereafter they were on their way to Queens, to record at The Legendary Diamond Mine with Michels at the helm. An instant chemistry yielded 10 songs in 10 days and now Brainstory has gifted the world with one hell of an introduction to all things Buck. Highlights include the sublime slow burner, “Dead End” which was the A-side to their first 45 on Big Crown that sold out in a matter of days. With Kevin’s sublime falsetto floating atop Tony and Eric’s unflappable and unmistakable backbeat, this tune has become a favorite with the ballad heads, the low-riders, and the slowie collectors. “Breathe” showcases another side of their sound taking a page out of the Shuggie Otis playbook and flipping the script with some stoned out west coast swag. Kev and Tony’s father, Big Tone, an accomplished performer himself, steps in on “Peter Pan” to sing lead vocals over a chorus of friends and family. Bassist extraordinaire, Tony, takes over lead vocal duties on “Sorry”, a smoked out, G Funk groove that is just waiting to be sampled.
These guys have come a long way from their self released EPs and opening tours with Chicano Batman. Their musical growth is undeniable, and taking their California sunshine vibes and mixing them with Michels’ NYC aesthetic has proven to be an amazing combination. It’s a debut record that pulls influences from so many genres seamlessly it’s hard to nail down. Call it Funk, call it Rock, call it Soul, but over here at Big Crown HQ, we’ve decided to call it BUCK. 

Fresh off of their 2020 offering Adult Themes, El Michels Affair is back with a new full-length release. Titled Yeti Season, this newest album has everything we've come to expect from EMA’s patented cinematic style of instrumental soul music. Where Adult Themes inspired a soundtrack to an imaginary film, Yeti Season brings us to a different place in time—with new inspirations. Taken with Turkish-styled funk and an almost Mumbai-esque take on soul, El Michels Affair offers us a different kind of drama and imagination with Yeti Season. If you've been following along, this shouldn't be viewed as too far a departure for El Michels Affair. The first single off of Yeti Season showed their hand back in 2018. A double-sided banger, that release brought the musical textures to the fore that dominate this record. The first song, titled "Unathi," is fully realized with the beautifully haunting-yet-hopeful vocals of Piya Malik, formerly of 79.5. Singing in Hindi, Piya's ethereal voice is telling us to work and strive together toward progress. Even if you don't understand her language, you can still hear the urgency of purpose, creating a lasting vibe that sits on top of it all. Leon Michels explains that Piya had a vital influence on this record: "When Piya started singing in Hindi, she had a different voice, a different tone. I knew we had to do something together." And so Piya appears on three other songs on Yeti Season: "Zaharila," "Murkit Gem," and "Dhuaan." Each providing particular signatures to the album. "Zaharila" is a building and changing love song punctuated by blaring trumpets, driving drums, and Piya's pleading lyrics. While the more upbeat "Murkit Gem" opens with a fuzzed out, Wu-Tang-esque baseline that buoys Piya's stylings. The psychedelic guitar and Piya's changing tones and textures singing about an all-consuming love are what pushed "Dhuaan" on to the second single from Yeti Season. There is also a vocal appearance from Shannon Wise of The Shacks, yet another Big Crown artist. Her song called "Sha Na Na," lies more in the familiar EMA vein: melodic, hypnotic, soulfully visual. But between Shannon's airy singing, the jumpy baseline, moody vibes, the active drum lines, it sounds like a pensive walk home after a strangely dramatic night. So what is Yeti Season? It could be more of a feeling than an actual place or time of year. It's a heavy album—as evidenced by the signature musicianship and dramatic vocal expressions. But it's also a hopeful record, with phrasings, textures, and chord changes that hint at something better—or fuller—coming our way. You hear it in songs like "Ala Vida," with its stabby, pulsing chords laying a bedrock for EMA's bright, atmospheric horn lines. Or even in "Fazed Out," which leaves you with a feeling of determination, a striving for resolution even though the driving, march-like song structure should accompany some conquering army. This persistence has to come from the fact that Leon Michels and company finished this record during the lockdown. It was a tough and troublesome time. But look at what has come of it: Yeti Season—a record of high and heavy drama, but also one of hope and promise. It may take a year like 2020 behind us to find hope in a winter big footed creature like a Yeti, but that's where we are.