MUSIC

A real people music masterpiece, D.R. Hooker’s 1972 debut meets at the be-in of drug-addled hippy psychedelia and evangelical Christianity. Conjuring visions of an L.S.D.-damaged Frank Sinatra or Lou Reed playing the role of a divorced suburban dad, The Truth is a religious midlife crisis disguised as a private press LP. Forge your own chains, indeed.

Wilurarrakutu is the brilliant debut from Papunya-based artist Keanu Nelson, an intimate exercise in musical storytelling and reflection. The album's eight tracks, sung in both Papunya Luritja and English, are verses of prose and poetry pulled directly from Nelson's notebooks and set to minimalist, DIY electronic arrangements.The evocative musical backdrops—featuring Casio keyboards, drum machines, and subtle synth flourishes—were created in collaborative sessions between Nelson and Sydney producer Yuta Matsumura. The two met by chance on Matsumura's visit to Papunya last year. Their impromptu jam sessions form the foundation for Wilurarrakutu's low-key sonic palette, influenced in parts by Papunya's strong local gospel music scene as well as the reggae beats often passed around the remote community via USB sticks and mobile phone transfers.Over these soundscapes, Nelson sings of family, friends, heritage, and culture, with a tone that balances joy and melancholy. They're themes and emotions that also echo through his work as a painter at the Papunya Tjupi Arts Centre. In this way, Wilurarrakutu becomes an extension of his art practice - a graceful audio portrait of a place that evokes the resonance of home.

Clear vinyl. Edition of 500 The Danish-Chilean composer Molina (b.1992), explore the transformation between organic and synthetic musical landscapes. She weaves her own tapestry of dreamy guitar surfaces, soaring flutes and atmospheric vocals.

Jazz drummer Takeo Moriyama has dominated the free jazz scene since the late 1960s with the Yosuke Yamashita Trio, and in recent years has performed with the KYOTO JAZZ SEXTET, and is loved by many fans old and new. This album, recorded in 1980 with a quartet featuring his close friend Fumio Itabashi, is also famous for the first recording of the famous song “Watarase,” which is full of Japanese sentiment.

One of the most representative works of their career, this album contains 7 tracks recorded at the "best performance" in a hall recording. This is a masterpiece that will remain in the history of Japanese fusion music, and was selected as one of the best albums of 1982 by both ADLIB and JAZZLIFE magazines. Cutting by Bernie Grundman. Repressed on clear green vinyl!

Japanese jazz and rare groove masterpiece re-released on clear lime yellow colored vinyl!
A single stroke of the drum will numb your whole body. Japan's super funky drummer, Akira Ishikawa, runs through the wonderland of grooves!

Akira Ishikawa is a superb funky drummer born in Japan. He is highly regarded in many fields for his ability to travel freely through jazz, rock, and African music, fuse them together, and create his own unique musical style. His career is lined with masterpieces of jazz-rock and rare groove, but this album is especially favored for its outstanding selection of songs and poignant musicality. The album includes "Let's Start," a tight cover of Fela Kuti's Afro-funk, "Bongo Rock," a dynamic song with drum breaks, and "Pick Up The Pieces," a jazz-funk version of the Avebury White Band's classic. Pieces," a jazz-funk version of the Avebury White Band classic, and many other monster tunes that are hard to believe were recorded in 1975. Supported by such virtuosos as Kiyoshi Sugimoto, Hiromasa Suzuki, and Ken Muraoka, the album also shines.
text by Yusuke Ogawa (universounds/Deep Jazz Reality)

A trio of Kansas City soul sweepers, from the sprawling midwest burg's storied Cavern, Damon, and Forte concerns. Bump and the Soul Stompers' 1970 sweet soul double sider "I Can Remember" was a tail pipe-dragging, low rider classic in the making, had it ever been released. A few years later Jerald "Bump" Scott took his new group to Cavern's subterranean confines to cut the group harmony masterpiece "Living In The Past," but remained unissued prior to Numero's discovery of the Cavern tapes. As disco was cresting at the top of the next decade, Sharon Revoal tracked her James Brown meets James Bond stepper "Reaching For Our Star"—the last 45 released on Marva Whitney's peerless Forte label.

Suicide Squeeze is thrilled to deliver a reissue of Interloper, the 2020 album from Holy Wave. Interloper sees Holy Wave adding new layers to their lush and mesmerizing songwriting style. Written about the duality between life at home and life on the road, it sees the band expanding on its most esoteric and thought-provoking themes. "I'm Not Living in the Past Anymore" is a mantra about breaking the cycle of the mundane, and "Escapism" is a dream-like meditation. "Interloper" serves as the centerpiece for this self-expanding record, asking, what happens when the world beneath your feet changes so much that you feel like a stranger in your own shoes? The band turns inward to blissed-out moments on album opener "Schmetterling," the saccharine haze of "R&B," and the freak-out catharsis of live favorite "Buddhist Pete." With Interloper Holy Wave weaves together a contemplative tapestry that can serve as a road map for the diffident, a soundtrack to self-realization, or simply an invitation to escape.

Robin Carolan’s latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers’ highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack’s eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan’s inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score’s otherworldly tone.   Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan’s artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

is the fourth and most recent studio album by the Brazilian band O Terno. The record, which follows the acclaimed 2016 release "Melhor do Que Parece", features 12 unreleased compositions and musical experimentations that show a new path for the band. Released by Selo RISCO, it's filled with orchestral arrangements that add up the sound of the trio, formed by Tim Bernardes, Biel Basile and Guilherme d'Almeida, and also features special appearances by Devendra Banhart and Shintaro Sakamoto.

Distance as a measure of time and place informs Kelly Finnigan’s, A Lover Was Born with a grit and grace that turns passion into virtue. The latest solo release from The Monophonics frontman roots itself in the best traditions of midwest soul labels like King, Curtom, Dakar, and the Bodie Recording Company. A Lover Was Born is a testimony that these deep cut grooves are not resigned to nostalgia, instead, they are at the burning heart of longing and hope. The journey Finnigan takes listeners on over Lover’s eleven tracks echo the state of motion and growth since his solo debut, The Tales People Tell (2019). These two records bookend a prolific period of output, including a pair of Monophonics albums, a Christmas album, a mixtape, and a full slate of producing other artists (The Ironsides, Alanna Royale, the Sextones). “There’s nothing like making records,” says Finnigan. “It feels like that’s my purpose — the reason I was put on this earth.” Written in California, Ohio, and Staten Island, Kelly Finnigan collaborated with old friends in and outside the studio. “I enjoy working alone but it’s not how you want to make a record…almost everybody I brought in for this album I’ve worked with, toured with or spent a great deal of time with.” Max and Joe Ramey (The Ironsides), Jimmy James (Parlor Greens), Sergio Rios (Orgone), Joey Crispiano (Dap Kings) and Jay Mumford (aka J-Zone) all contribute to the overall sound of A Lover Was Born. Dramatic influences like Isaac Hayes (check out the piano on “Be Your Own Shelter”) and Jerry Ragovoy are chopped and folded into Northern Soul uptempo numbers to create stompers like “Get a Hold of Yourself” or “Chosen Few”. Finnigan’s take on Deep Soul is captured brilliantly on “Walk Away from Me” and “Love (Your Pain Goes Deep)”, while Boom Bap pervades on hard hitters “His Love Ain’t Real” & “Cold World”. Slower songs such as “Let Me Count the Reasons”, the emotional “All That’s Left”, and the soul-stirring album closer “Count Me Out” show the honest and tender side that has become Finnigan’s calling card. All the while, the voice is raw and earthy — in the best tradition of R&B shouters like Otis Redding, Lee Moses, and David Ruffin. The songs on A Lover Was Born reconfigure the spliced and sampled DNA of hip hop (extracted by crate diggers like Dilla and RZA) to create something new, underscoring both the spectrum and depth of soul while making a case to the timelessness of Finnigan’s sound.

Blake Lee has always been fascinated by the unknown, and space, in its isolating, mysterious vastness, embodies this theme immaculately. The open void, captured so memorably by Stanley Kubrick in '2001: A Space Odyssey', is Blake's far-reaching canvas on 'No Sound In Space', a cinematic meditation on the cosmos that's painted in nuanced, emotionally sincere colors. The Los Angeles-based composer has been contemplating his full-length debut since 2021, using his guitar as a sonic paintbrush rather than find himself snared in its traditional aesthetic constraints. Transforming its characteristics with effects and subtle processes, he layers sustained tones and intimate improvisations, creating richly visual polychromatic utopias teeming with unknown life. Since 2011, Blake has been most known for being the guitarist and a music director for Lana Del Rey, notching up three songwriting credits on her acclaimed ‘Ultraviolence’ full length. He sees his solo work as a form of escapism, a place where he can experiment and find comfort and catharsis outside of expectations and formal structure. The album was written instinctively, and Blake made sure he didn't force anything, letting go and getting out of his own way, listening intently as sounds and textures materialized organically. "I didn't want to ruin it by being a perfectionist," he laughs. And his collaboration with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, who runs the OFNOT label and contributes to two of the tracks on the album, occurred similarly organically. Blake was moved to reach out to KMRU when he caught a performance of 'Natur' at Los Angeles' Zebulon in 2022, leading to a prolonged back-and-forth. They didn't meet in person until earlier this year, by which time they'd become firm friends, continuously sharing music and conversation. KMRU had lent a valuable ear to Blake, who sent early playlists of 'NSIS' that, over the months, slowly evolved into the finished album. It's the first release on OFNOT that's not by KMRU himself; the label emerged last year with the release of KMRU's own 'Dissolution Grip', and Blake's debut immediately expands its sonic universe. Alongside the playlists, Blake also provided KMRU with the tracks' raw stems, which he began to edit and expand in his Berlin studio. 'Miura' and 'Waiting' are the result of this process, two sublime abstractions that augment Blake's dreamlike, euphoric tones with KMRU's pebbly distortions and booming low-end rumbles. And this same playful sense of freeness seeps into Blake's other compositions. On the misty 'In A Cloud', he surrounds cascading string tones with soft-focus pads that swell until they're like crashing waves, and on the two 'Echoplexx' pieces, he uses delay and reverb to smudge his sounds until they're viscous residue, the harmonies obscured by whooshes of white noise and distant chimes. The mood is quieted somewhat on 'Moving Air', as Blake's swirling tones form half-heard lullabies, coalescing into a dense, melancholy crescendo, and he fills out the sound with reverberant airport recordings on 'Pan AM', letting pitchy My Bloody Valentine-esque drones warble beneath the transitory chatter. Each track melts into the next, forming a billowing, cryptic narrative that leaves more questions than answers. Blake is constantly searching, and fills his unoccupied space with warmth, perception and sensitivity.

One of UK Grime’s most shadowy figures comes of age with a killer full length debut released in collab between True Panther and DJ Python’s Worldwide Unlimited, brimming with an incandescent energy arcing from OG to contemporary eras. It's fully addictive gear, joining unexpected dots between hook-heavy pop and weirder modes, on a tip somewhere between Vegyn, Dean Blunt, Playboi Carti, Klein & Junior Boys - just v v good!!!! Previously appearing on these pages as a guest (alongside Charlotte Church!) on Klein’s stunning ‘Harmattan’ album, Jawnino has been actively issuing prime zingers since 2019’s cult self-release ‘It’s Cold Out’, building a robust rep for his effortless and unique takes on grime, drill, jungle, and rap. Noted for his animated style of “melancholic chaos”, Jawnino flows ambidextrous on whatever’s in front of him, and ’40' gives him a whole new playground in which to romp; spelling out his dare-to-differ slant on a colourful instrumental palette supplied by new hands - Woesum, HNRO, Brbko, 3o, and Cold - alongside more experienced guest features and remixers - James Massiah (aka Babyfather’s DJ Escrow), Bok Bok (remixing here as One Bok), Airhead, Evilgiane - with breezy fresh steez and classic storytelling that transcends eras. Blessed with a naturally uncompromising yet broad appeal, Jawnino’s music speaks to life in 2020’s London with an observantly perceptive quality, delivered behind a mask of anonymity. His music is also artfully aware, exhibiting an appetite for variation that sees him glyde equally well on ohrwurming choruses on ‘2trains’, as he does at soulful grime for the club in ‘Dance2’ - an update of his ‘Good Thing Bad Thing Who Knows’ EP nugget that we swear sounds like Junior Boys - while also finding a wry humour in broken Britain on the timelessly drizzly melancholy of ‘It’s Cold Out’, a new expansion of his debut cut produced by Poundshop, Oliver Twist and Cold - and that’s only the opening trio. Characteristic of his generation’s attraction to the most salient aspects of the preceding 20 odd years, Jawnino proves just as adept at jumping on tight D&B to tell tales of weekend excess (‘Lost My Brain’) as screwed boogie forging binds with US spar MIKE (’Short Stories’), or shuffling in the twilight of ‘90s R&B (‘Wind’). A particular standout of drill drama ‘Westfield’ characterises his ability to boost the energy by factors, and likewise dial it right down and draw us closer in on his description of popping percocet, molly and shrooms in ‘sentfromheaven’, also here in Bok Bok’s finely retuned version, nagging ’til the end beside Airhead’s piquant retweak of ‘Cant Be’. For anyone losing faith in rap soundalikes, Jawnino reaffirms a love for classic forms pronounced in new ways.

Jiro Inagaki was one of the central musicians in the development of jazz rock in Japan. Sensing the limitations of existing jazz music, Inagaki said, “I want to play something that has never been done before, not to mention jazz rock, with a band that has a strong rock flavor,” and in 1969 he began working in earnest in the soul media. This work, “Head Rock,” recorded in 1970, symbolizes his activities and musicality.

It is with great pleasure that we announce Mitchum Yacoub’s debut album " Living High in the Brass Empire"— a showcase in unique stylings of tropical funk, afrobeat, cumbia, and soul; a musical patchwork threaded by a heavy, hypnotic rhythm section and powerfully vibrant horn lines. What sounds like a 12-piece ensemble was actually mostly recorded and performed by Yacoub at his home in San Diego, featuring a few close friends from local groups Sure Fire Soul Ensemble and Boostive. The horn section is comprised of Travis Klein, Bradley Nash, and Wesley Etienne (featuring Todd Simon on “Los Muñequitos"), each with distinguished performances that send the music to higher heights. Nuanced vocalist Divina Jasso lends humanity and introspection throughout the head-nodding soul sounds of “Never Knew”, Latin dance anthem “Cumbia Divina”, and the syncopated funk of “Empire”. You’ll hear rhythms from Colombia, folkloric percussion of Cuba, interlocking grooves à la Fela Kuti, 70’s r&b influence, and something in between it all. Drawing many inspirations into a refreshing and unified record, we think you’ll enjoy Living High in the Brass Empire.

Something of a sequel to Eternal Rhythm, his classic meeting of free jazz and world music from five years prior, Eternal Now found Don Cherry entering the studio for the tiny Sonet label, once again with members of the European avant-garde scene (this time from Sweden). This time around, though, the focus swings decidedly to the world-folk end of things: The only standard Western instrument is the piano, featured on only two of the five pieces (one of which is a non-traditional, African-styled repeated figure for two pianos and three players). The other instruments -- which include a great deal of percussion -- come from Africa, Tibet, China, India, Romania, and Indonesia. The session has a very loose, exploratory feel (four pieces are around eight minutes or more), which leaves lots of room for the musicians to play with the exotic textures of the instruments. The arrangements tend to be sparse, with plenty of open space that allows each instrument to be heard clearly, making for a sound that's similar to some of the Art Ensemble of Chicago's '60s work (on the same note, the percussion on "Tibet" also recalls the AEC's "little instruments" experiments). Cherry and the rest of his musicians hardly approach the project in a traditional manner (none of these intercontinental instrument combinations had probably been tried before); the whole point is to explore new musical possibilities and commonalities among cultures. While the results do meander occasionally, Eternal Now on the whole remains a fresh, unpredictable listen.

Recorded in December 1976, Hear And Now was produced by drummer / keyboardist Narada Michael Walden (ex-member and session man for Journey, Mahavishnu Orchestra, Weather Report). The album – licensed by major label Atlantic – has been often dismissed by jazz purist and early days Cherry fans as a commercial effort. To be true it is a record that epitomize the ‘club’ tendencies discovered in the second half of the decade by many jazz and fusion artists. Led by the incredible ‘world’ rare groove of Universal Mother, the album is to be rediscovered in a different light.

Caetano Veloso is one of the great masters of Brazilian music. This is the analog reissue of his fifth studio album, "Alaska Azul," which was released in 1973 and showcased the most experimental sound of his career. The album's refracted experimentalism is even more fresh than the image in the bizarre cover photo, bleached with plagian tropicalia and psychedelics.

While no bust of Ned Doheny appears alongside those of his Laurel Canyon brethren in the pantheon of classic rock, it’s not for lack of songwriting abilities or recording chops. After Doheny and his buddy Jackson Browne were expelled from Elektra’s failed recording ranch, he and his Nudie-decked Canyon cohorts would go on to form the bedrock of Geffen’s Asylum label. But while his peers were looking east to Bakersfield for inspiration, Ned was applying skills foraged under the tutelage of classical guitar god Frederick Noad and west coast post-bop jazzer Charles Lloyd. Rolling Stone called his self-titled 1973 debut, "a sort of Southern California Astral Weeks," but that complimentary comparison brought few copies of the album to Tower on Sunset's cashiers and Doheny was dropped unceremoniously. Two of Ned's most enduring compositions were written during his free agency. The tongue-in-cheek "Get It Up For Love" began as a rollicking folk number, only to be stretched out by the likes of David Cassidy, the Fabulous Rhinestones, Johnny Rivers, Tata Vega, and Ned himself on his sophomore album Hard Candy. Also appearing on the Steve Cropper-produced album was "A Love Of Your Own," co-written with Average White Band's Hamish Stuart, and covered over the coming years by the Ebonys, Melissa Manchester, Millie Jackson, and AWB. Despite featuring a who's who of California heavyweights, including David Foster, JD Souther, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Linda Ronstadt, HB Barnum, and the entire horn section for Tower of Power, the 1976 album was no match for Columbia's real blue eyed priority Boz Scaggs, whose "Lowdown" battleship blew Ned's cutter out of the water. His last taste of American chart success would come in 1981 via “What Cha’ Gonna Do For Me,” another cowrite with Stuart that Chaka Khan took to the top of the charts. Over the last three decades, Doheny’s albums have slid in and out of print on LP and CD, budget jobs without any involvement from the self-described “avatar for casual vulgarity.” Separate Oceans examines Ned Doheny’s first ten years adrift in song, pulling together choice album cuts and 11 previously unissued demos. An 8000 word essay is illustrated by images from the archives of noted rock photographers Henry Diltz, Moshe Brahka, Clive Arrowsmith, and Gary Heery, creating the first ever overview of this unheralded marina rocker.

“I could not be alive alone,” a longtime family friend said to Merce with a smile. “None of us could be alive alone.” Within the quiet, cascading corners of Pittsburgh lies a community – nothing short of one large family – that spans zip codes, histories, occupations, and generations, always tumbling into itself, propped up by steadfast pillars of conviction toward spiritual and emotional mutual aid. The kind of earnest community scaffolding that gets bandied about, wielded as conjecture, particularly in an age of increasing fracture through digital sublimation, is alive and quite well within the universe surrounding Merce Lemon. When asked how the city has inspired her creative practice, she responds with a characteristic joke wrapped in an earthen warmth – “There are big hills, three rivers, and more bridges than anywhere in the whole world.” Growing up in a family of art and music in a city with a small, but vigorously supportive scene, Merce has been going to shows here her whole life, even playing them with the “grown up” friends of her parents – as recently as a few years ago, her band was comprised of her own father and his peers in the Pittsburgh music community. Merce took a step back in 2020, after releasing her last album 'Moonth', to reassess during an era of anxiety and lockdown – even the reliably nourishing exercise of sharing and playing music felt precarious. “I was grappling with what kind of relationship I wanted with music in my life. It was just something I’d always done, and I didn't want to lose the magic of that – but I was just having less fun.” In this time of restless non-direction, she turned her gaze inwardly, down to the roots – figuratively and literally. “I got dirty and slept outside most of the summer. I learned a lot about plants and farming, just writing for myself, and in that time I just slowly accumulated songs.” A never-ending creative hunger, supported by the community framework she’d always been able to depend on, had been newly fertilized by the wide-eyed inspiration that came from plunging her hands into both the earth’s soil and her own. Rooting around for an answer, finding and turning in her palms what had been buried there all along – from this rediscovery, imbued with the vitality of earth’s green magic, 'Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild' sprouted forth. The album emerges, enveloped in propulsive guitars and saccharine-sweet songs of blackbirds and blueberries, from the dead-calm center of a pastoral frenzy in a manner that one could argue as erratic, reckless — a grave misconception, as Merce is just as aware of where she’s being pulled from as she is curious about where to go next. Her sound is built upon a reverence and gratitude for the natural world, how paying respect to it charts a more confident path through the choppy waters of the heart. On the soft and confessional “Rain,” she maps memory onto the stillness of the landscape around her, panning for clarity in an endlessly blue sky: “I can see your relentlessness / in the muddy puddles where retting is / shattering the splintered stalks / where golden braids pour into drops." In her music, romantic and familial love rips into and out of itself, barely registering as disparate feelings in the flurry of reckoning. Lead single “Backyard Lover” is an honest and incisive exploration of this confused, raw intimacy. In it, a warm memory gently meanders alongside warbling steel and guitars, tinged with a classic outlaw haze, before it suddenly erupts with the frustration of a broken promise, making way for a cathartic sonic fury – “what dying felt like / a wooden spoon tossed in the fire / cause nothings good enough / you fucking liar.“ The song’s climax deftly uncovers the formidable heartbeat hidden underneath the floorboards of her creative expulsion: loss. “So many of my songs are touched by and explore death, specifically in relation to the loss I experienced of my best friend when I was fifteen years old” says Merce. “That loss has forever changed me and who I am in my relationships to lovers, friends, family." In reconciling the quiet conflict of a desire for closeness and a solitude cultivated by distrust, there is a fierceness, a persistence in her vulnerability, matched in droves by the wildness of her band. These songs range, often within the structure of a single track, from ballads to blown out electric riffs combating feedback, harmonies concealed behind wailing guitars, both dependent on each other as they careen towards new meaning. They build slowly, synthesizing a naturalist’s penchant for romance and nihilism to create the warring, triumphantly escalating nature of Merce’s lyrics and her band’s heavy entropy. For Merce, the only certainty is the endlessly shifting nature of a river, roaring straight past a dogwood, never missing the opportunity to watch a petal fluttering to the ground in the rear view. They are songs of belonging just as much as they are songs of longing – ”Say I was a lonely gust of wind / could I redirect them,” she muses in “Crow”, one of the more hopeful tracks on the record. Its structure is simple, gentle acoustics pushed forward by an ever-present and fluid percussion that guides the song as naturally as Merce hopes to guide the “murderous flock,” forgoing the voyeur in all of our hearts and comfortably settling in the supportive role of a shepherd – “I’d make a city of this ghost town / even let the crows come / rest their necks / and nest their young.” There is an oaken strength in 'Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild' that makes it easy to love – once wild, still free, honest and familiar. Its genesis is timeless, its restlessness eternal – it is one cohesive yet unanswered question built around, and dependent upon, the life-giving force of nature that came before Merce. The album’s closing track also inspires its title – a lonely ballad of forlorn projection into an unknown future, forever protected by the comforting green of Pittsburgh’s hills, rivers, bridges, and homes: “Old man howling / laughing his teeth out / with the dogs down the hill. And a tree fell / I smell the wood / and the bark is coming off in sheets / I write my words down on it. And honestly / the thoughts of a husband / weighing on me.”

Sounds created for no reason. Sounds that come and go, and disappear into the air like a scent, as soon as they materialize. Atonal phrases that hold the meaning of words that existed before the advent of language. The wonders of a vortex pulsing with life. Just as a new discovery is actually a new way of looking to see what has always been there, OOIOO, seemingly from the core of their being, created a world of sound made up of parts well known that is strikingly precise and intensely original. After a six year hiatus, OOIOO has created a new album that goes back to the roots of being a four-piece band. The music shows the full spectrum of the unique sound they have crafted throughout the years, which can only be described as “OOIOO”.

It might come as a surprise that nijimusi was recorded mainly using a conventional rock ensemble of two guitars, bass, and drums. OOIOO viewed their instruments simply as “objects that make sounds”, and took a primitive and basic approach to creating the music. The drum tones fluctuate powerfully through the air, while sounding as if they are being observed under a microscope. Bass notes and electronic bursts are so dense that they sound like they’ve been vacuum-sealed. The arrangement of the tones seem to be almost ancient, transcending the notion of a musical ensemble, suggesting the connectivity and oneness that is inherent in all living creatures.

Founded in 1995 by legendary percussionist/guitarist/vocalist YoshimiO, OOIOO’s members came together as musicians who move freely between the audible and inaudible, rhythm and non-rhythm, noise and silence. The music they create is a collection of moments and essences of their favorite sounds, captured as they were created before returning into the ether. In 2016, drummer MISHINA joined the band, allowing more freedom in their rhythmic approach and overall sound. Just as each cell in the body consists of a microcosm of its own, the vibrations of each of the members resonate together to create a new life form, a process reflected in nijimusi.

nijimusi can be considered music, but is also a work of art that stimulates the sense of touch and smell, while being atmospheric and ethereal at the same time. If music is an art form based on the sense of hearing and the concept of time, this album may be deviating from the conventional definition of music. The work is a reflection of the sounds resonating from OOIOO while as they were completely present in the moment. The sounds are like the cries emanating from a creature called OOIOO, proof that it is a living, breathing being. Experience the sounds of OOIOO that can only be heard in the here and now. 

MM..FOOD, a 2004 concept album "about what you find at a picnic or at a picnic table," released by underground rap's greatest voice MF DOOM on Rhymesayers, is back in analog form! The fifth studio album, which debuted at #17 on Billboard's Independent Albums chart, features guest appearances by Count Bass D, Angelika, 4ize, and Mr. Fantastik.

Kristin Hayter sheds her Lingua Ignota guise for the debut release under her Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter project. ‘SAVED!’ is inspired by American religious music of the god-fearing past, Southern gospel, and various strains of pre-rock folk and country. It picks up where ‘Sinner Get Ready’ left off, applying degraded audio and stripping the instrumentation down to the barebones minimal of twangy guitars, piano, and her haunting vocals. Imagine a countryfied, infernal spin on the murder balladry of Nick Cave, PJ Harvey, and Nico, and you’d get this magnificent album.

The first new music from the post-emo trio in two decades. Out of the brain of Geoff Farina spills 10 new tales from their unlikely reunion, tracked with long-time Karate collaborator Andy Hong. Make It Fit crams 35 minutes of Wes Montgomery homage, Fugazi dub plate party rocking, Lynott lyricism, and Clash city crooning into a graceful seventh album.