MUSIC

In order to record the compositions in his critically-acclaimed 2022 release GOLD, Alabaster DePlume instilled a culture of creativity by leading his ensembles in spontaneous composition and development. To allow them to be present, he kept the musicians constantly creating across several weeks of sessions at London creative hub Total Refreshment Centre. This process resulted in an abundance of material, much more than he could fit onto the initial double LP. After spending most of 2022 touring in support of GOLD, Alabaster spent much of early 2023 revisiting the additional material from those Total Refreshment Centre sessions – adding, subtracting, producing and arranging – resulting in an entirely new album, Come With Fierce Grace. Come With Fierce Grace is an album made of authentic and unstipulated – yet welcomed – human interaction. It is for the most part an album of instrumentals, with exception of a few vocal features by Momoko Gill (aka MettaShiba), Falle Nioke, and Donna Thompson. However the instrumentals on this album are much more embryonic and unfiltered than the lush orchestrations heard on Alabaster’s breakout 2020 album To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals Vol. 1. Come With Fierce Grace is perhaps the most raw and candid portrait of Alabaster’s creative compositional process we’ve yet to hear, as he’s captured vividly in the room with his collaborators – stretching, exploring, working to deepen and expand the emotions underlying his melodic and poetic frameworks. Regarding the process, Alabaster cites a similarity to how elements in nature contribute to shared work and beauty without a collective motive – a bee’s own motives result in the delivery of pollen. As he says: “The great thing wants to happen, let us allow it to happen.” Regarding the origin of the album’s name: On his first trip to perform in the US in March 2022, Alabaster collected messages from individuals, as he asked them if there is anything they would like him to share with his audiences. One message (from a person who preferred to remain anonymous) asked Alabaster to encourage people to “come with fierce grace.”

ZZK Records Presents: Luzmila Carpio’s Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol The iconic voice of Luzmila Carpio rings out from the Andes, spreading messages of indigenous struggle, female empowerment and unceasing love for both the people and planet around us. An undeniable icon of Bolivian Andean culture whose career spans multiple decades, Luzmila has released more than 25 albums (there’s a reason that Rolling Stone described her as”one of the most prolific indigenous singers of South America”), inspiring millions while singing in both her native Aymara-Quechua language and Spanish. Yet Luzmila Carpio isn’t someone who’s content to simply rest on her laurels; she continues to take risks—and push her music into vibrant new soundworlds. On new album Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol (her first LP in a decade), she’s teamed up with Argentinian producer Leonardo Martinelli (a.k.a. Tremor), a ZZK veteran who’s spent the bulk of his career finding the common ground between Latin American folk rhythms and modern electronics. Building off the momentum created by 2015’s Luzmila Carpio Meets ZZK collection—in which her music was reworked by not only Tremor, but standout electronic artists like Nicola Cruz, Chancha Vía Circuito and El Búho—this new album is meant to stretch across genres, generations and continents, with Luzmila’s sonorous, occasionally birdsong-inspired vocalizations gracefully gliding amongst ambient textures, programmed beats and (of course) a bevy of traditional instrumentation from around the globe. Over the course of the LP, Bolivian charangos and quenas sit comfortably alongside the sounds of harmonium, violin, acoustic and electric guitar, Argentinian bombo leguero and sacha guitar, Armenian duduk and a litany of Asian percussion. Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol—which will be accompanied by a full length documentary—might not sound like previous Luzmila Carpio releases, but on a spiritual, political and lyrical level, her core values remain unchanged. A native of Bolivia’s Potosí region, she’s long been a beacon for indigenous communities in not just her home country, but throughout Latin America, her voice inspiring joy and pride amongst ancient peoples whose culture and inherent beauty are often overlooked. Her pursuit of music—a field traditionally dominated by men in Andean communities—long ago made her a pillar of women’s empowerment, but Carpio has also been a vocal proponent for social change, using her influence to advocate not just for the rights of women, but for the protection and increased visibility of all indigenous people. Yet it’s the planet itself that Carpio is most passionate about, and she’s devoted much of her new album to conversations with Mother Earth and Father Sun, whom she refers to as Pachamama and Tata Inti. In a time of acute environmental turmoil, it’s more important than ever to find harmony with our surroundings, and Carpio has purposely planned for the unveiling of her new LP to coincide with the June 21 solstice, while the record’s release date falls on September 21—the date of the September equinox. There 's an ancient magic flowing through Carpio’s music, one forged through millennia of ceremony, ritual and communion with nature. On Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol, that magic feels more vibrant than ever before, whether she’s joyously referencing sacred traditions (“Kacharpayita”), pondering loss and regret (“Requiem para un Ego”), talking to birds (“Ofrenda de los Pájaros”) or paying tribute to the divinity of the natural world (“La Alegría del Gran Venado”). Through it all, Carpio exudes a palpable sense of wonder, her optimism (and reverence for all that exists beyond the everyday) undimmed by even the most seemingly insurmountable challenges. Pachamama and Tata Inti may be the central characters of Inti Watana: El Retorno del Sol, but it 's Carpio herself who emerges as the album 's most inspiring figure.

Karen y Los Remedios: blending cumbia and existentialism

Behind Karen’s pulsating spectral voice lies vulnerability, contemplation and longing. Chameleon-like foundations explore cumbia in its many forms, crossing the continent with Norteño airs, pitched-down rebajados, psychedelia and even traditional Peruvian music, taking in ballads, Afro-Latin percussion, reggaeton and the more electronic sounds of dream-pop, trip hop and downtempo.

A mystical, motley mixture, the ideal soundscape to fight the voices in your head while you melt on the dancefloor and scare away the ghosts of your past, your body surrendering to the dance.

That’s pretty much Karen y Los Remedios, the project led by Ana Karen G Barajas, an artist and arts and social sciences researcher born in Mexico City and raised in Guanajuato, in the company of Mexico City native Jonathan Muriel (Jiony) and guitarist Guillermo Berbeyer (Z.A.M.P.A.), who after many years on Mexico’s alternative scene decided to get together and bring this existential cumbia project to life.

It was a musical cocktail born in a marketing meeting: Two parts easy listening, one part jazz, a healthy dollop of conga drums, a sprinkling of bird calls, and a pinch of textless choir. Serve garnished with an alluring female on the album jacket for best results. Exotica! The soundtrack for a mythical air conditioned Eden, packaged for mid-century, tiki torch-wielding armchair safariers. Be it mosquito-bitten torch singers, landlocked surf quartets, fad-chasing jazz combos, mad genius band leaders, D-list actors, or a middle aged loner programming bird calls into a Hammond, Exotica was always more concerned with what geography might sound like over who was conducting. Captured across three albums (or three compact discs) are 48 (or 54) curious examples of the short-lived genre’s reach, each summoning their own sonic visions of Shangri La, bringing their versions of the Pacific, Africa, and the Orient to the hinterlands of America. Technicolor Paradise is where one makes it, after all.

Bisola Olungbenga was just nine years old when she started writing music. Encouraged by her piano playing mom, she would come home from school and compete with her sister, dreaming up verses and choruses for rewards of candy. Since then, Olungbenga has evolved into Aunty Razyor, one of Nigeria's most vibrant emerging artists - a cross-genre innovator who blends hip-hop, Afrobeat, R&B and experimental sounds into an energetic portrait of contemporary Lagos. "Viral Wreckage" is Olungbenga's debut album, and follows the breakout success of her viral 2021 street anthem 'Kuku Corona'. This time she's assembled a lineup of some of the world's most exciting producers to help realize her vision: Congolese singer, guitarist and producer Titi Bakorta, young Ugandan producer Ill Gee, veteran Japanese innovator Scotch Rolex, São Paulo-based baile funk producer DJ Cris Fontedofunk, French beatmaker Debmaster, Nigerian singer and producer Slimcase, and Kenyan avant pop futurist Kabeaushé. 'Stuttrap' is the first blast of sound we hear, and Olungbenga quickly pilots us into her sonic universe, rapping assertively in Yoruba and English over Scotch Rolex's chrome-plated trap backdrop. It's not far removed from the producer's work with Kenyan/Ugandan underground star MC Yallah, but Aunty Rayzor's incendiary, tongue-twisting raps coax listeners into a musical expression that's hard to define and only gets more expansive when we hit 'Doko'. Featuring Slimcase, who's collaborated with Nigerian superstars like Wizkid and Mr Eazi, this track melts together swinging West African rhythms with complex poetics from both Slimcase and Rayzor. Olungbenga slips into a different mode again on 'Bounce' - one of the album's most dancefloor-ready cuts - almost whispering over a corrosive neo-baile shuffle from DJ Cris Fontedofunk. São Paulo is responsible for some of the world's most effervescent dance music right now, and with Rayzor on vocals the result is predictably explosive, making connections between vital street music from two separate continents. Recent Nyege Nyege signing Titi Bakorta brings Olungbenga into another different zone on 'Fall Back', linking to vintage Afrobeat with low-slung guitar riffs that perfectly compliment Rayzor's soaring vocals. Bakorta's voice is the perfect foil, centering the track in traditions that stretch back through Nigerian history without sounding nostalgic. Kabeaushé hits a similarly complimentary note on 'You not worthy of my love', twisting Rayzor's AutoTune-mangled rhymes into fresh-faced avant R&B that sits a few paces from the mainstream without losing its infectious sing-along quality. And that's the key to unravelling "Viral Wreckage" - Olungbenga is able to be eclectic but sharply focused, bringing in sounds from across a wide world of musical innovation without sacrificing her Nigerian identity. It's an album that's almost effortlessly creative, and one that comes straight from the heart of an artist who's deserves a way larger platform.

Seattle-based producer Jeff McIlwain, aka Lusine, returns with his 9th full-length record, Long Light, marking twenty years since he first joined the Ghostly International roster. A cited influence for myriad electronic artists including London’s Loraine James and others, Lusine is known for visceral, kinetically-curious music that fuses techno, pop, and experimental composition. In recent years, McIlwain has pushed his craft skyward with more collaborative, song-forward work. Long Light shines the throughline; his signature looping patterns and textures are dynamic yet minimalist as ever. Structurally straightforward, tight, and bright, the material radiates as the most direct in his catalog, featuring vocal contributions from Asy Saavedra, Sarah Jaffe, and Sensorimotor collaborators Vilja Larjosto and Benoît Pioulard. Lusine found his sound early on, but he’s never stopped pushing and pulling at its potential, patiently deconstructing the distractions and solving the puzzles. With Long Light, a laser-focused, process-driven artist reaches an exceptionally satisfying level of clarity and immediacy. McIlwain sees the title, taken from the lyrical phrase "long light signaling the fall again,” written by Benoît Pioulard for what became the title track, as a guiding device that reflects several meanings. “There’s this sort of paranoia where you don't know what is real, it's an age of high anxiety and there are all these distractions,” McIlwain explains. “It's like a fun house mirror situation.” Following the long light is the only true way through, and he holds that metaphor to the album’s recording, which also carried a cyclical nature akin to seasons. Like the start of fall, the album completes a period of cultivation; “Music making is a struggle and you have to have a ton of patience.” Long Light is proof that what lies beyond the noise, at the end of the figurative tunnel, is worth all the work it’s taken to get there. Across the collection, McIlwain identifies the core sonic element, a vocal cut or a simple beat sequence, from which to build everything else off. On the opener “Come And Go,” he multiplies a vocal take from longtime collaborator Vilja Larjosto into a celestial choir, evoking their Sensorimotor standout “Just A Cloud.” It’s the bass hook on the single “Zero to Sixty,” curving around the voice of Sarah Jaffe, whose pliable range and cool delivery provide the source for Lusine’s unmistakable mapping. The chorus is Jaffe’s (“cold-blooded”) line repeated in step with melodic synth pulses and the buzzing deep bass. For the verse, McIlwain unlocks the loop and she completes the thought, giving the track a sense of tension and relief. “I feel like I am dreaming / You make me feel like I am walking on a cloud / I don’t ever want to feel the ground,” sings Asy Saavedra (of Chaos Chaos) on “Dreaming.” This time McIlwain keeps the phrase intact, making subtle tweaks to the timbre and texture as chimes, clinks, and snaps oscillate. The album balances vocal pop motifs with some of Lusine’s strongest instrumental expressions, from ambient-minded foreshadowing (“Faceless,” “Plateau,” “Rafters”) to hypnotic head-nodders like “Cut and Cover” and “Transonic.” The latter jumps out as the rhythmic centerpiece; first McIlwain outlines the track’s silhouette before filling in its details one layer at a time. Stuttering synth hums join the kick, then proliferate a step higher, harmonizing at the peak with sparkled bell sounds and a burst of feedback. “Long Light” has it all: Lusine’s percussive mood-building, rendered with samples from drummer Trent Moorman, and a contortion of tender poetry, courtesy of friend Thomas Meluch, aka Benoît Pioulard (Morr Music, Kranky). “This track has a sort of melody that I haven’t really messed with before,” says McIlwain. “It’s this very droney, mysterious thing, that I really liked, and focused on, and kind of counter balanced with a nasty wavetable patch. Tom just absolutely nailed the feel of the song.” It is rare to arrive at a landmark work two decades into one’s craft, but through repetition, refinement, and patience, Lusine extends a defining moment, an essential piece to his discography.

1973s brilliant Celestial Ocean, by the legendary Swiss krautrock band BRAINTICKET, is a concept album that details an ancient pharoahs journey into the afterlife (substitute the word "journey" for "trip" and youll get what they were driving at). However, Brainticket were not mere products of their time, they explored some truly compelling musical territory and produced a superlative blanket of sound-featuring a pioneering mix of early synthesizers, flute, zither, sitar, and male / female stream-of-consciousness spoken word vocals-that ebbs and flows in the same general cosmos as classic Gong. This reissue is fully remastered from the original master tapes.

Over the past seven years, Public Memory’s distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory’s new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world.

As well as releasing post-classical music as Goldmund stretching back nearly two decades, American composer Keith Kenniff also uses the alias Helios to create ambient electronica. ‘Espera’ is Kenniff’s twelfth such album, and introduces a more panoramic and dynamic iteration of Helios, the woozy, hazy compositions taking on the structures and grandeur of post-rock in places.

A charming set of double transformations on this 7 inch. “Kajyadhi Fu Bushi” is a traditional Ryukyu minyo (Okinawa folk song), a joyous celebratory classic which is usually sung at weddings, with lyrics describing how “beautiful buds unfold”, using the distinctive Ryukyu/Okinawan pentatonic scale. Typically performed by a small ensemble of a singer accompanied by sanshin, the Okinawan precursor to the shamisen, the A-side is has been transformed by jazz musician and conductor Jun Arasaki and his group Nine Sheep, with five sanshin, four winds, piano, guitar, bass, percussion and drums. Played only once, unrehearsed but perfect in execution, for a 1977 TV broadcast, this release has been taken from the only recording in existence. The B-side is yet another transformation, a remix by the Portland “fourth world” duo Visible Cloaks.

“YIAN” (燕), means swallow in Chinese, and is part of “Siew Yian,” the name given to Chua by her parents to preserve her connection with her Chinese heritage. Just as the migratory songbird lives between places, so did Chua, the artist living in the in-between of the English, Malaysian and Chinese cultures that make up her heritage. In the absence of Mandarin as a mother tongue, music became a way to express the parts of herself that couldn’t be described in words; “YIAN” emerged as a way to heal.

A deeply introspective and fully realized vessel of creative expression (Chua self-produced and engineered eight of the ten tracks), “YIAN” emerges as less an album than a worldview, a commitment to learning and uncovering one’s own selfhood honed over Chua’s lifelong reconciliation with her own personal history and identity.

Hovering somewhere at the intersection of Nirvana and Neil Young, Rex exploded—or drifted, rather—onto the slowcore scene in the mid-1990s. Taking its cue from bands like Codeine, which drummer Doug Scharin was a part of, Rex managed to synthesize the dynamic eruptions of grunge, twinkling guitars of folk, and sprawling string arrangements of chamber pop on its seminal 1996 album, C. In recording C, Scharin, along with bandmates Curtis Harvey and Phil Sprito, created an untamable and uncategorizable beast. The album’s 11 tracks clock in at an hour and 7 minutes, most often winding from folk warbles to distortion-drenched power chords and back. End-to-end, listening to C feels like being granted access to one of the band’s most unfettered jams.

After wrapping the tracklist for Local Downriver Revival, we knew there was a smaller second record buried in the mountains of tape rescued from Felton Williams’ Ecorse, Michigan, basement. Born at the tail-end of a Depression that darkened the entire United States, Shirley Ann Lee took her talent as a singer and pianist from a grim, overcrowded house in Toledo, Ohio, to a glamorous, gospel-fueled adolescence on the road and in Nashville. It wasn’t until her return to Toledo after a disastrous marriage in Los Angeles that, for the first time in almost two decades of public performances, she found the urge to praise God with her own words. As the Revival label’s lone “star,” Shirley Ann Lee was afforded dozens of opportunities to record her songs, but only six sides managed to trickle out on 45 between 1967 and 1969. Using Revival’s aborted Shirley Ann Lee Radio Hour program as our guide, we’ve taken the best of her proper studio recordings, in-the-moment sketches, out-of-tune piano demos, and rehearsals with young kids talking in the background and created the Shirley Ann Lee album that never was. A one-LP revival of an unheralded gospel giant that is sure to convert the non-believers.

Born and raised in the deep outskirts of Mexico City, the Gama brothers are keeping alive the rich legacy of marimba music running through their family with their latest project, Son Rompe Pera. While firmly rooted in the tradition of this historic instrument, their fresh take on the folk icon challenges its limits as never before, moving it into the garage/punk world of urban misfits and firmly planting it in the 21st century. Originally performing alongside their father at local events as kids, they now find themselves at the forefront of the contemporary international cumbia scene with their sonic explorations of the classic marimba. Their absolutely unique blend comes from a typical youthful rebellion, when as teenagers they left behind their upbringing and began to play in various punk, rockabilly and ska bands. Now they’ve gone full circle with the return of the marimba on lead, and mixing all of their influences together with an energetic take on the popular instrument, giving it a new twist never before seen in Mexican folk music. Formed in 2017, Son Rompe Pera broke onto the potent cumbia scene of today as the marimba duo of brothers Jesús Ángel and Allan Gama (Kacho and Mongo), who inherited this tradition from their father, Batuco. A marimba player by trade, he taught them to play and understand the marimba, which they first used to revive old folk songs for their friends, family, and passers-by on the street. They then incorporated it into the performance of popular Mexican cumbia songs, while spicing things up with an animated identity of their own, creating rhythms of an imaginary repertoire that grows, spreads, and connects the Americas with every passing year. In their own words: “The basics of Son Rompe Pera have been developing since we were kids, and the music and streets are in our blood. We found the markets flooded with old, forgotten folk music, and so as kids we decided to carry the marimba with us and create this musical project from our own roots, mixing in rhythms which we thought would never be musical brothers, like cumbia, punk, and the sounds of our barrios and our everyday lives.”

Sacramento, CA duo Blank Gloss’s third album, Cornered, is an exquisite statement of pop ambient starkness, an album that oscillates between lush beauty and spare melancholy. It follows from their 2021 debut for Kompakt, Melt, an album that saw Morgan Fox (piano, synths) and Patrick Hills (guitar) aligned, loosely, with the cosmic pastorale of the ‘ambient Americana’ movement. Cornered feels like a significant step forward, though – by peeling back the layers of their music, they’ve revealed both its restful core and its solemn gravitas. It is unendingly lovely, but with something disquieting at its centre. Cornered was recorded quickly, over two days in December 2020. There’s nothing rushed or haphazard about the album, though; everything has its place, with each sonic element contributing profoundly to these nine miniature dioramas. It signals change, quietly but perceptibly, through the way the duo sculpts their material, building out of loose improvisations that morphed into songs. While there was no plan in mind when Blank Gloss settled into the studio, Fox recalls that “right away we realised that things were sounding and feeling a bit different than any of the sessions we had previously.” That difference can be heard in the increased amount of space Blank Gloss gift to their sound sources. Some of the most moving moments on Cornered come when Fox and Hills strip everything back – see, for example, “Crossing”, which sets pensive piano across a shyly humming drone and quiet arcs of guitar, recalling the driftworks of Roger Eno. Curiously, the album’s distinctive shape and mood develops, at least in part, from a change in instrumentation, with Hills using a MIDI pick-up on his guitar. “This resulted in making things happen a lot quicker,” Fox says. “It also helped create what I think is a bit more sombre, dark feeling to some of the songs.” Elsewhere, on songs like “Salt”, the piano tussles with flecks of guitar, single tones sent out to mingle with the stars, like Morricone at 16 RPM, while Cornered’s centrepiece, the eleven-minute “No Appetite”, lets long arcs of electronic texture breathe and sigh, tangling together in a cat’s cradle of bliss. Throughout, it feels as though the music is blossoming as you hear it, like watching time-lapse footage of flora in bloom. But perhaps the most seductive thing about Cornered is the sense you get, listening, that the music was something unexpected, a visitation. “It almost felt like we weren’t dictating where the music went and how it sounded,” Fox agrees. “We were just there in a room together in December and these sounds were happening, and we were lucky enough to be recording the process.”

Demdike Stare reunite with guitarist Jon Collin for a new album of concréte dreamweaving performed on tape, pedals and a homemade Swedish nyckelharpa - a type of keyed fiddle. More psychedelic than either of the trio's previous records, 'Minerals' drops the blues to dive headfirst into the smudged folk wellspring, touching on the pastoral ambience of Andrew Chalk via Loren Connors’ immersive drift and Tongue Depressor's subterranean drone expeditions. With the trio all hailing from the Pennine moorlands just above the manc sprawl, Jon Collin & Demdike Stare’s shared musical expression understandably reflects a parallax purview that follows leylines between lusher nooks of the inner city and windswept, barren landscapes. Never ones to play it straight, the Swedish Nyckelharpa - a sort of hybrid viola/hurdy gurdy - is deployed deep into a mix of oblique soundscaping, seeping into a swirl of field recordings, screwed spoken word and phosphorescent drones pinging with tape delay. Split into two distinct sides, the album opens with a scrape of wood and metal that introduces us to the nyckelharpa. Scratching its surface and strings, Collin reveals its peculiar tonality, while Demdike cut through its dissonant textures. Like ancient campfire rituals recorded to decaying 1/4" tape, the music on ‘Minerals’ feels as if it's in dialog with the past, shuttled into the present by abstract processes. By the side’s third act, resonant gongs billow around pitched wails that eventually collapse into silence. The second side is more spirited, opening with a thumbed kalimba cut through reverberant strings that recall Arthur Russell's iconic echo-drenched recordings. Through elaborate concréte techniques, Collin's ancient fiddle dissolves into a ferric gloop that’s slowly pulled apart like toffee, taking it to a place where you can no longer really tell what you’re listening to or how it was made. In fact, unlike pretty much everything we’ve heard from Demdike before, the material here feels mechanical rather than electronic, making for one of the most impactful, unusual releases in the vast sprawl of their catalogue thus far.

Tracked in 1977, this bundle of never-before-released basement demos throw Harris’ beloved Philadelphia Sound into an unfinished root cellar, pelting it with Clavinet attacks, disco skats, and infectious hooks. Named for the street address of its underground uptown genesis, 1514 Oliver Avenue (Basement) is James “Jimmy Jam” Harris’ first foray into songcraft and an organic Minneapolis-vintage alternative to a late ’70s Prince songbook gone increasingly synthetic.

Having crested the west coast modular-ambient wave in just a few releases- including 2018's Sharing Waves on the influential LA experimental imprint Leaving Records- Sean Hellfritsch has swapped the mossy analog synth improvisations of his prior output for refined melodic arrangements dressed in sprightly dawn-of-digital textures. Big Earth Energy plumbs the depths of Hellfritsch's multimedia mind and naturalist heart, spinning an impressionistic narrative world off of cultural touchstones like the PC game MYST, and the work of Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. Inspired by the aforementioned, and guided by Hellfritsch's experience as an animator and filmmaker, Big Earth Energy is the soundtrack to a hypothetical video game with a pointedly ecological premise, and a twist of psychedelic charm. In Hellfritsch's imagined virtual journey, the player assumes the perspective of a treefrog sixty-five-million years ago, hopping epochs with each new level, forming a comprehensive picture of the massive hanges the planet has gone through over the eons. The ultimate goal of the game is not to amass resources, defeat enemies, or gain power, but to fully witness the unfolding of one of the biggest systems of energy imaginable- or as the album's creator puts it- "to explore the incomprehensibly vast energetic expression and mystery that is Earth." Big Earth Energy is steeped in exploratory RPG intrigue, possibility, and contemplation, lovingly overlaid with Miyazaki-an sentiments and aesthetics. The through-composed, organic, meandering synthesis heard on previous Cool Maritime albums has been fully replaced by meticulous polygonal arrangements that recall the computerized sheen of late 80s work by composers like Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Yoichiro Yoshikawa- using true-to-period gear no less. Even given it's referentiality, Big Earth Energy comes off as forward-facing where so much reminiscent music remains fixed to a bygone moment in pop culture. Hellfritsch has created a musical world where the endless verdancy of the biosphere finds it's parallel in the golden age of early 1990s video games, and late 80s Japanese environmental music, all while pointing to a hopeful planetary and artistic future that vindicates the motives of all of these muses.

As one of the very few true 'Godfathers' of Ambient Music, Laraaji has forged a unique path forward (always, always forward) since his groundbreaking 1980 LP for Eno's Ambient label, "DAY OF RADIANCE'. It remains one of the eternal pillars of the genre. His extraordinary contributions to modern music over the course of four decades highlight his lifelong dedication to the belief that Peace can be achieved through audio serenity. Kramer's work in Ambient Music is less universally known, but no less pioneering. His most recent Shimmy-Disc LP, 'Music For Films Edited by Moths', suggests that his immersion in the genre is now complete. Cerebral yet simple, intoxicating yet tranquil, Kramer's newest and more elusive body of work gently heralds what lies ahead. His commitment to quiet music is complete. LARAAJI & KRAMER - "AMBIENT SYMPHONY #1" is the first window into their collective muse - a collaborative LP of shimmering clarity and vision, defying all expectations for the fans of each of these two diversely pioneering artists. Containing three 'Movements' (along with an additional 4th Movement on the digital release), this first Ambient Symphony is a beatific exercise in the sublime, unfolding dreams to waking life. Quiet music has never been so colorfully detailed, or so nakedly honest. Ambient Music has a new beginning.

Kate NV’s WOW offers listeners a prismatic shift in perspective and scale, a parallel dimension in which the mundane becomes funny, unfamiliar, and altogether sensational. Turning the contents of her 2020 album Room for the Moon upside down and spilling it across a floor checkered with intrigue and surprise, Kate places sound, object, and ritual under the microscope to magnify the delight hidden in plain sight of everyday life.

This five LP box includes the Karate's Unsolved, Some Boots, and Pockets albums, a first time vinyl pressing of their Cancel/Sing EP, and recently unearthed rehearsal recordings of two unreleased tracks.

There are hundreds of bootlegs out there to sate the ravenous soulero set, and so often they incorporate songs in the vast Numero catalog. Rather than beat them, Numero joins them with our answer to the iconic East Side Story series. Eschewing our classic look and standard-bearing copious notes for sardonic artwork and impeccable selections, Numbero is proud to present a ‘bootleg’ you can be proud of (because it’s all licensed). This time we’ve set our sights on the most unique of soul cultures: the irreplicable melting pot of San Antonio. Included here are all songs never before issued other than in minuscule pressings on 45, never distributed outside of Bexar County limits.

The Southwest Side Story rolas are obscure everywhere in the United States while eliciting intense nostalgia on the South and West Sides of San Antonio to this day. This could be a greatest hits of DJs like Henry Pena, who began his rein in the ’60s and continues it today with many of these same selections. Including such local luminaries as the Royal Jesters, Sonny Ace, the Dreamliners, Al Castana, Dino Bazan & the Dell Tones, George Jay & the Rockin’ Ravens, the Eptones, the Volumes, and Henry Pena, who never fully disappeared from view in the Alamo City.

Back in 2016, producer Seth Applebaum released two EPs that marked the inauguration of the band Ghost Funk Orchestra. ‘Night Walker’ and ‘Death Waltz’ were conceived as one-man-band, reel-to-reel tape recorded experiments that would bring together elements of all the sounds that Seth most adored at the time: tape-saturated drums, gratuitous spring reverb, surfy guitar, Latin-style percussion, odd time signatures, and Spanish-language female vocals. Initially released only in the digital domain and on a short run of cassette tapes, these two EPs that defined the early era of GFO are now finally available together on a single LP via Colemine Records. The tracks have been lovingly remastered by Doug Krebs. We invite you to take a dive into the humble beginnings of a project that has continued to grow, shape shift, and accrue new and exciting sounds for its sonic palette.

The Endless Coloured Ways is a collection of songs by legendary singer/songwriter, Nick Drake, performed and recorded by over 30 incredible artists from a range of different backgrounds, genres, age groups and audiences. From Fontaines D.C. to Guy Garvey, Aurora to Feist, and Self-Esteem to David Gray, each artist has offered their own incredible take on a timeless classic"Nick Drake was not that concerned with promoting himself as an artist but I think he would have been overjoyed to hear his art promoted by so many vibrant and talented artists such as the ones we approached. Each track is an example of a fellow artist adopting Nick's art as if it was their own, submitting to the song, and the results prove to me that talent can so often win out over mere skill or 'personality'. We are honoured and so grateful to all our friends, old and new, who took part in the making of this set." - Cally Calloman, Bryter Music"Having initially exchanged a list of our favourite artists and realised how much our tastes overlapped, Cally and I set out on this venture with one simple brief - to ask the artists to ignore the original recording of Nick's in terms of arrangement, production and singing style; basically we were asking them to reinvent the song. First of all it was humbling to hear so many similar responses, saying how important Nick's music was to them, and how much they wanted to be part of this project. But as the results came in one by one, we were staggered by the brilliance and invention that each artist had shown. They had done what we asked - they had made the song their own." - Jeremy Lascelles, Chrysalis Records