MUSIC

Shuttle358 Optimal.LP is the much-anticipated debut release from californian dan abrams, and the first release in a series of artists featured on 12k's .aiff compilation. Dan Abrams' music is a self-replicating ecosystem that grows and unfolds with the movement of sonic particles and binary rhythm. Optimal.LP plays on the juxtaposition of ambient drones and delicate melodies with layers of digital static, lo-fi rumblings, and distressed microscopic sounds. this contrast in elements makes "optimal.lp" a very engaging and sophisticated body of work; tense, jarring, and oddly soothing.

Limited color vinyl edition, recorded in New York in 1978. The spiritual tenor, delayed cosmic guitars, infinitely spacey moog, ethereal vocals, and wavering rhythms make this the most hallucinatory of the bunch, and a favorite of DJs.

For the first time, The Brandt Brauer Frick Ensemble’s seminal album "Mr. Machine" is being re-issued on coloured vinyl. This is a record that put them alongside names as Steve Reich and Philip Glass, but with considerably more groove. More than anything, Daniel, Jan and Paul are keen that the Brandt Brauer Frick Ensemble are not written off as a curiosity: “Often people focus a lot on this whole "cross-over" aspect,” says Brauer. “We wish people would simply notice we have good chords, melodies etc. and take the music as it is. Because we make it the way we feel, and not for other, let's say purely conceptual reasons. Some only seem interested in how it’s made. Some reviewers perceive us as minimal techno, some as modern classical, some as nu jazz and so on. But we don’t divide the world into techno and non-techno.”

In March of 2023 composer, arranger & alto saxophonist Cassie Kinoshi premiered a commissioned suite of music in front of a sold out crowd at London’s Southbank Centre. She wrote the piece – gratitude – for her flagship large ensemble seed., in a special augmented formation that also featured turntablist NikNak and the London Contemporary Orchestra (LCO).

Followers of UK Jazz know Kinoshi from her previous work with seed. (including the Mercury Prize-nominated album Driftglass, released by jazz re:freshed in 2019), or as a former member of Kokoroko. But her compositional résumé also extends deeply into orchestral work for concert hall, contemporary dance, film, visual art, and theatre, with high profile collaborators including London Sinfonietta, Philharmonia Orchestra, and the London Symphony Orchestra. That depth of experience is on full display on gratitude, with the textural and dynamic flexibility of her large ensemble covering musical ground from groove-focused modal melancholia to anthemic brass and string themes. Striking upon first listen and even richer on repeat visits, gratitude scores the soul of contemporary Black London with philharmonic craftwork in the tradition of legendary jazz arrangers like Mary Lou Williams, Oliver Nelson, and Carla Bley.

Similar to those keystone writer-arrangers, here Kinoshi wields the power of a large ensemble to convey nuanced human emotion. “gratitude was written as a means of guiding my own healing,” says Kinoshi. “My mother told me that she keeps a gratitude book where she writes one thing, no matter how big or small, every day that helps to re-focus her mind on practicing gratitude. The examples that she gave were seeing the flowers that she'd recently planted in her garden bloom and a kaleidoscope of butterflies that she saw flitting about a tree in her garden.”

Inspired by her mother’s focus on natural beauty and the meaningful minutiae of everyday life, Kinoshi was driven to work through her own relationship with mental health and to pour that into composition. “I was spending a lot of time on my own, often at my desk writing continuously,” says Kinoshi. “At 3pm everyday, the winter sun would be positioned opposite my window and shine directly onto my face. The task of writing this piece was one of the most difficult I've endured – because of the headspace that I was in at the time – and this would be the one thing in the middle of the day that would bring me a very deep sense of contentment… my first attempt at consciously practicing gratitude for something that I so often take for granted.”

“At this point in my artistic career, highlighting the often overlooked subject of mental health and what it means to move towards creating healthy, positive and introspective practices in regards to both understanding and regulating one's own mental health is of the utmost importance to me.”

Throughout the writing process Kinoshi had the privilege of knowing that her composition would eventually be interpreted by seed. — an ensemble of players she founded in 2016 and whose collective talents she knows through and through. “The binding concept of seed. has always been to have a creative outlet that allows me to express and highlight subject matter important to me alongside musicians that I deeply respect, admire and enjoy spending time with,” explains Kinoshi. “It is the one environment where I feel extremely comfortable being able to experiment with sound authentically. Over the years, it has evolved in the sense that the more comfortable the band members get with interpreting my music, and the more we develop a creative language together, the more honest the music sounds.” That profound musical and personal trust helped make the ensemble a perfect vehicle for a composition augmented by new collaborators — in this case the LCO and NikNak.

Kinoshi and seed. first met turntablist NikNak at the Marsden Jazz Festival in 2019. After spending some time talking politics and sharing jokes it was clear that a creative relationship was possible. “I find that working with formidable artists that I get on well with on a personal level always leads to my best work, and knew as soon as I met NikNak that I wanted to work with them.”

On the genesis of her collaboration with the LCO, Kinoshi says: “I have always wanted to combine seed. with electronics and orchestral elements, as I have always envisioned the band performing multi-disciplinary works. I have long admired the members of the LCO and their way of successfully melding orchestral arrangements and improvisation with more contemporary artists. I was introduced to them via Lexy Morvaridi during his time at the Southbank Centre. It was through his support, creative insight and trust that we were able to make this project happen.” The beauty and harmony of these communal connections plus the depth and deftness of all the musickers involved truly made Kinoshi's dream of this composition a reality.

Running confidently at 21 minutes and 33 seconds (not including the album’s B Side / final track “Smoke in the Sun,” which was recorded separately at Total Refreshment Centre) and going straight for the heart, gratitude is an evolved, emotionally attuned, creatively ambitious and compositionally exquisite philharmonic expression of post-millennial UK jazz. 

On rare occasions, all the stars align. This is how it was when composer-musician and instrument-maker Bex Burch jumped into her car and drove eight hours across Europe to Utrecht in November 2021. “Mostly life isn’t like that,” she says. “We’re here to figure things out and struggle. But occasionally things just fall into place. Sometimes the world is magical.” The car trip began in Berlin, where she was living after a long stint in London, where she’d made her name in the layers that exist between jazz and improvised experimentalism. The journey ended at Le Guess Who? Festival and an invitation from International Anthem’s Alejandro Ayala. Or perhaps it ended in a ground floor studio in Chicago’s South Side with light streaming through a skylight onto her newly-finished wooden xylophone and a stream of musicians selected by International Anthem’s Scottie McNiece and Dave Vettraino. Or maybe, like a wave travelling across the ocean, the travels continued until Bex Burch finally finished editing thirty-two days of exceptionally tender improvised recording sessions into the forty gossamer minutes of this stunning debut solo record, which oscillates between modes of quiet open-heartedness and powerful expression. There is only love and fear is the sound of Bex Burch in communion with some of the finest sonic communicators in International Anthem’s extended family. These include woodwind player Rob Frye, who gave Burch a tour of the Illinois Audubon Society’s Gremel Wildlife Sanctuary the day after she arrived in Chicago. Also Tortoise drummer Dan Bitney and Ben LaMar Gay, who both took Burch through her first few days in the studio, tuning into her communicative harmonics and responding with their own. And double bassist Anna Butterss and violinist Macie Stewart, who participated separately but both became key collaborators in the album’s post-production, accenting their respective string improvisations with additional sounds remotely recorded per Burch’s direction. Everyone on this record is highly skillful, a rare talent, but drawn together by Burch they were invited to inhabit something even more extraordinary: their most open selves, requested only to bring the sounds they liked – or even needed – in the moment of recording. “What has come through in this album,” she says, “is a more domestic style of music: the simplicity of life and sound-making. The word I’m shy to use is ‘feminine’ but it’s true, and I reclaim it in all its power.” She describes her sound as “messy minimalism.” The twelve tracks evoke variously the sweet kind of zoning-in that allows the listener access to their own feelings; the generative meditations of First Thought, Best Thought-era Arthur Russell; Vivaldi or Laurie Anderson – if they’d been ultra-gentle satellite reflections of Chicago’s minimalist and avant-garde music histories. Burch has previously released as part of Boing! with Leafcutter John, and with the critically acclaimed Strut-released Flock with Londoners including Sarathy Korwar and The Comet Is Coming’s Danalogue. She also runs the band and label Vula Viel and has collaborated with artists from Peter Zummo to Dame Evelyn Glennie. This album also welcomes in the sound of the natural world; ‘hip as fuck’ wood pigeons and resonant nightingales recorded in Berlin parks and forests, dreamy waves lilting onto the sand on the Baltic coast of Rügen Island for the unforgettable closing track ‘When Love Begins’ – and some extreme Chi-Town weather. “There was this ignition moment,” she says of ‘You thought you were free’, the carnival-coloured mid-point of the album. “There was a tornado warning, our phones were all going off: ‘go into the basement’.” The players collectively shrugged their shoulders – until siren sound waves began ghosting through the studio walls. “I turned one of the microphones up to catch the thunder and the rain under the skylight,” she says. “I was properly scared, not just because of the storm, but because I was nervous. I was trying to stay open and be conscious of the fact that I didn’t know what to expect – and that doing so means surrender. That knife edge of presence was really intense. We all just played through.” Playing through was possible, at least in part because of a 90-day practice Burch calls Dawn blessings, which also provided some of the ‘heard sounds’ that dance around the music generated during these collaborative recordings. The practice refers to a friend called Dawn, not daybreak, although at least one of the Dawn blessings that ended up on There is only love and fear was recorded when the sun came up. The Dawn blessings required Burch to make one piece of music daily, in answer to the question: ‘what sounds do I like today?’ “My intention was to cultivate this feeling of expansion and magic that I felt when I was invited to the US. The music is already there, and I have to let go and allow myself to be in it. The 90-day practice was to strengthen that muscle. You know if

Flowing water is an essential element of Earthly existence, a living force, a process of nature, a path-making which combines infinite sources mixing imperceptibly into a singular energy. It’s also a potent metaphor. A childlike wonder at flowing water’s presence and power, all the impressions it makes and creative neurons that it fires, happens to be a personality trait shared by Evan Shornstein (aka Photay) and Carlos Niño. The two producers/musical connectors may have grown up and reside a continent and daily realities apart — Photay in the forest serenity of New York’s Hudson Valley, Niño on Los Angeles’s ocean-adjacent west side — yet this magnetic power of fluidity, its sound, its meaning, what it can teach us about art and circulation, mesmerizes them both. Water is the spiritual center of their first album-length collaboration, the vast and deep An Offering — from the visual on the cover, to the first sound you hear on the opening “Prelude,” to the underlying themes and images espoused by the poet-philosopher Iasos on the closing “Existence.” More importantly, the image of water-like flow is a continuous reflection of how these two musicians have come to work together and apart, of the way they made An Offering, and how they’re continuing to create, without a beginning and (hopefully) with no end in sight. An infinite flow of sound, from and to every direction. Some of this work directly reflects the relationship between the two men, and of where/how Photay’s electronic, often-dancefloor-oriented tracks found Niño’s far-reaching world of ambient spirituality and improvised soundscaping. The meeting point is precise: Laraaji, the new age zither legend with whom Niño regularly collaborates, including at a June 2016 show in New York City which Niño played and Shornstein attended. The connection initiated immediately after that performance did not simply find the pair participating in each other’s recording projects — Photay remixing a Niño-produced Laraaji track and involved in Niño & Friends sessions; Carlos showing up on multiple songs of Photay’s 2020 album, Waking Hours, some of which was recorded at Niño’s studio—but in a broad exchange of ideas. Niño long ago established himself as one of Los Angeles’ great musical conduits, constructing environments that facilitate partnerships between far-flung artists, perpetuating the freedom of working in the present, outside expectations, trusting the work’s destination. When the younger Shornstein met Niño, his own creative process was ”almost too precious, and it was always my goal to break out of that.” Adapting Carlos’ pacing and free-flowing strategies — scenarios such as sharing recorded stems, bringing in old recordings to serendipitously fit new tracks, or mixing organic improvisations with stylized, post-produced rhythms — transformed Evan’s perspective. It made him rethink ideas like “finished,” shedding pressurized over-analysis for a process he calls “fluid” and “healthy.” It also made Shornstein reconsider some music they’d recorded but originally left off Waking Hours, “microscopic moments that were more expansive in my mind — there was so much honesty there.” What may not have made sense within the composed, hyper-stylized beauty of Hours, “felt really good” outside that context. Niño, who describes himself as “very album-oriented,” agreed, suggesting they create a unified body of work to match those moments — but not overthink it, make it quick, easy, productive, present. Which is how the re-imagining of pieces of music that became “Change” and “Exist,” sprung Photay and Carlos Niño into collaborating even more closely, and brought An Offering to the world. The sounds they gathered into an intentional, meditative whole, were made together and apart, and sourced from all over. The two producers made connections between new music and recordings they already had: Shornstein found hours of tape featuring solo playing by Upstate New York harpist Mikaela Davis, which became a central adornment on multiple tracks. Niño sent Shornstein a quartet improvisation he made with tenor saxophonist Aaron Shaw, keyboardist Diego Gaeta and synth-guitarist Nate Mercereau, which became the basis of “Honor.” They brought in trusted partners. The atmospheric blowing of LA-based tenor saxophonist Randal Fisher is a focal point throughout, at times processed by Photay’s machines. Photay’s trombone player Nathaneal Ranson, and Niño’s long-standing LA-based collaborator, vocalist Mia Doi Todd, float in-and-out of the mix. When Niño makes a record, another original “new age” legend, Iasos, is bound to be around, and his strong summation on “Existence” are the only words An Offering submits. The healing energy of Peterskill, a short rocky State Park waterway that ebbs through New York’s Ulster County (and across from Shornstein’s home — “a real environmental inspiration”), flows throughout. “Creating with no constructs,” is how Shornstein describes the process of bringing these elements together. “It was just a feeling, which maybe is what music or creating should always be.” Peterskill was also the source for a long extra track/outro when An Offering debuted as a Bandcamp-exclusive cassette in October 2021 — and quickly sold out. (A gorgeous Shornstein-directed film accompanied the release as well.) The notion of this music as “offering” came to life in its immediacy (the tape was released only a month and half after the idea for it was seeded) and in its gift-like nature (you can still get the digital version at a price of your own choosing). Scott McNiece of International Anthem found it, and instantly connected with its natural essence, a sound that accompanies one’s movements through difficult moments, the motion of instinctive change, a way to mark the radical period of our time with incremental alterations. Like flowing water affecting an ancient landscape. International Anthem offered to give An Offering a full vinyl release, which is why you are reading this one-sheet right now. And like any current, the interconnectedness between Photay and Carlos Niño, their symbiotic way of informing and influencing each other’s sounds, continues to naturally move forward and shapeshift. They are working on multiple projects together at the moment, and have already completed More Offerings. Flow on! - Piotr Orlov, August 2022

Mammal Hands fifth album ‘Gift from the Trees’ offers a fresh perspective on the unique trio’s singular music. The first to be recorded in a residential studio, the band enjoyed the opportunity to go late into the night searching for a deeper, more organic experience, closer to both their writing process but also their trance-like live performances. While some of the music was pre-composed and had even been performed live, the band also enjoyed the opportunity to improvise ideas in the studio. There was also a conscious decision to move away from the sound and ambiance of the recording studio, with the band opting to engineer the record with their go-to live engineer Benjamin Capp before mixing the sessions with Greg Freeman in Berlin. The idea was to try and capture more of the energy of the band’s captivating shows. The Welsh environment outside the studio doors seeped into the music presented on Gift from the Trees, with two recording sessions (one in winter and one in the spring) bringing different moods: one bleak and wintery, the other more hopeful and bright – an energy that permeates through tracks such as Kernel and Dimu.

Folk-minimalists announce vinyl issue for breakthrough album, Animalia. "The semi-classical drums/sax/piano trio Mammal Hands mutate into a high-volume rave act" The Guardian Captivating, ethereal and majestic, Mammal Hands (saxophonist Jordan Smart, pianist Nick Smart and drummer and percussionist Jesse Barrett) has carved out a refreshingly original sound from adisparatearray of influences: drawing on spiritual jazz, north Indian, folk and classical music to create something inimitably their own. Hailing from Norwich, one of Britain's most isolated and most easterly cities, they have forged their own path away from the musical mainstream and their unique sound grew out of long improvised rehearsals. All three members contribute equally to the writing process: one that favours the creation of a powerful group dynamic over individual solos. Their recordsare entrancing and beautiful affairs,while their hypnotic live shows have seen them hailed as one of the most exciting bands in Europe as they push their unique line-up to the outer limits of its possibilities. Over the course of three albums, Animalia, Floa and Shadow Work they have built a committed following and established themselves as one of the finest live bands in Europe. But while Floa and Shadow Work were both issued on vinyl this is the first time that Animalia has been committed to wax. Produced by Matthew Halsall and recorded at 80 Hertz Studio, in Manchester, and engineered by George Atkins, Animalia features the band breakthrough hits Mansions of Million Years, a slow building tune that takes it's name from Egyptian mythology and draws the listener into the band's distinctive sound world. And the gorgeous hooky Kandaiki which makes stunning use of looped melodies in different time signatures, creating a wonderful interplay between the parts. Other highlights include Snow Bough a short, melancholic, but moving, ambient composition, the Irish folk music inspired Spinning the Wheel, which also features drum beats inspired by chopped up electronic drum patterns and hip hop instrumentals. The jaunty Bustle and delightful Inuit Party and Street Sweeper. Finally the album closes with Tiny Crumb, which explores melodic ideas inspired by Alice Coltrane and Joe Henderson and builds in intensity from a quiet start to a powerful collective improvisation and heavily features Jesse's Tabla.

Svaneborg Kardyb's Tiny Desk (Home) concert was recorded in the countryside of Djursland, Denmark. "You have to drive for a while on a gravel road, and then you come to a lovely old house surrounded by hills and a stream on one side and a very flat landscape on the other, where you can see 10 miles away,". It's this place that inspired Svaneborg Kardyb's second album, Haven (or "garden" in English). "Haven celebrates places we like to be," the duo said. Svaneborg Kardyb is composed of Nikolaj Svaneborg on the Wurlitzer, synthesizer and piano, and Jonas Kardyb on drums and percussion. Their instrumentation set-up is untraditional, with the drums and keys facing each other, a position that they play in on stage just as they do in Kardyb's kitchen and living room on this session. They open up their set with the title track from Haven, which begins with a quiet melody over an effervescent loop. The sound mimics the shimmy of leaves in the breeze.

Les Disques Bongo Joe are happy to announce the release of Zonder Pardon, new album of our Amsterdam based superstar Don Melody Club in collaboration with Dutch label Exclesior Records. Crazy covers, amazing composition driven by his iconic drum machine groove, this album is a coooool project for our music lovers. Pulling the enchanted listener further into his psychedelic and retro tinged universe, Don Melody Club (AKA Donald “Donny” Madjid) readies the release of his new EP Zonder Pardon. Sung in his native Dutch (as are all his songs), Tederheid is a celebration of the beauty and power of mutual affection. With its uptempo drum machine rhythms, pulsating basslines, and funky melodies, the synths and vocals echo the work of Talking Heads and Bryan Ferry (Roxy Music), but the result is unmistakably Don Melody Club. The wonky Koud Kwartier evokes memories of the Nederwave sound of Doe Maar, a Dutch pop band that combined punk, ska, and reggae influences, first formed in 1978. Coming off the back of a busy 12 months and more of touring with The Mauskovic Dance Band, Madjid returns his focus to Don Melody Club, a project that first saw the light of day with the release of his debut LP Pure Donzin in 2021. Whilst many of his Dutch peers bypass Holland as a place for enlightenment, choosing to pivot and look far and wide for inspiration, Madjid felt drawn to the literary and musical tradition of the flatlands, following in the footsteps of both classic and lesser known Dutch troubadours such as Ramses Shaffy and Ronald Langestraat.

Nairobi-born Berlin-based sound artist Joseph Kamaru, aka KMRU, shares his new work Stupor on the new Helsinki-based label Other Power. Commissioned by the Helsinki curatorial and commissioning agency PUBLICS, Stupor is comprised of three original long form tracks. The tracks on the album are speculative notes to social architectures and environments the artist has traversed. As Bhavisha Panchia, a curator and researcher, writes in her liner notes: “A musical alchemist, KMRU places his listeners’ ear into a sonic-spatial matrix in which he transmutes his trans-local experience of place into elevated sonic dimensions that demand a kind of listening that you need to surrender to. If listening positions you inside an event – into a relational, social and cultural act that also positions us in the world – then listening to this album projects you inside an indeterminate unfolding, thick with tensions of movement and transitions. The artist’s pursuit of sounding out and responding to the world is undertaken through a creative mode of listening, recording and production, in which his ‘voice’ reverberates in his compositional arrangements – that mediate, translate, imagine and re-encode. As he engages with the environments he encounters, KMRU ‘renders sound negotiable, thinkable’. His signature emerges through electro-acoustic forms as he configures spatial and temporal imaginaries still tethered to the experiences of the places his ear encountered. The tracks on this album, Stupor, are speculative notes to social architectures and environments the artist has traversed. His orchestrated compositions and arrangements levitate us and turn our ears towards places and times beyond our reach, propelling us into a future anticipated but ungraspable. It is exactly the physical and psychological space that KMRU forges from his recordings and digital processes that stretch and transform them into prolific sound ‘events’. We could think of Nairobi and Berlin as instruments in KMRU’s compositions, where the east African city is the place from which KMRU’s listening has been nurtured, while the west European is the city to which his ear has been attuned. The artist’s relationship with Nairobi’s diverse neighbourhoods – from Kariokor flats in the Eastlands where he grew up, to the suburbs in Rongai – has shaped his approach. His ongoing recordings of the city are crucial to his process of working and become historical records that capture it in time. They could be thought of as aural archives of a postcolonial place, undergoing numerous planned and unplanned infrastructural as well as economic changes. He treats these sonic documents of a rapidly expanding postcolonial environment – alongside globalisation, hyper-capitalism and increasing economic disparity across the globe – as the foundations from which he creates. Stupor reminds us that we are intrinsically spatial and temporal beings who contribute to the social construction of our worlds. Importantly, this album is a reminder of the capability of sound to carve out space and its potential to open spatial and temporal dimensions. Sound is movement. Sound is space. As Brandon LaBelle points out, “sound is both a thing of the past and a signal of the future”, pulling us forwards and pointing us back. The signals KMRU points us towards are indefinite, indeterminate and uncertain. They lean towards a future, yet never fully arrive there. For Joseph Kamaru, sound is a sensorial medium through which social, material and conceptual interpretations are manifested in his works. KMRU carries with him a repository of listening experiences from Nairobi and beyond expanding his sonic practices, bringing an awareness of surroundings through creative compositions, installations and performances. KMRU has carved out a serious and definitive space on the list of essential authors in ambient experimental music - one of the most prolific and innovative artists in his field.

To get a good handle on ‘Aslope’ look no further than the intricate ‘Scattered sprinkle, no turn’, a 12+ minute collage of moonlit organ vamps, stifled voices and disembodied, robotic poems. Heaving from smeary abstraction to penetrable drama almost imperceptibly, featherlight rhythms are cut short by uncanny voices: “stop, turning, a page,” like some rogue navigation assistant, slicing into ticking clocks and xerox noise. It’s like listening to a film without access to the visuals - all the foley sound remains (car blinkers, trains passing, conversations) and we’re left puzzling over what may or may not be happening. The only context provided is from Nika Son herself, who says that although the album doesn’t have a consistent theme, the link is that each piece is inspired by the night’s “capability to shift our perception and memory”. It comes off like a crepuscular sketchbook of ideas and themes that coalesce into a bumpy, endlessly rewarding sonic landscape. Son’s more bite-sized compositions are just as mind-altering. ‘Trinsar Gobble’ is one of the record’s more twitchy tracks, replete with thrumming, inhuman polyrhythms that skitter around booming thuds, French voices and oscillating, filtered synths. It’s music that defies simple categorisation - Son doesn’t tie herself to any particular type of identifiable expression or another. The music sounds as if it’s evolved outside expected contemporary influences: there are no knowing nods to early electronic innovators. Rather, Son follow her own nose, using the sonic characteristics of each element to draw us into an elusive personal narrative. On ‘It’s just a cucumber’, environmental recordings are edited just enough to enhance the illusion, before voices curl and decompress into rousing bass womps and unmetered rhythms prickle around punkish shouts. The use of voices is omnipresent throughout, even when they’re not there, they sound close: on ‘La nuit tombe’, they’re muffled behind echoing footsteps and creepy synth wails, and on ‘Gelbes Feld’, incomprehensible chatter envelopes cricket chirps and b-movie arpeggios. Many artists have tried to map out the dreamworld using sound, but Nika Son manages to make music that genuinely feels in-between worlds, capturing those seconds before vivid memories slip away from the mind’s eye.

Ecological Plantron" (1994) is a radical installation that uses sound to experience the ecological chain that surrounds our bodies from the perspective of plants.
This is a reprint of "Ecological Plantron" (1994), a radical installation that uses sound to let us experience the ecological chain that surrounds our bodies from the perspective of plants.

Bio-artist Yuji Dohkin researched and developed an epoch-making system in the early 1990s to create a device that speaks to plants and is spoken to by plants, which is "Plantron" (*I have a related doctoral thesis).
(*There is also a related doctoral dissertation.) This device, which extracts ecocurrents from plants (orchids) and converts them into physical phenomena that can be perceived by humans, is primarily intended to explore whether humans can perceive the intelligence of plants, and is not intended to entertain physical phenomena themselves. Ecological Plantron" is the "sound" record of the first installation of this "Plantron" in operation.

In this work, the copper-plated "Plantron" is constructed by composer Mamoru Fujieda into a sound system for installation, and the ecological current generated by the communication between plants and the human environment is programmed and converted into electronic sound, emitting irregularly shaped and irregular electronic sound particles.
(*Note) If I were to use a strong analogy, I might imagine an atmosphere somewhat similar to that of Xenakis or Penderecki's graphic notation music. Ecological currents remind us of the experimental music of Rosenboom and Lussier, who used human brain waves, but this work is not human-centered but plant-first, and it should be noted that it is not presented as a "musical work" in the first place.

For this reissue, we have remastered the independent recordings made at the gallery and included two works derived from Ecological Plantron, "Mangrove Plantron" and "Pianola Plantron," on a bonus disc. The first LP version is also available.
Since the experimental release of this device in 1991, pseudo-similar attempts have appeared, but it should be noted that the original was "Plantron". The commentary includes the latest contribution by Copper Gold, which reexamines the story of this experiment and its development, as well as the intentions of this work.

Note: Fujieda rediscovered the "melody" that modern music had left behind in the process of trying to extract some kind of regularity from this uncontrollable mass of sound, and this led him to compose and publish a series of works called "Plant Patterns.

1964年に最初にリリースされた貴重なジャマイカのスカレコードが待望の再発！1961年、最初のジェームズ・ボンド映画『Dr. No』にホテル・バンドとして出演して大ブレイクしたByron Lee & The Dragonariesによる初期名作『Dance The Ska』がアナログ・リイシュー。Jimmy Cliff、Prince Buster、Toots、Maytalsらと共に『This is Ska!』という伝説的な放送番組にも出演、Byron Leeと彼の友人Carl Bradyによって1950年に結成され、ジャマイカで最も知られ成功したバンドとして名を馳せたグループ。クラシック・スカ・ダンスの魅力が余すところなく12のステップに詰め込まれた内容となっています！

The Vulgarity Of Snow is Ottomani’s woozy, lilting soundwalk through techno, experimental electronics and scorched earth acid. The untitled tracks are less like distinct entities and give way to a larger, conjoined pair of triptychs spread out over two sides of wax. They feel like a paean to the format, which no doubt comes from Ottomani’s time spent working at one of London’s most revered record shops. As a longer, more probing piece, it’s anathema to talk about The Vulgarity Of Snow in terms of bpms and sub-genres, and arguably it owes as much to free jazz and psych-rock as it does to more leaden styles such as dub and roots. At times it pays tribute to the work of acts like Basic Channel and Random Trio, deploying dub electronics in novel ways, but it is also broader in its choice of sounds. On B2, for example, Mino Carbone, the artist’s uncle and an Italian anarchist from the same lineage as artists like Dario Fo, plays a song from that tradition. It’s not a chaotic piece, but it’s not heavily constrained.

Richard Wolfhouse comes through on Trule with his debut release, Percussion Edits Vol. 1. Three tracks indebted to 1970s African percussion records and 2000s minimal techno. Long, winding percussion workouts woven with modular synthesis and drum machines primed for dancefloors.

featuring Ulrich Schnauss, Carlos Niño, Matthewdavid ’s Mindflight, Susumu Yokota, new age legends Laraaji and Iasos, Abul Mogard and Teleplasmiste (includes Coil member Michael J York), 'new wave of new age ’ icons I. JORDAN and Yamaneko, Lo Recordings head Jon Tye, Blackwater, Private Agenda, MJ Lallo, D.K. (Antinote), Andras Fox, Cathy Lucas (Vanishing Twin) & Seahawks. Spaciousness is the first volume in a series of releases that seeks to explore the connections, the overlaps, the roots and the future of a music variously referred to as ambient, deep listening, new age and even post classical.

The earliest musical memories of young Prince Istari are of his mother beautifying the home with her piano playing. She would repeatedly play the tranquil pieces of Erik Satie. Skipping school and sitting in the sun, young Prince would listen to these catchy, calm compositions. In the first week of 2024, the older Prince Istari rediscovered himself and found a box containing his mother's old sheet music. He transferred them to his computer and began spinning dub versions from them. It became a tapestry. As his mother used to say: "To weave a net, one must first spin." The form of the pieces dictated the direction each would take. The heavy dub transforms here into a light weightiness until it dissolves into a pure piano piece accompanied by a synthesizer. However, the last piece is much older, from the time when Prince was still known as Istari Lasterfahrer. The ending includes a distorted recording of Huberta, Prince's mother, playing a Gnossienne by Satie. At the end, she turns the sheet music, and the record can be turned back to the beginning. In the essence of its material, this record rejects the Loudness War. The originality of the compositions guided the dub within their tracks, thereby imparting to each a form descriptive of its essence. record release of 200 copies, printed sleave, numbered.

Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri’s partnership unfolded serendipitously at the sold-out opening of the SoundSet Series at Madrid's Condeduque cultural center in 2023 - a program that featured performances by legends such as Autechre and younger artists like Caterina Barbieri and KMRU. The duo's encore that evening, recorded for Spain's Radio 3, resonated deeply with the audience, igniting a creative spark that propelled them to work remotely in their respective studios. At the heart of their effort lies a delicate balance of restraint and innovation, evident in the live concert track "Waking Up Dizzy on a Bastion." This piece, inspired by their musical sensibilities, serves as a testament to their shared vision and mutual respect. Utilizing a familiar parallel chord progression, the track builds from a simple melodic motif played live on synths that transforms into a call-and-response interplay between Mogard's synth lines and Irisarri's bowed guitar loops, creating a dialogue-like interaction between the musicians. As the piece moves forward, we are greeted by melting guitar patterns (recalling Kevin Shields most lysergic moments on Loveless), followed by an intense subsonic full body massage - the visceral physicality of the Ampeg bass amps and cabinets stacks on full display. Building upon the energy of that live performance, Mogard and Irisarri crafted "Place of Forever," a companion piece that combines Mogard's Farfisa organ and modular synthesizers with Irisarri's signature guitar tones and looping techniques at his Black Knoll studio in New York. Starting with a somber and minimal tone, the track gradually evolves, unfurling layers of deep bass tonalities draped in blissful gauze as it progresses during its 17-plus minute duration. The resulting album exudes a profound sense of alchemy, effortlessly weaving intricate soundscapes that feel simultaneously faraway and intimate. The cover artwork, by Marja de Sanctis, depicts a vase sculpture made of unfired clay. Created and photographed by herself, it reflects lights and shadows of fragility. The rawness of the material mirrors the purity and the delicate nature of the improvised duet’s performance. Daniel Castrejón’s design responds to the image transforming the shape of the vase into lines and empty spaces. His typography on the vinyl jacket features a spot varnish, creating a tactile reflection. Through these joint pieces, Mogard and Irisarri have created a work that encapsulates the dichotomy inherent in its title: impossibly distant, impossibly close.

Somehow, Jeremy deVine (self proclaimed Temporary Residence "overlord") convinced us to leave the mild December climate of Austin, Texas and to drive northeast to Baltimore (where Temporary Residence was based at the time) and record what would be our second record and our first for TRL. This was in 2000 and our means of transportation was a barely functioning, deathtrap of a family van loaded with our equipment, our clothes, several bags of snacks and a massive boombox (there was not a working stereo in the van). The trip took us a few days and we think we played some shows on the way there, but the memories are a bit clouded. We found Jeremy's house and knocked on the door. He answered and invited us inside. The place was in shambles. Boxes of records and CDs scattered about, art supplies crammed into every corner. The physical manifestation of our new record label was a shelf made of cinder blocks and a few planks. Also, it was freezing cold. Jeremy informed us that the house had no heat because nobody had paid the bill. We were concerned. We all slept that night in our parkas and hats and gloves. Then Jeremy woke us all up at seven in the morning (Jeremy doesn't really sleep much and apparently doesn't need to) and piled us all into the van. We would be driving to DC where we would be recording the album. Our first actual day of recording was discouraging. We couldn't play any of the songs right and we were all really nervous. The four of us were convinced that we had made a terrible mistake thinking that we could record an album that a label would actually send to stores for people to buy. At the end of the day, we got back into the van and headed back to Jeremy's house. None of us were feeling very good. We then stayed up all night talking with Jeremy. We told him how badly we thought the first day of recording went and how it might be best if we just packed up and went home. He didn't seem concerned. He said he had faith and that he knew that it would turn out alright. Actually, he didn't talk much about this horrible first day at all. Instead he talked about music and movies and art and food and growing up. He made us all laugh a lot. Eventually we fell asleep. Jeremy woke us at seven again and we drove to DC. And things went well. We recorded for the next few days, waking up early, driving to the studio, recording, eating at the famous Ben's Chili Bowl, recording some more, driving back to Baltimore, talking, sleeping, dreaming. Less than a week later, we had a finished record and it was time to go home. We said our goodbyes to Jeremy. We were happy and sad. Happy that we had just recorded a record that we were all excited about. Sad because we had made a new, great friend and we weren't sure when we would see him again. We left. (We scheduled some shows on the way home. One was in Syracuse. The show was in the basement of a house. The police came during our second song and made us stop. The next day our van wouldn't start. We were stranded. We lived in the attic of some kind strangers. For eight full days we read books and watched blizzards and ate Chinese food and went sort of nuts. We almost missed Christmas. But eventually we made it home).

The final studio recording of the late, great Tony Conrad, and the first duo release with Jennifer Walshe. A wild, improvisatory flaying of song; the sheer sonic force recalls the ecstatic charge of Conrad’s Slapping Pythagoras, with Walshe’s clarion voice at the heart of it. A one-of-a-kind concoction whipped up by two fearless and often peerless souls. It’s a joy to hear their manifest mutual regard and commitment to busting a gut.

"This-is-a-remix-record-but-not-in-the-traditional -sense angle. Remix tends to imply that a song has been remixed for the dancefloor, radio, etc. These are 'remakes' in which entirely new songs have been written using primarily 'Wedding Song No. 3' (see DC 144) for source material. Features the work of Directions in Music pioneer Bundy K. Brown, as well as man from U.N.K.L.E. Tim Goldsworthy, Tied & Tickled Trio and Tetsua's DJ Your Food."

Kraftwerk is the self-titled debut album by the Düsseldorf band Kraftwerk. It was produced by Conny Plank and released in 1970. LP on 180-gram vinyl with gatefold sleeve.

“A sultry haze of shimmering ambient electronics and sparkling, effects-heavy guitar. Just what the ambient doctor ordered." - Electronic Sound

"Consumed in its entirety Late Spring is a soothing breeze, teleporting you directly to a grassy field in the sunshine – as transfixing as any record released thus far in 2021." - The Vinyl Factory

"The record sounds exactly like what you would expect with a name like Late Spring; it is a meditative, hypnotic look at the human condition and its emotional spectrum, as it attempts to grasp undefinable." - Far Out Magazine

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Japanese musician Chihei Hatakeyama is set to release his new album ‘Late Spring’ on 9th April 2021. An album of a humble nature, ‘Late Spring’ gently unfolds as a shared journeying experience through a series of rich and outstanding encounters.

An extract from the liner notes by Nick Luscombe:

"For an artist who typically works quickly, Hatakeyama considers Late Spring to be one of the more time-intensive records of his career – he started working on it in 2018, and completed it towards the end of 2020. For Late Spring, Hatakeyama re-examined his approach to musical performance, using a new amplifier and microphone set-up to playback and record his guitar and synthesisers. From the cathedral organ-like opener Breaking Dawn with its sub-aqua resonances, to the subtle drift of the closing track Twilight Sea, this record is a masterpiece of dense and beatific melodies. Drawn from evolving synthesised sounds and shimmering slow motion guitars, it combines these with occasional sonic elements that are best described as evoking computer code running through the veins of the machines like artificial blood."

Chihei Hatakeyama is a sound artist, mastering engineer, and record label founder who was born in 1978 and lives in Tokyo. He has performed for years under his given name and also as one half of the electroacoustic duo Opitope alongside Tomoyoshi Date. From his first full-length album ‘Minima Moralia’ (“Excellent” 8.1 Pitchfork) in 2006, through the subsequent 70+ albums that followed, Hatakeyama has created a mighty canon of work. His catalogue is spread across a number of highly-regarded labels, including Kranky, Room40 and his own White Paddy Mountain imprint. His release rate is unquestionably impressive, but what is even more striking is the continual high quality of each alluring album.