MUSIC

Une pièce nue, trois nuits dans le studio de Salif Keita. Sissoko et Segal ont chassé de leur esprit tout ce qui peut éloigner un musicien de son art pour se concentrer sur l’essentiel : l’entrelacement de leurs chants intérieurs.

One bare room, three recording sessions in Salif Keita's studio. Sissoko and Segal chased out of their minds everything that can distance a musician from his art to concentrate on the essence: the interlacing of their inner song.

We have repeatedly surprised you with unusual releases that sound uncharacteristic for wellknown artists Remember Merzbow with guitars, synth (almost said synth-pop) and drum machine? Well, Muslimgauze's turn came up. Emak Bakia – long out of print masterpieces from 1994. Even in the huge Bryn Jones' discography Emak Bakia really stands out of albums from the period due its rather unique (house-music related) sound and short, by the standards of Bryn Jones, tracks. Like a crossmix between Psychic TV (circa Towards Thee Infinite Beat) and Muslimgauze's trademark percussion and eastern vibes.

Los Angeles producer and artist Nosaj Thing AKA Jason W. Chung returns with his fifth album, Continua - featuring a stellar ensemble cast including HYUKOH, Toro y Moi, Kazu Makino (Blonde Redhead), serpentwithfeet, Sam Gendel, Coby Sey, Julianna Barwick, Mike Andrews, Slauson Malone, Pink Siifu, Panda Bear & Eyedress.

Nosaj Thing's expertise is in crafting exquisite soundscapes that hold a mirror up to his journey from noise and punk shows at DIY venue The Smell, to his debut sets at Low End Theory, to touring with The xx and The Weeknd. Throughout, he has innovated with a live experiences conceived with Tokyo-based AV savant Daito Manabe. Chung's music carries such visceral humanity it feels like a disservice to refer to the 'mood' which pervades his records. But it's exactly that distinct mood which has made Nosaj Thing such a cult artists across his 16-year-deep discography.

French guitarist Mischa Fitzgerald Michel, who studied under Jim Hall, covers the genius SSW Nick Drake, who died young, on this 2012 release. A hidden masterpiece revived in the modern era with unparalleled beauty, refined harmonies and proper interpretation.

‘Cupo’ is the debut album of gothic folkways and dark jazz rituals enacted by prolific percussionist Valentina Magaletti and enigmatic spirit Laila Sakini, deploying an orchestra-sized ensemble of instruments into a 10-part movement spread over two seamless sides. Ghostly and completely transfixing material, it sounds like a pitch-black reduction of Talk Talk's ‘Spirit of Eden’ crumbling into Julee Cruise's ‘Floating into the Night’. An ode to DIY culture and improvisation, Cupo marks a turning point and coming together of two of London’s most imaginative figures. The project sprung to life after Magaletti, versatile drummer-composer for a myriad projects including Moin, Tomaga, Holy Tongue and CZN, asked singular singer-songwriter/art explorer Sakini to contribute to an album that quickly developed into a separate project in its own right. Initiated under a title meaning ‘dark’ in Italian, Sakini plays trumpet, flute, harmonica, recorder, vocals, bass, strings and piano, while Magaletti adds acoustic guitar, spoken word, bass, and drums, pitched down to match the sunken swag of Sakini’s voice. ‘Cupo’ oozes a sense of theatrical dramaturgy that feels like two players in a staged psychodrama. The pair’s exquisite twists of light and space enhance the sensation of peering in from the dark of the stalls, scenes mysteriously changing on stage. The opening hums with nervous energy, the vast sweep of possibility - things could go in so many different directions - concrète, free jazz, doom noise, forest folk, trip hop - who fucking knows. Magaletti's drums gain momentum, cutting into the void like a snare roll in the middle of a trapeze act, or the din from the orchestral pit in an old cinema. Staggered bass and pitched trumpet are thrown into the mix, the deep thrum of subs, a heartbeat, shapeless words, flute, lost fragments of chamber music, piano keys wafting in from outside. Just as things feel irrevocably shapeless, all the elements coalesce, Sakini’s voice and a recorder flip the mood. We’re in smokey, weird pop mode - just the thing we were hoping for. The spirit of post-prog/proto-shoegaze hangs in the air, but the music isn't quite so specific. Pop dissolves into jazz, ambient passages cut into rickety blues, then scuffed into DIY art noise. The linking thread is always the duo's creative energy, providing a space for each to explore, without overwhelming the other. Gentle, fierce music from two of the very best in the game right now.

It's by some strange inversion that since his untimely death in 1999 Bryn Jones' Muslimgauze project has become evermore enigmatic as his publicly available recordings have become evermore vast. The Mancunian artist's sudden passing at the age of 37 prematurely resolved a body of work that remains as experimental as it is diffuse, with an informal archive that was left spread between favoured labels and confidantes. And though this monadic project never abided by genre specifications, it all feels as if it is taking the critical pulses of its time and rendering them into something other than the sum of its obscure compulsions. Jones' double album 'Veiled Sisters' from 1993 is no exception, and it persists as a magnificent outlier in his singular and bewildering discography. Originally released by the label Soleilmoon, an early and lifelong supporter of Jones' work along with Staalplaat, the album is a notable example of the uniquely recombinant fragility and fervour of Jones' work. This 3LP edition marks the album's first appearance on vinyl. Like much of the Muslimgauze catalogue, 'Veiled Sisters' is dedicated to the Palestine Liberation Organization, with its two halves—Sister One and Sister Two—calling on the history and conflicts of the modern Islamic world through opaque titles and snatches of musical oration. Forgoing the raucous timbre and abrasion that Jones could occasionally employ, this album balances a medley of shrill instrumental bursts with a complex patterning of ambient atmospheres. 'Veiled Sisters' moves with a hypnotic gait across its extended runtime with a dynamic ensemble of electronics grounded in a pulsing yet evasive combination of low-slung kicks and dub-soaked bass. The hissy wash of drums, both played and machined, decorate a restless patina all over, and the cacophony of samples send impressions scattershot into Jones' idiosyncratic yet readymade psychedelia. With a quiet intensity that is not often captured this succinctly in the Muslimgauze catalogue, this new edition of 'Veiled Sisters' is a reminder of the haunting wonder that Jones was capable of manifesting.

NTS DJ, label boss and fabled collector Howard Williams lands on DDS with an etheric communique under his Japan Blues moniker, inspired by early C.20th Min'yō folk and avant-dub, richly spirited with field recordings and ghostly ephemera. Six years since his debut Japan Blues album ‘Sells His Record Collection’, Williams is back - and it’s been worth the wait. Based around enka and minyo recordings made with London based singer Akari Mochizuki and Tsugaru shamisen master Hibiki Ichikawa at London’s Earthworks studio back in 2018, Williams adds field recordings made while traveling through Japan, inviting The Dengie Hundred to co-produce, bringing his own sound worlds into the mix. The two spent several months shuttling ideas back and forth, processing mixes and adding environmental recordings, like snatched penny whistle melodies or the familiar whirr of an extractor fan. Singer Tamami Pearl is the final piece of the puzzle, providing an almost imperceptibly breathy aura to proceedings. The obsessively researched archivist’s resolve is still very much present, but the processing style and overall sound here is more faded than the Japan Blues of yore, transmuting discernible sounds into magickal textures that boil and bubble until all that’s left is vapour. On 'Sazanka, Hokkai Bon Uta', Japanese vocals are dubbed into bare syllables, juxtaposed with flute improvisations and muddy whirrs. Eventually, the instrumental elements turn to noise, like some shortwave radio transmission slowly falling out of range. Environmental sounds become uneven, clunking percussive currents offer a sort of dream logic, morphing into faint choirs. In the final third, Williams pulls away the veil almost entirely. The album's most compelling section is the side-long 'Soran, AIzu Bandai-San, Shimabara Lullaby'. If you've heard Robert Turman's 1981 album "Flux" - a reel-to-reel recorded slo-mo kalimba and piano masterpiece - you'll have an idea of how this one rolls. Williams and The Dengie Hundred work into the source material like modelling clay, dubbing and distorting shamisen twangs and echoing vocals into half-speed, dissociated dream visions. It's not Ambient by any means, but there are undoubtedly traces of Brian Eno's earliest, most crucial experiments. It's not Folk music either, but Williams' deep obsession with Japanese traditions allows him to integrate sounds holistically, provoking a conversation rather than simply cherry picking aesthetic decorations. He works like a dedicated DJ, giving The Dengie Hundred room to tweak the spaces in-between. Together, they create an atmosphere that's fiendishly hard to put into words, and even harder to forget. If you're into tape-damaged industrial experiments (think Skaters, Spencer Clark, Aaron Dilloway et al), the surrealist global exploration of labels like Stroom, or simply after a new perspective on Japanese folkways, "Japan Blues Meets The Dengie Hundred" is unmissable.

Dominique Lawalrée (b. 1954) is a composer born and based in Brussels. First Meeting is Lawalrée's first archival release to date. Culled from four different albums originally self-published on his private label Editions Walrus, circa 1978-1982, this compilation highlights the composer's unique sense of ambient and minimal composition. Originally considered for release on Brian Eno's Obscure Records, Lawalrée's music is now no longer hidden. 

In this collection the listener finds the sounds of piano, synthesizers, percussion, wurlitzer, organ, and voice, all performed by Lawalrée. Using these tools Dominique creates miniature themes that gallop across the speakers in slow motion, stretching our normal sense of dynamics and color, effortlessly widening the stereo plane. On “Musique Satieerique,” Dominique pays homage to the influence of Satie with simple repeated piano figures and a lush field of organs and flutes. And on other selections, like “Le Maison Des 5 Elements,” he takes a more wistful, ambient approach, layering keyboard lines, and invoking found/tape sounds to create a hypnogogic world of his own. Childlike in its playfulness and surreal to the bone, the music spins like a carrousel placed inside the Rothko Chapel. Lawalrée’s sense of timbre, tone, and overarching composition is like an impression of a home movie whose charm lies in its knowledge of intimacy, shared by few. An incantation of innocence. 

"a quiet, understated music that is both touching and elegant" - Gavin Bryars 

A masterpiece of the schooner rock variety, Black and White Raven is an album that emerged from Archie James Cavanaugh’s youthful dream of recording his own music while stuck in the Alaskan wilderness. “This dream was always elusive,” Cavanaugh said, “believing either that it was only meant for those famous artists who got picked up by major record labels, or that it was just too impossible to achieve because of cost and lack of know-how.” With a freewheeling cast culled from Archie’s travels around the Pacific Northwest, Black and White Raven was set down as the ’70s crested and self-released in the spring of 1980. Traces of disco, AM gold, gospel, and yacht mixed freely with his Tlingit heritage, creating a breezy and optimistic portrait of life in the 49th state.

2022年度リプレス。アメリカのインディ・ロック・バンド、Bedheadが1998年2月10日に〈Trance Syndicate Records〉に残した3枚目のスタジオ・アルバムが〈Numero〉からアナログ・リイシュー。Steve Albiniがエンジニアを務めた本バンド唯一のレコードであり、前作よりもアップテンポで激しく歪んだサウンドを披露したスロウコア/オルタナティヴ・ロックの傑作！

Who do we become when we live our dreams? It's all here - the high hairdos, the dreams and schemes, the tender camp, the wedding bell fantasias and chaste tragedies. Sister acts, studio receptionists, classmates, angelic voices of the 1960s; some legendary, many hidden in the basement of expired rainbows.

The third installment of Numero’s ode to lowrider souldies, Rust Side Story compiles highly sought after sweet soul singles from the Buck Eye State. Prepare for a low and slow ride from Youngstown to Dayton, Cleveland to Columbus, Toledo to Cincinnati, all soundtracked with silky falsettos and dreamy harmonies.

On 29th September 2017, Iglooghost will release his debut album “Neō Wax Bloom”, almost two years to the day since he made his debut as a teenager on Flying Lotus’s Brainfeeder imprint with the “Chinese Nü Year” EP - four tracks documenting the time-traveling adventures of a gelatinous worm-shaped creature called Xiangjiao. Expanding on this story, “Neō Wax Bloom” follows the events surrounding two giant eyeballs crashing into the mysterious world of Mamu. Across its 11 tracks, Iglooghost builds a typically intense, hysterical, borderline batshit crazy soundtrack, introducing new characters to his fantastical world and inviting back old friends Mr. Yote and Cuushe for the ride.

In the words of Iglooghost:

“When a pair of giant eyeballs crash into the strange, misty world of Mamu, the mysterious forces that govern nature itself are disrupted. A life cycle of transforming creatures is thrown off balance, and the odd looking inhabitants of Mamu are forced to adapt to this calamity. These inhabitants include Yomi - a multicoloured pom-pom monk; Lummo - a wise blind witch training a band of melon coloured babies; and Uso - a sneaky bug thief hidden in a green cloak - as well as many others. As their respective stories begin to interlock, the mysteries surrounding the giant eyeballs are slowly revealed.”

Featuring artwork by Iglooghost, the vinyl format includes a large format 12-page Riso printed comic booklet and “Neō Wax Bloom” character sticker sheet. 

"end of an era" was produced over a period of 23 years. It began with a few short recordings of lightly processed sine waves that came to me via Asmus Tietchens and Achim Wollscheid. The work on these resulted in a first version and release of "time is the simplest thing" (Three Poplars 2003) which I was never fully satisfied with, so I continued working on it further until a definitive version was completed in 2018. I began work on "time and again ... and again" in 2013 when experimenting with analog electronics. Again I made a first version that I was not entirely happy with and picked up again and completed it in 2022 with the help of Ronnie Oliveras who engineered parts of the remix. The titles for the pieces are related to American writer Clifford Simak whose novels and short stories have been a source of inspiration since adolescent days.

Cosmic American Music from the far flung reaches of rural Oregon. Issued in 1979 on Allan Wachs' own True Vine imprint, Mountain Roads and City Streets gathers a decade of songs written while hitchhiking up and down the west coast. Screeching pedal steel, lilting flute, and tingly dulcimer are peppered throughout Wachs' tales of brief affairs, invisible dogs, and getting lost in a changing America.

Back in print for the first time this century, first time for color and tip-on jacket, the definitive edition remastered from the original tapes. Meeting at the halfway point between Bleach and Damaged, Unwound’s 1995 self-titled album arrived years after the original trio of Vern Rumsey, Justin Trosper, and Brandt Sandeno made their Avast Studios debut. Compiling their EPs for Kill Rock Stars and Gravity Records with five more session outtakes, Unwound was released on Rumsey’s Punk In My Vitamins as the band began flirting with the mainstream. Witness a band’s prehistory as it plays out in a feral maelstrom of screaming, distortion, feedback, and abrasive promise.

Things are looking up for The Harlem Gospel Travelers, who return here with a new album, a new lineup, and a new lease on life. Produced by Eli Paperboy Reed, Look Up! marks the group’s first full-length release as a trio, as well as their first collection of totally original material, and it couldn’t have come at a more vital moment. The music still draws deeply on the gospel quartet tradition of the ’50s and ’60s, of course, but there’s a distinctly modern edge to the record, an unmistakable reflection of the tumultuous past few years of pandemic anxiety, political chaos, and social unrest. The songs are bold and resilient, facing down doubt and despair with faith and perseverance, and the performances are explosive and ecstatic, fueled by dazzling vocal arrangements punctuated with gritty bursts of guitar and crunchy rhythm breaks. Born out of an non-profit music education program led by Reed, The Harlem Gospel Travelers—singers Thomas Gatling, George Marage, and Dennis Bailey—released their debut LP, He’s On Time, to rave reviews in 2019, with Pop Matters hailing the album’s “musical transcendence” and AllMusic praising it as “dreamlike and joyous.” The record charted on Billboard, earned the Travelers high profile fans like Elton John (who invited them to appear on his Rocket Hour radio show on Apple Music), and landed them festival slots everywhere from Pilgrimage to Telluride Jazz.

The second album of 2012's masterpiece has been repressed! From the opening vocals to the bass-heavy beat of the preceding track Numb, which leads into a dark world, all of these songs have a solemn worldview where ashes fall. This album features a female vocalist who sounds like a liquefied version of Sade, and the leaden industrial beat and jet-black ambience that accompanies the aesthetic sound is breathtaking. The artwork that perfectly matches the music is also excellent. Masterpiece!

Phew's 1992 legendary solo album "Our Likeness" will be reissued on clear vinyl, limited to 1,000 copies worldwide!

Jaki Liebezait (CAN), Alexander Hacke (Einstürzende Neubauten), Chrislo Haas (D.A.F.), Thomas Stern (Lime and the City Solution) participated! Recording by Kraftwerk , NEU!, Cluster & Eno, D.A.F.

the most live-sounding Yo La Tengo album in years, This Stupid World. Times have changed for Yo La Tengo as much as they have for everyone else. In the past, the band has often worked with outside producers and mixers. In their latest effort, the first full-length in five years, This Stupid World was created all by themselves. And their time-tested judgment is both sturdy enough to keep things to the band’s high standards, and nimble enough to make things new. At the base of nearly every track is the trio playing all at once, giving everything a right-now feel. There’s an immediacy to the music, as if the distance between the first pass and the final product has become more direct.

Limited Clear Vinyl edition, 500 copies! Recorded in NYC in 1958 and originally released in 1959 as "The Cecil Taylor Quintet - Hard Driving Jazz" this is in fact the only existing document of the meeting between John Coltrane and Cecil Taylor. Even if caught at an early stage in their career the two masters show great personality and deep respect for each other while trumpeter Kenny Dorham sticks more to his familiar bop idiom. Cordially backed up by Chuck Israel on bass and Louis Hayes, Coltrane swings madly on Taylor's dissonant comping producing a rare, fascinating friction between two worlds. A must for every Coltrane maniac out there.

Don Cherry (1936-1995), one of the true giants in the history of spiritual jazz, released his masterpiece on the hallowed Blue Note label in 1969. This is the last of the three albums he released from Blue Note. This is the last of the three albums released from Blue Note. From the very beginning, the band rushed forward with tremendous energy and tremendous toughness. Recorded on November 11, 1966, with sleeve notes by Ornette Coleman. Limited to 300 copies on clear vinyl.

Limited Clear Vinyl edition, 300 copies! Joao Gilberto's self titled third album, is the fruit of the collaboration between Gilberto and the great composer and arranger Antonio Carlos Jobim and Walter Wanderley and his ensemble. This is one of the greatest pieces of work in the field of Brazilian music. Gilberto's delicate singing moves on top of extremely subtle, elegant orchestral arrangements of various songs from the classic repertoire, "Samba da Minha Terra" and "Saudade da Bahia" (Dorival Caymmi), "O Barquinho" (Roberto Menescal / Ronaldo Bôscoli) without forgetting essential numbers by Carlos Lyra, Vinicius de Moraes and Tom Jobim. A timeless masterpiece, period!

Sam Hall’s new album as ghost orchard, ‘rainbow music’, is a collage of patience and meditation. The record was written in two halves, between the summer of 2020 and the spring of 2021, and is filled with nuances as quietly imperceptible as the seasons, or the profound movement of time, where one day looking back you realize your whole spirit has shifted. Where 2019’s critically revered ‘bunny’ was a love letter to a romantic relationship, ‘rainbow music’ documents the culmination of Hall’s first personal experience with loss in several forms. At the end of 2020, his longterm childhood pet passed away, and with it the last continuing threads of familiarity between being a kid and adulthood. Still based in the Grand Rapids, Michigan town he’d grown up in, the static ease of familiar living seemed to be coming apart at the seams, as friends moved on to bigger cities, relationships shapeshifted and in a short period of time, another kitten he’d adopted passed away prematurely, leaving Hall to question the trajectory in which he himself was headed. Recorded in the house that Hall currently lives in, ‘rainbow music’ is a timestamp of this environment. A myriad of shows used to take place at the residence, and the space still reverberates with the residual echoes of people as they pass though. Hall remains fascinated with the remnants of things left behind, and his home is replete with furniture and miscellaneous objects that reflect the core of his compositions: sonic maximalism paired with attention to detail. His music feels steeped in this place he has painstakingly decorated, where, much like the songs of ‘rainbow music,’ each individual object provides its own history and underlying connectedness to part of a greater collection. Bristling with the familiarity of being a stranger in someone else’s living quarters, amidst all their belongings and hoarded treasures, the album’s linear qualities remain rough around the edges, like gradually filling in the color of someone you’re just getting to know. “I love creating rooms,” Hall emphasizes, and this record “feels more inside of me than anything.” The oldest (and only proper love song), “soot,” was the first song to come after a period of static creativity, and effectively opened a floodgate that inspired him to finish half of ‘rainbow music’ in the forthcoming two months. Each track weighs with its own impact, as Hall grapples with endings and beginnings side by side, a rebirth that Hall equates to be as cathartic as crying. Many came about in a sudden stream of consciousness: the bare-boned structures of “rest” were recorded entirely in a day, and was an immediate reaction to his pet’s death and a way to process those feelings. More upbeat “maisy” and glitch-filled “cut” also came together tangentially to one another. “I feel more secure in my relationship to music,” Hall muses. With his previous work, “I was trying different things on, but ‘rainbow music’ feels more certain: this is me for better for worse at this period of time.” There’s a push and pull across the eleven songs, a sort of immediacy that’s made even more effective by Hall’s retrospective reflection. “comfort (rainbow)” was written in half prior to most of the grief that would alter Hall’s life, and was completed months later by the tuner who fixed the upright piano in his house. Produced almost entirely by Hall, the only further collaborator was Bennett Littlejohn (who has also contributed to Hovvdy and Katy Kirby’s projects), and these specific touches are integral to the cohesive footprint of ‘rainbow music’s miniature universes. Hall has previously described his work as “memory storage”, and in a way ‘rainbow music’ functions as an hourglass measuring out spoonfuls of both the past and future. An oscillating palette of instruments flit between acoustic guitar, piano and even fluttering drum and bass, where synths patter like barely discernible heartbeats and vocals feel more like an instrument than decipherable words. Hall has never released the lyrics to his music, but throughout the album’s insular quality sometimes you can hear smidges of the outside world from far away; a call and return echoed by repetition where meaning is sketched out in a dreamscape and a subtle darkness always surrounds the fringes. Like “songs in the key of life,” the title ‘rainbow music’ refers to the myriad of colors and qualities within Hall that are refracted throughout. It’s a symbolization of hope and the aftermath, the flickering light at the end of the tunnel (or “when a rainbow shows up after a big storm”). “Wish I could have fun anymore,” Hall ruminates on “dancing”, as well as confessing he “wish he made more upbeat bangers.” But reality packs more of a punch, and this collection of songs sees him finally be at peace with the current state of affairs. Relatable to anyone who has contemplated what it means to settle down, or even just catch your breath in an era where anguish is commonplace, the release of ‘rainbow music’ is a happy ending in its own right, a marker of survival that remains close to the bone.