MUSIC
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Since debuting his Khotin project in 2014, Edmonton’s Dylan Khotin-Foote has fine-tuned an impressionistic, dream-like style of music that straddles multiple sonic worlds. His output often sways from gentle synthesized atmospherics to hypnotic, dance-minded frameworks. His self-released 2018 LP, Beautiful You, offered a study on melody and memory; the album’s nostalgia-nudging use of passing environments, voices, and abstractions captivated a cult following, a rare 4.5 review in Resident Advisor and the attention of Ghostly International, who pressed the cassette on vinyl for wider circulation in 2019. Now, Khotin reveals his first collection of new material since the signing. The album is a fluid continuation of his blissful and melancholic songcraft, extended humbly and warmly, Finds You Well.
As tongue-in-cheek as the title may appear, the phrase has haunted the producer for some time. Most often seen at the start of correspondence, the words “I hope this email finds you well” can land with varying levels of sincerity, depending on context and mood. Khotin-Foote started to read the line more ominously during the onset of the pandemic. So, this set of music winks at both possibilities, mixing a platitude’s opaque optimism with lurking uncertainty.
Finds You Well can be heard in near-symmetrical halves: its 10 tracks represent the selections from a bounty of demos that, with less modesty, could have filled two records, one active and the other ambient. The resulting set isn’t an even split but it’s close. The A-side centers on the album’s steadiest sequence of beat-centric material. “Ivory Tower” is inextricably tied to benchmarks set by late ‘90s downtempo forerunners, spilling lucious and narcotic synth modulations across a sprinkler’s spray of breakbeats. Khotin’s sprightly melodic noodling brings that touchstone sound into vogue, bubbling up in free-form spurts. The sequence continues through the propulsive “Heavyball,” into “Groove 32,” which begins with a funky bit-clipped drum and bongo boogie. A tight bass-line plugs into place, building a grid for square-wave pads, shimmering melodic textures, and stuttering vocal samples to percolate in.
Khotin’s tone stabilizes on the B-side, balancing decidedly bucolic terrain with suspiciously eerie melancholy. Voices wander in the sprawling frequency sweeps. Organic textures sizzle and sputter in the clouds. “WEM Lagoon Jump” references local West Edmonton folklore, the time a kid jumped from a shopping mall's second-floor balcony into the main pavilion’s fountain. After the splash, we land in the record’s most satisfying stasis, “Your Favorite Building.” A brittle clave and muffled kick hover in a wobbly mist of organ chords; the building is gorgeous, but seen at night, and empty, and from this angle, those shadows seem to crop up more of those subdued tremors, those nostalgic creeps, those droll musings. From behind a wall of melody, a kid peeks their head and softly sings, “you must love the world because it’s wonderful,” the vocal snippet comes courtesy of Khotin-Foote’s sister, Amaris.
For much of Find You Well’s second half, Khotin dabbles in a dusty and slightly detuned piano sound, revealing an artist unafraid to change shapes but maintain course. This set of chimeric visions sidesteps the subdued bombast that fills the A-side; instead, it suggests a counterpoint emphasizing the uncanny overlap between well wishes and empty promises.
Released in 1972 and long out of reach, Belle Gonzalez’s only album is one of those rare records that feels like a secret passed from hand to hand. Her voice is gentle yet full of presence, carrying songs that drift between British folk and the soft sway of Brazilian rhythms. It’s music that feels both of its time and strangely timeless, the kind of record you play once and then can’t forget. After decades in obscurity, Belle finally returns, restored with care and ready to be heard the way it always should have been.
One of the best Italian Library jams on the Edipan label. An inspired musical interpretation of mid '70s young America with spacey Funk/Breaks and strung-out Italian sounds of the period. An essential grail and top of the top dusty fingers / music producers / beat makers / sample hunters record.
Italian FunkY Library true classic! - What we have here is a Remigio Ducros and Luciano Simoncini (Arawak, Jason Black, etc.) sure shot and fantastic record for those who are into the classic Simoncini/Ducros sound and generally into the groovy Italian Library sounds. Very reminiscent of the "Accadde A.." and Jason Black recordings. What you can expect are tightly knitted and compressed drums, stoned flute sections, shouting horns, Fender Rhodes Piano, heavy basslines and that signature spacey Wah Wah guitar that's on all of the earlier Simoncini recordings. Variations on the Sgambetto - Sgambata theme from LA PALLA E' ROTONDA / stoned "Accadde A.." styled flute / amazing Hip-Hop beats / 'popping' percussion, Fender bass & piano etc. Daniela Casa is probably the girl playing all the Wah Wah and cosmic Fuzz distortions. Booming Italian Library production - loads of mellow grooves, samples and inspired beats. GREAT for DJs!
Jamaica's national treasure. Legendary Jamaican Jazz.
Internationally acclaimed guitarist Ernest Ranglin with piano genius Leslie Butler in a dazzling quartet. Recorded in 1965.
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Ernest Ranglin is a guitar player who represents Jamaica as well as one of the forefront personals who took Jamaican music to the world. As an arranger and a musical director, he contributed with his talent in the development of Jamaican music, including Ska and Reggae, from the origins. Musicians who have started their career at the time, still look up to him as a mentor and pay their respects. The internationally acclaimed guitarist Ernest Ranglin is currently pursuing his career without any musical boundaries at the age of over 80.
'Barons Court' is the debut full length album by Canadian electroacoustic composer Sarah Davachi, following short run releases on Important Records’ Cassauna imprint and Full Spectrum. Trained at Mills College, Davachi’s work marries an academic approach to synthesis and live instrumentation with a preternatural attunement to timbre, pacing, and atmosphere. While the record employs a number of vintage and legendary synthesizers, including Buchla’s 200 and Music Easel, an EMS Synthi, and Sequential Circuits' Prophet 5, Davachi’s approach to her craft here is much more in line with the longform textural minimalism of Eliane Radigue than it is with the hyper-dense modular pyrotechnics of the majority of her synthesist contemporaries. Three of the album’s five compositions feature acoustic instrumentation (cello, flute, harmonium, oboe, and viola, played by Davachi and others) which is situated alongside a battery of keyboards and synths and emphasizes the composerly aspect of her work. “heliotrope” slowly billows into being with a low, keeling drone that is gradually married to an assortment of sympathetic, aurally complex sounds to yield a rich fantasia of beat frequencies and overtones. Later, “wood green” opens almost inaudibly, with lovely eddies of subtly modulating synth clouds evolving effortlessly into something much larger, as comforting and familiar as it is expansive. In an era in which the synthesizer inarguably dominates the topography of experimental music, Davachi’s work stands alone - distinctive, patient, and beautiful.
Feed Like Fishes is Should's first full-length record — an album of noisy, sedate, and minimal pop songs. Falling somewhere between shoegazer, slowcore, and postrock, Feed Like Fishes is a wonderfully complicated record that echoes the sounds of Yo La Tengo, Slowdive, Bedhead, and Galaxie 500. The album also includes Should's take on The Wedding Present song "Spangle."
The album begins with "Fish Fourteen," a fuzzed-out lo-fi instrumental inspired by Colin Newman's instrumental solo record, Provisionally Entitled The Singing Fish. "Sarah Missing" fits perfectly with the work on Should's A Folding Sieve album, with its unforgettable vocal chorus awash in shoegazing delight.
"It Still Would" and "It's Pull Is Slight" are moderately-paced indie rock tunes that bring to mind Bedhead, the latter song featuring a parade of bells throughout its extended coda.
"Memdrive" encircles whispered vocals with gliding bass and guitar lines in the spirit of Main's early work. Should also explore Apollo-era Brian Eno on "Inst2" substituting heavy analog-delayed guitar notes for Eno's keyboards.
"Both Eyes Open" ends the record with a nod to the melodious, delicate side of Yo La Tengo with Marc and Tanya's coupled vocals going down as sweet as sugar.
Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.
Jim Jarmusch and Anika first crossed paths at the Sacred Bones 15th Anniversary celebration in 2022, where both Anika and SQÜRL performed. Jim was immediately struck by Anika’s performance, while Anika admired Jim as a mentor who had stayed true to his unique vision throughout his career. This mutual respect led to a creative collaboration, which culminated in the haunting soundtrack for Jarmusch’s film Father Mother Sister Brother.
Jim first invited Anika to record a cover of Jackson Browne’s “These Days,” inspired by Nico’s iconic version. This fully arranged track, prepared by Anika and featuring the Kaleidoskop string quartet, was recorded in Berlin and appears as a bonus track on the album as “These Days (Berlin Version).” Jim later mixed a more minimal version of the song, adding several electric guitar tracks. While in Berlin, Jim revealed to Anika that the only preexisting track in the film would be Dusty Springfield’s “Spooky.” Anika, who had performed a live version, suggested they cover it. The stripped-back version they created featuring just vocals, upright bass, finger snaps, and a distorted organ riff was chosen to open the film’s credits.
Beyond these covers, much of the film’s score was born out of improvisation. Jim and Anika spent hours improvising together, leading to a second round of recordings in Berlin, where Anika played Wurlitzer and electric guitar and Jim contributed affected electric guitars. Upon returning to New York, Jim shaped these recordings into the short, evocative instrumental pieces that became the film’s score. The very final touches were completed during a residency Jim and Anika spent together in Paris via the Pompidou Center.
The music for Father Mother Sister Brother is an experimental, collaborative soundscape, not meant to center around or define a single character. Instead, it’s atmospheric, like the air invisibly surrounding the characters.
In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.
Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.
Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytum comosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”
But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.
The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.
“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.
Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.
Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’s new renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.
-Andy Beta
Alan Vega’s self-titled debut solo album, originally released in 1980, marked a bold new chapter for one of New York’s most influential and uncompromising voices.
On his solo debut, Vega dove headfirst into the roots of his personal sound, fueled by blues, rockabilly, and his enduring love for Elvis Presley. Stripped of Suicide’s confrontational electronics but retaining Vega’s outsider energy and voice, the album translates early rock 'n roll through an art-punk filter and stands as a cult masterpiece in its own right. Minimalist, haunting, and deeply personal, it carved out a unique place in the underground canon.
Now available as a limited deluxe double LP edition, this definitive reissue pairs the newly remastered original album with a second disc of previously unheard early demos, offering a rare glimpse into the raw creative process behind this cult classic, and alternate artwork exclusive to this pressing. Alan Vega Deluxe Edition is a companion piece that sheds new light on Vega’s process and vision during this pivotal era, making it a must-have for collectors and longtime fans.
Alan Vega’s self-titled debut solo album was released in 1980 during the same period Suicide released their second album, Suicide: Alan Vega and Martin Rev. While Suicide’s label ZE Records was interested in pushing the duo toward a synthetic disco sound inspired by Moroder’s production on Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love,” Vega felt a pull in a different direction. He wanted to dig deeper into the roots of his own sonic identity, fueled by rockabilly, early rock n roll, and his enduring love for Elvis Presley. Filling the gaps between recording with Suicide, and fleshing out the songs he was writing on his own, Vega started to create his first record and performing live to develop this sound.
As with his visual art, Vega layered sound in a minimalist, dynamic and intentional way. The result was a fiercely singular album built from raw materials and deeply rooted in Vega’s artistic vision. Tracks like the classic anthem “Jukebox Babe” with its jiving rhythm and minimalist swagger, captured that approach completely and went on to become a hit in France. “Kung Foo Cowboy” takes on a southern twist, strongly leaning into the blues, while the golden pop shine of “Ice Drummer” rings in melodic yet plaintive vocals, marching drums and a tasteful harmonica solo. “Bye Bye Bayou” is a haunted slice of mutant rockabilly that fuses 50s rock with Vega’s eccentric performance style and was later reimagined in the 2009 cover by LCD Soundsystem, introducing Vega’s solo work to a new generation. Similarly, The Flaming Lips’s 1994 cover of “Ice Drummer” paid homage to Vega’s outsider spirit.
Now remastered by Josh Bonati from the original tapes and available on streaming services for the first time, Alan Vega has been faithfully reissued by Sacred Bones Records, preserving the raw intensity of Vega’s original recordings while making them newly accessible to listeners around the world.
Alan Vega is more than a solo debut, it’s a declaration of artistic independence and freedom from one of New York’s most influential and uncompromising artists. Stripped of Suicide’s intense electronics yet retaining Vega’s outsider energy and edge, the album translates early rock 'n roll through an art-punk filter that stands the test of time as a cult masterpiece in its own right.
