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Distant Call is a collection of early demos that were worked into finished productions appearing on Haha Sound, Tender Buttons and The Future Crayon.
The album also includes two songs discovered by James after Trish’s passing: “Come Back To Me” and “Please Call To Book” which was her response to Broadcast's 2006 ‘Let’s Write A Song’ project, where fans were asked to submit lyrics on a postcard which would then be worked into a finished song.
Distant Call is a closing of the door on Broadcast and will be the last release from the band.



The Moon and the Melodies is a singular record within the Cocteau Twins’ catalog—unusually ethereal, even by their standards, and largely instrumental, guided by the free-form improvisations of Harold Budd, an ambient pioneer who had drifted into their orbit as if by divine intervention. Building on the atmospheric bliss of Victorialand, released earlier the same year, it signaled a possible future for the trio, yet it was a path the Cocteau Twins would never take again. Now, 28 years after it was first released, it has been reissued for the first time—remastered, from the original tapes, by Robin Guthrie himself.
The album was never actually meant to happen; no one can even recall exactly how it came about in the first place. As both Guthrie and Simon Raymonde remember it, the independent television station Channel 4 approached 4AD about a film project pairing musicians from different genres. In interviews in the 1980s, however, Budd, who passed away in 2020, believed that his music publisher had linked him with the Cocteaus after the group had expressed interest in covering one of his songs. In any case, the film never happened. “But we’d spoken to Harold, and we were all quite excited about it—in a very sort of downbeat Cocteau Twins way, where we were rarely excited about anything,” Raymonde recalls. “We’re like, well, let’s carry on and do it anyway—you’ve already booked your flight, let’s just hang out in the studio and see what happens.”
“There was a lot of hilarity,” Guthrie says. “It was strange to have an older man in our life, because Liz and I saw everybody around us—the contemporary bands, the people running record labels, the journalists—as grownups. We were literally kids. I thought, ‘Oh Christ, he’s going to be some pompous, you know, into his classical music,’ and he wasn’t. He was just a big man-child. We clicked in that respect.”
The Cocteau Twins had recently built their own recording studio in North Acton, in West London. It was the first time they’d had their own space, and they relished their newfound freedom. “We were in this lovely little bubble of making our own music,” Raymonde says. Budd fit right into their bubble world; all four musicians got on immediately. Over pints at the pub, they talked about everything but music, and in the studio, Raymonde and Budd both say that very little, if anything, was discussed, save perhaps for questions of tempo or key.
“Harold would sit down at the piano and start playing something, and then maybe I’d pick up a bass and start playing along with him,” Raymonde says. “They were very much noodles rather than songs. That was the way we tended to work anyway. Work out what kind of mood are we feeling, get a drum beat going, just a two-bar pattern; Guthrie would plug his guitar in, I would plug my bass in, and then we’d just jam for a few minutes and go, ‘Yeah, that was cool, let’s carry on doing that thing or that thing,’ really casually, and then all of a sudden we’d have a song. I know that sounds ludicrous, but that is how we did it, and with Harold it was exactly the same.”
Budd played a Yamaha CP-70 electric grand, and the group came armed with a growing arsenal of gear, like the Yamaha Rev7 multi-effects processor and Lexicon PCM60, perhaps an Ensoniq Mirage. Guthrie used an EBow on his guitars, along with a Gizmo, an electromechanical device invented by Godley and Creme. Guthrie remembers endless experiments in search of new sounds: “Lots of messing around, tuning the guitar strings all the same, getting droney sorts of things—really big, loud, sort of Metallica-like feedback sounds, but then put in the mix so quietly you can hardly hear them the first time you listen. All these psychoacoustic sort of tricks that I liked. It’s all in there, you know. Just being fearless—if it didn’t work out, it was never going to be a record anyway.”
The musicians’ contrasting approaches ended up shaping the album’s somewhat curious format—four instrumentals in Budd’s meandering style, more tone poems than actual songs, and four more structured pieces with verses, choruses, drum machine, and, of course, Elizabeth Fraser’s inimitable singing, as bold and inspired as anywhere in the band’s catalog. There was no conscious decision to have Fraser only sing on four songs. “That’s just what came out of the sessions,” Guthrie says. “It was a lightweight atmosphere making it, because we didn’t actually feel that we were making a record at the time. We were trying out some stuff in the studio, and it just evolved into what it did. Which is, essentially, a recorded version of some people trying out some stuff in the studio.”
The sessions were over in two weeks, maybe three. “And that was already getting a bit long,” Guthrie says, “because some of our earlier records had taken just a couple of days.” They fleshed out the material, he adds, with one more song that the trio wrote in Budd’s absence, after they realized they didn’t have quite enough material for a full album. (“Was I that drunk?” Budd asked, upon hearing the final version of the album, which included a song he had no recollection of making.) As much as it may pain fans to hear it, there is no more extant material from the sessions—no outtakes, no rough drafts, no alternate versions. “For the 13 years I was in the band, we have no spare tracks at all,” Raymonde says. “If after an hour or two a track wasn’t coming together, we’d just get rid of it. If it wasn’t good now, our attitude was, it’ll never be any good. So we’d think, tomorrow’s another day—let’s go to the cinema and come back tomorrow, and see how it goes. Let’s go bowling.”
The other curious thing about the album—the fact that it was credited to all four players under their individual names—followed the same intuitive logic as everything else that went into the record. “It’s because it wasn’t a Cocteau Twins album,” Guthrie says. Raymonde concurs: “It was simple. All four of us have gone into the studio and done something, but it isn’t a Cocteau Twins album.” But perhaps the passage of time has changed matters. These days, on streaming services, you’ll find the album filed chronologically alongside the rest of the band’s work. “What’s interesting,” Guthrie adds, “is that I got the tape boxes from the studio, and guess what it says on it? ‘Cocteau Twins plus Harold Budd.’” Perhaps, he seems to suggest, the group got hung up on a detail that never really mattered. In any case, Raymonde says, “The more credit that Harold gets for the work he did, the more people that find his music because it’s in the Cocteau environment, the better.”
Despite all its quirks, The Moon and the Melodies has attracted a passionate fan base over the years. Its most atmospheric tracks routinely turn up in ambient DJ sets. 'Sea, Swallow Me' is one of the Cocteau Twins’ most streamed songs on Spotify, second only to Heaven or Las Vegas’ 'Cherry-coloured Funk'; it has also found new life on TikTok, where it serves as the soundtrack to innumerable expressions of hard-to-express melancholy. For such a low-key affair, the album casts a long shadow—but Raymonde believes the record’s uniqueness stems directly from its humble, unpremeditated origins. “It’s always about making something that’s pleasurable,” he says, “capturing a moment in time between friends that are enjoying making music together. Really, that’s the essence of it—the music was just a reflection of how nice a time we were having in the studio.”

This is the most long-awaited reissue of this masterpiece from the most important spiritual jazz label, Strata-East! This miraculous album includes the masterpiece "Peace," which combines a peaceful worldview, modal sound, and black groove!
A gem of a record that fully expresses the beauty, power, and profundity of US spiritual jazz! The first work recorded in 1974 by The Ensemble Al Salam, led by saxophonist Khaliq Abdul Al Rouf. From the Afrocentric "The Sojourner," the prototype of Two Banks of Four, "Circles," the high-speed modal jazz "Trace Of Trane" dedicated to Coltrane, the thrilling and tense "Malika," the peaceful "Optimystical," and the masterpiece "Peace," which changes from a warm and soulful first half to a raging Brazilian, this is a record that I sincerely hope as many music fans as possible will listen to! In particular, the song featuring the vital female vocalist Beatrice Parker is like a jewel.









Hiroshima-based artist Meitei announces the reissue of Kwaidan on the 5th anniversary of his groundbreaking debut album. A collaboration between 2 labels – KITCHEN. LABEL (Kofū I & II) and Evening Chants (Kwaidan), the reissue sees the highly anticipated special 5th Anniversary Edition of Kwaidan with two previously unreleased bonus tracks. This will be released on long-out-of-print vinyl format in a new color variant, with an 8-panel insert and the first-ever CD version.
In 2018, Meitei shook the ambient world with the release of his debut album Kwaidan, a transposition of Japanese folklore into intricate compositions, capturing what he would coin as the “lost Japanese mood”. The album almost instantly received critical acclaim from the likes of Pitchfork, where it was included in their Best Experimental Albums of 2018, Bandcamp, calling it “different from some of the ambient music that has been coming from Japan in recent years”, The Wire and more.
Kwaidan (怪談) is a style of Japanese ghost stories. Meitei took it as a challenge of his skill as a musician to transpose the folklore into intricate compositions, capturing this lost “Japanese mood”. “The shocking elements in the horror have become a staple. It functions as entertainment. But I felt the mood and ambiance from Kwaidan is starting to wither – while the darkness is scary, the beauty is in the curious spirit,” explains Meitei.
Koizumi Yakumo is an important figure in the Japanese literary world, known for his legends and ghost stories. He left the world, leaving a masterpiece called Kwaidan, heavily inspiring Meitei’s album direction. Sazanami, Curio, Shoji and Mushiro are seen as a nod and tribute to his work. Other influences include manga author Mizuki Shigeru, who drove the sound for Touba and Jizo, intended to be a homage soundtrack for his manga Gegege no Kitarō. As an old-fashioned man, Meitei also draws from the legendary Hayao Miyazaki of Studio Ghibli. With this very eclectic mix of influences, the album Kwaidan possesses a prominent horror element, comedy, sentimentality and sorrow. He compares the ambiance as one would visually with wet moss, shrouded in mist.
“Music is an important human communication tool. Expressing a mood that is almost impossible to translate into language perfectly is interesting.” While most of the above might stem from influential Japanese art, Meitei was also attracted to the new wave of lo-fi hip hop, which he tried to weave into his music subtly. Something as easy as the wrong placement of a kick and snare on a track can divert the track away from the Kwaidan mood. Yet, Meitei found a delicate balance, resulting in a gorgeously crafted album.
Meitei releases Kwaidan 5th Anniversary Edition on 21 July 2023 via KITCHEN. LABEL and Evening Chants. Available on 180g smoke haze variant LP, CD and digital formats (LP arriving in Q3, 2023), This record is mastered by Taylor Deupree at 12k Mastering in New York.

"Zul'm" is an album of contrasts. It is evocative of a culture caught up in a web of local and global politics.
The narrative appears as a slice of urbanity - up tempo, carefree soundscapes of human activity interspersed with digitized spatial rhythms. The boundary between East and West coalesces, melding and jutting into a changing whole.
Muslimgauze are from Manchester, forming in the post-industrial early eighties. Theirs is a world music based on western rhythms, integrated with ethnic instruments and atmospheres. The music is a minimal, polyrhythmic soundscape. A vision of unresolved cultural change.
"Zul'm" sees a further step in the interaction of two very different nations, with guest musicians Said Nasser on Arabic percussion and voice and Zorawar Singh on Indian percussion and voice. Also appearing on the album is Mark Lawrence on keyboards.
The title "Zul'm" is derived from the name of the Muslim prophet "Zulkifl", meaning fate. The plight of the Palestinian people continues to inspire the music of Muslimgauze.
Original press release from Extreme.
The original tracks were perfectly remastered for this first time ever vinyl release and the new masters received high praise from the Extreme Music owner Roger Richards.
New sleeve designs were created by Oleg Galay, who is famous for his artworks for many Muslimgauze reissues.
All 4 album covers are made from extra heavy cardboard with deluxe spot UV finish and inside print.
