MUSIC

During the last half-decade Joe Westerlund became engrossed in studying the clave, the metric pattern that first defined so much Afro-Cuban and Latin music and then drifted into almost every corner of jazz and rock. What did it mean for an idea to be so flexible, for it to fit so many forms while retaining its own essence? The result is aleap into the unknown for Westerlund: Curiosities from the Shift, a 12-track playground of endlessly interwoven beats and melodies, where Westerlund’s clave enthusiasm collides with his textural experimentalism, where his rhythmic symphony of one shakes hands with friends decorating this space alongside him.The three-piece suite that holds Curiosities’ first half begins with the junkyard percussion and delightful bass splashes that frame “Tem” and ends with the surrealistic boom-bap of thumb pianos and shakers on “Can Tangle.” There is a hard-won joy to these numbers, as if Westerlund is delighting in real time in spotting a potential dead end but finding his own way forward, anyway. Those songs became a kind of working roadmap for the terrain that Westerlund explores across Curiosities, from the call-and-response glory of opener “Nu Male Uno” to the uncanny amorphousness of closer “Felt Like Floating.” All of these songs are defined by an identifiable rhythm, like the loping strut at the center of “Midpoint” and the head-nodding pulse that winds through “Persurverance,” winkingly misspelled to suit his North Carolina-via-Wisconsin pronunciation. But those are springboards for other textures, moods, and notions, like the New Age references—shimmering metallophones, chattering birds, retiring flutes—that circle through “Midpoint” or the dub-indebted delays and gamelan hymns that bubble up through “Persurverance.” This is deeply multivalent music, each number’s propulsive core counterbalanced by a series of surprising choices. Bittersweetness and joy, grief and liberation, sighs and smiles: It all exists here, tangling toward infinity.In the months after the initial sessions were done, Westerlund reached out to friends—Califone’s Tim Rutilli, saxophonist Sam Gendel, trumpeter Trever Hagen, and violinists Libby Rodenbough and Chris Jusell among them. These were his most thoroughly composed and precisely built works ever, but he wanted to hear what happened when his pals responded in real time. They delivered grace, depth, and feeling, with their parts pulling back curtains on hidden recesses of rhythmic worlds.Westerlund readily admits he is surprised by the album’s insistence on groove and meter rather than drifting abstraction. Having lived and worked so long with bands, he assumed he was done functioning within basic meter. These 12 songs fuse so many of Westerlund’s loves into pieces that are endlessly fascinating, using familiar elements to render his adventures into the unknown. Playful but tender, wistful but wondrous, driven by beats but not bound by them, this is Westerlund’s definitive statement so far, the solo drummer record that opens wide to reveal a musical and emotional landscape richer than perhaps even he imagined he might find.

"I And I Survive" is a 1982 EP by Bad Brains, released on the heels of their iconic self-titled debut album. Like the band's subsequent album "Rock for Light", the recordings were produced by Ric Ocasek. The release was previously out of print for nearly four decades. This reissue marks the third release in the remaster campaign, re-launching the Bad Brains Records label imprint. In coordination with the band, Org Music has overseen the restoration and remastering of the iconic Bad Brains’ recordings. The audio was mastered by Dave Gardner at Infrasonic Mastering and pressed at Furnace Record Pressing.

It just goes to show that a 3.5 score on Pitchfork doesn't matter in the end. Not that the taste-making site would review anything with less popularity than Charlie XCX these days but if it did (and they dared still give low scores) then in twenty five years time rest assured that the album will be getting a luxury reissue. That's basically what's happened with Tristeza's lovely shimmering post-rock album Dream Signals In Full Circles back out after twenty five long years.

Hard Texas funk from the celebrated San Antonio scene. As Abe Epstein was tracking West Side brown-eyed soul groups on General McMullen Blvd., Mickey Foster and his biracial Soul Generation band were answering James Brown's call to get on the good foot just south of the River Walk. Collected here are a dozen of their swaggiest and crook-legged instrumentals, a mood building survey of the band's 1969-'77 run, including the paper hit knee-wobbler "Iron Leg." Chop up your next sample here.

Trapped on Nantucket island over the winter of 1976, a set of original songs poured into Willie Wright's cover-heavy set. Tales of Wright's native roots, straight life, his abandoned four children, and the many women he had known flooded his loose leaf notebook before finally being set to tape in New York the following spring. Tracked with George "Buzzy" Bragg and Herry Jensen (of Skull Snaps and Jimmy Castor Bunch fame, respectively) in one day with minimal overdubs, Telling The Truth was, and would remain, Willie Wright's brightest and most inspired moment. Sold from the trunk of a car and from a handful of resort stages, the humble album disappeared into the collections and garages of Nantucket tourists, taking what was left of a near-30-year career along with it. Available for the first time since 1977, this expanded edition of Telling The Truth gathers Wright's lone 45 and only original composition from his first LP to tell the definitive Willie Wright story. The deluxe LP edition includes a replica 7" of his cover of Curtis Mayfield's "Right On For The Darkness" (with his original "Africa" on the flip), while the CD takes that same single and shrinks it to a portable 4.72" record that actually plays!

Jad Fair of cult lo-fi pioneers Half Japanese has a discography that stretches across decades and countless collaborations. In the 1990s, he worked with his favourite bands—Daniel Johnston, The Pastels, Sonic Youth, Teenage Fanclub, and Yo La Tengo—cementing his reputation as one of underground rock’s most prolific and unpredictable figures.

Originally released in 1998 on Matador, Strange But True pairs Fair with Yo La Tengo for a set of wildly inventive songs whose lyrics were drawn from outrageous tabloid headlines. The result is a playful, off-kilter, and genre-hopping record that captures both Fair’s irreverent imagination and Yo La Tengo’s restless versatility.

Unavailable for years, this cult favourite now returns thanks to Joyful Noise and Bar/None, bringing back a lost gem of the ’90s indie underground. Equal parts oddball and inspired, Strange But True is a reminder of a time when indie rock thrived on eccentricity and freedom.

‘Fragments’ is the debut album from Beak> co-founder Billy Fuller. "Although this is a solo album, it’s not a solo album in the traditional sense of representing an artist’s thoughts and feelings during a particular time frame. This is a record that spans time as it collects fragments of Billy creating alone in his home studio over the last few years. Through listening, one gets the impression of art that sometimes has a vision in mind, and is sometimes just the product of someone enjoying the process of creating in the moment. During the break in Beak> activity in early 2025, Billy revisited his collected compositions and found that there was a common thread, a cohesive atmosphere. Every single track on this album was created by Billy alone, and his personality threads itself through the 16 tracks. He likens the process of compiling the tracks to making a cassette compilation for a friend when he was a kid. Fragments is moody, immersive, and utterly unbound. Across the album, kosmiche-inflected, hauntological electronica plays freely with melody, finding emotional resonance for our unpredictable times. Neu-esque repetitions and motorik grooves pulse beneath skewed electro textures, and occasional spoken-word passages drift in and out like transmissions from an unknown broadcast. Occasional flashes of psychedelic prog guitar cut through hazy atmospheres, edging the sound further toward Fuller’s own kind of hypnagogic pop, that is strange yet deeply human. Fragments isn’t an album about singles, or trends. It’s music for the love of making music, by a musician who hasn’t stopped making and releasing new music for over 25 years. It is a self-effacing triumph of musical freedom."

As Green-House, musicians Olive Ardizoni and Michael Flanagan engage human nature and the natural world through joyous, dynamic synthesis. Overlaying frequencies and expressions like camouflage, their deeply layered collaborative process begins with either artist; Ardizoni is often drawn to melody, Flanagan to harmonics. The power lies in how their ideas helix together, achieving a depth greater than the sum of its parts. For their first LP with new label home, Ghostly International, Green-House grows and refines their vivid instrumental songcraft with uncharted, genre-defying freedom and movement, a more active, percussive, and emotion-filled energy, marked by flowing bodies of sound and sweeping vistas. Hinterlands tunes into the beauty of the world with defiant, radical sincerity.

Since 2020, across a catalog of acclaimed releases via the scene-creating Los Angeles imprint, Leaving Records, the duo has pursued a curiosity in environments, reaching for innate and faraway spaces by way of organic and synthetic instrumentation, high-definition sound design, and “idiosyncratic melodies crafted with the patient and methodical hand of a gardener,” writes Pitchfork. Green-House doesn’t fit neatly into any single category. Ardizoni and Flanagan aren’t aligned with New Age ideologies or spirituality, and the ambient tag feels increasingly limited given all that’s going on in their songs, which skew closer to the realms of IDM or even modern classical on their new album. What remains inherent is an open sense of wonder, “the idea of legitimizing certain emotions within music that often aren’t taken seriously in art, like happiness and joy,” says Ardizoni, whose eclectic personality shines through even without lyrics.

They welcome influences from all over; moments on Hinterlands evoke hypnagogic folk, tropical synth-pop, pan-flute mountain music, jazzy lounge, film scores, library sounds, and other forms of paradise-world-building. The duo simply makes the music they want to hear, earnestly dreaming of idyllic settings, their hope borne of necessity.

Like any artist living in Los Angeles, the 2025 wildfires disrupted any semblance of normalcy in creative life. However, they give careful consideration to how ever-looming environmental and political anxiety may relate to the project. “There's freedom in music, not requiring nuance in order to share an emotion or a fantasy or a utopian ideal with others,” Ardizoni says. “I'm an anarchist and an artist. I don't have to explain that. I can just put the emotion in and hope that it can be used as a tool, to be comforting or inspiring for people.”

As their third LP, Hinterlands is notably fuller, bigger-feeling than past work; brimming with kaleidoscopic guitar lines, bubbling synth textures, and an orchestral radiance that often registers as more than just two people. They bring up biomimicry — learning from and adapting alongside nature — as a formative notion. “When we’re talking about mimicry, it is also like projecting yourself as being larger in a certain way, in a sonic sense, sounding like a full band, but also as people, interconnected with a broader world,” says Flanagan. “This record is us letting go a little bit as well, giving ourselves the freedom to just write and see what happens, to let the music grow naturally.” Ardizoni adds, “We try to utilize what’s right in front of us, just being in an urban environment and making do with what's there in order to continue to foster that connection we have to the natural world.”

Ardizoni and Scott Tenefrancia shot the images that appear within the droplets of the LP’s artwork on a trip to Yosemite and the Inyo National Forest; Flanagan later magnified the scenes through the water with macro photography, using the droplets as a series of lenses. The striking visual serves as a fitting metaphor for music that straddles the organic and the digital — a collection of auditory microcosms developed through imaginative fusion.

It begins in the languid heat of “Sun Dogs”, which nods to the coastal sway of Haruomi Hosono's Pacific album and Paradise View soundtrack with washes of keys, horns, and strings. “Sanibel” is pure shoreline bliss, named after the Florida island a young Ardizoni would visit, growing up on the nearby Cape Coral Island (“my first real experiences as a human exploring nature”). “Farewell, Little Island” borrows its title from the 1987 short animated film directed by Sándor Reisenbüchler, which depicts the drowning of a village by modern technology. The track’s buoyant, spiraling guitar samples, their first time exploring the effect, reminded them of the film’s paper-cut animation and of how the story balances serene splendor with tragedy.

“Dragline Silk” conjures a curious trip. Built on a bed of ascending synth and guitar chords bathed in spring reverb (stemming from their shared love for Jessica Pratt’s latest album) and named after the natural phenomenon of spiders that use static electricity to sail through the atmosphere, the track soars with grandeur. The Hinterland suite is the album’s centerpiece, three tracks traversing wide hilltop terrain, with flute and guitar playfully surveying the scene (“Hinterland I”) before more contemplative strums and astral synth and woodwinds take hold (“Hinterland II” and “III”).

Hinterlands’ sequencing takes the listener from sea to mountains to somewhere more abstract and fantastical; late highlight “Under the Oak” possesses an otherworldly calm on warbled keys, followed by “Bronze Age”, even more subdued. “Valley of Blue” ends the movement in melancholy, overlooking a blue flower field with swells of synthetic strings and oboe in the style of Final Fantasy (Ardizoni originally called it “Memory of a Chocobo”). These traces of sadness permeate the otherwise effervescent collection, reminders that, behind the wonder, lies often profound worry (after all, Sanibel Island was nearly wiped out in 2022). Green-House makes sense of these feelings through their art, with genuine tenderness and refreshing conviction.

Between their early-'70s Epic Records run and name change to Anglo Saxon Brown for Atlantic in 1976, Richmond, Virginia's Ujima tracked an unreleased album of modern soul emotion sensors. Shelved for five decades, Numero has unearthed these recordings, pairing infectious floor filler "Maybe" with mid-tempo ballad "All I Want Is You." Pre-order: Release date is March 20th - Orders will begin shipping in late February

Following a string of successful Blacksploitation soundtracks (Shaft In Africa, Brother on the Run) uber producer/arranger/maestro Johnny Pate bankrolled a one-off session to combat the overwhelming pessimism seeping into the American experiment. "Go For It" combines disco hustle and Pate's signature strings while the self-titled flip employees synth squiggles and acrostics for dance floor dominance.

A trio of Kansas City soul sweepers, from the sprawling midwest burg's storied Cavern, Damon, and Forte concerns. Bump and the Soul Stompers' 1970 sweet soul double sider "I Can Remember" was a tail pipe-dragging, low rider classic in the making, had it ever been released. A few years later Jerald "Bump" Scott took his new group to Cavern's subterranean confines to cut the group harmony masterpiece "Living In The Past," but remained unissued prior to Numero's discovery of the Cavern tapes. As disco was cresting at the top of the next decade, Sharon Revoal tracked her James Brown meets James Bond stepper "Reaching For Our Star"—the last 45 released on Marva Whitney's peerless Forte label.

“‘A La Sala,’ I used to scream it around my house when I was a little girl, to get everybody in the living room; to get my family together. That’s kind of what recording the new album felt like. Emotionally there was a desire to get back to square-one between the three of us, to where we came from–in sonics and in feeling. Let’s get back there.” - Laura Lee Ochoa The title makes it clear. A La Sala (“To the Room” in Spanish), the fourth studio album by Khruangbin, is an exercise in returning in order to go further, and do so on your own terms. It extends the air of mystery and sanctity that’s key to how bassist Laura Lee Ochoa, drummer Donald “DJ” Johnson, Jr. and guitarist Mark “Marko” Speer approach music. Yet if 2020’s Mordechai, the last studio album Khruangbin made without collaborators, was a party record whose ensuing post-lockdown tour enhanced the band’s musical reputation far and wide, A La Sala is the measured morning after. It’s a gorgeously airy album made only in the company of the group’s longtime engineer Steve Christensen, with minimal overdubs. It is a porthole onto the bounties powering Khruangbin’s vision, a reimagining and refueling for the long haul ahead. A La Sala scales Khruangbin down to scale up, a creative strategy with the future in mind. It is also a response to the unique moment Khruangbin finds itself in now: following a decade spent cultivating extraordinary music paths, beginning a year when they'll perform for more people, in more iconic spaces, staging a live show that pushes a creative envelope peculiar to them alone. (Look for the band at major festivals and venues near you.) 2024 feels like both marker and pivot, cementing Khruangbin’s stature as a commercially and critically successful group that continues to be guided by creative possibilities. Such crossroads are familiar for iconic artists throughout the rock era — your Dylans, Stevies and Bowies, up thru turn-of-the-century Radiohead, all have navigated these straits. On A La Sala, Khruangbin also pulls exploration inward, spurning the din of the crowd’s expectations, mapping a personal direction home. The trio’s collective musical DNA and the years spent constructing it in Houston’s local-meets-global cultural stew ensure the band carries on sounding like no one but itself. A La Sala may in fact be Khruangbin’s purest distillation. A cascade of crisp melodies still emanates from Marko’s reverb-heavy electric, dancing gently around Laura Lee’s minimalist almost-dub bass triangles, while DJ’s drums serve as the tightened-up pocket and unwavering dance-floor on which all this movement takes place. Where prior album-by-album growth seemed to point the narratives towards music’s polyglot edges, such inquiries now sound like known intimacies. What once seemed like sonic invocations — spaghetti-western film scores, found-sounds, dancing moments more living room than rooftop disco — are ingrained characteristics. This is who they are! And there’s a freshness to the instrumental interactivity on A La Sala that’s less concerned with getting further out than going deeper in. That depth is not about therapeutic self-reflection, but a profound desire to celebrate the world’s external wonders. A La Sala invites intimate intercontinental partying. The first single is, after all, called “A Love International.” “Pon Pón” holds the band’s table at the West African discotheque; yet the joy now moves to the corner left of the dancefloor, where the back-and-forth between Laura Lee’s bass, DJ’s hi-hat, and Marko’s tuneful rhythm scratches, is a marvel of knowing head-nods. There’s “Hold Me Up (Thank You),” a familial sweetness in its spare lyrics, feeding off the rhythm section’s sturdy funk shuffle, and a chorus on which Marko’s guitar evokes both sides of the Atlantic in confident unshowy rhythms. They’re on “Todavía Viva” too, next to DJ’s noir-soul rim-shots, synth strings and a pregnant pause that is Laura Lee’s favorite moment on the album, the mood kin to the band’s glorious live interpretations of G-funk fantasias. And the rocked-up miniature, “Juegos y Nubes,” demonstrates Khruangbin’s Houston-born superpower to culture-mix, a dancing mood less concerned with worldly glamor than communal grooving. “I read something long ago, attributed to Miles Davis. He said, ‘When they play fast, you play slow. When they play slow, you play fast.’ And it's definitely how I've approached looking at music: Don't follow the trends. And if the trend is this, then do something else.” - Marko From the get-go, Khruangbin’s journey has been emphatically its own: a sound and visual representation with few precedents, ignoring pop expectations, relying only on internal inspirations, and a multitude of visions. It’s a mindset of penetrating the self, connecting to the surrounding world, modeling your own life experiences. This ethos is threaded throughout A La Sala, audible in the album’s form and function. (It’s even visible in the vinyl version’s physical package, which will be released as a set of seven distinctive covers and color-sets — more on which in a sec.) The building blocks for the album’s 12 songs were jigsaw pieces found in Khruangbin’s creative past. Having stockpiled ideas originally set down as off-the-cuff recordings (voice-memos made at sound-checks, on long voyages, as absentminded epiphanies), they began fitting those pieces together in the studio. Which parts were apt? Which could be massaged and stretched out? Which inspired new sections or rhythms or musical interactions? Once more, Khruangbin’s familial DNA kicked in. Layer-by-layer, the intimate work, rework and re-rework bore new fruit. They also brought back a strategy once foundational to their records: seeding an album with field recordings. Some results fold directly into A La Sala’s down-home feel. “Three From Two” and “May Ninth” are wistful mid-tempo numbers, with guitar melodies that reside somewhere between Bakersfield and by-the-riverside, cues that, for all its borderless inclusivity, another core Khruangbin value is being steeped in American roots. And in the landscape that music comes from. Like all albums prior to Mordechai, Marko made sure environmental sounds — natural and man-made — appeared as textures. (At times philosophically: the group recorded while cricket chirps played in their headphones, presumably for terroir.) It’s how A La Sala achieves such interconnected set-and-setting-ness. Other results are more metaphorical, especially in Khruangbin’s flirtation with ambient spaces. The dramatically beatless “Farolim de Felgueiras” and “Caja de la Sala” both feature only Marko’s unmistakable guitar dueting with Laura Lee’s Moog, lightly layered with sounds of shoes on stone steps, and cicadas in an open field. The closing “Les Petits Gris” more fully reduces and fleshes out the ambiance, with a piano and a simple single-note bass pattern, Marko’s plaintive spare guitar echoing the melody of a ballerina-turning music box. It feels an apt way of ending — as a passing of this particular moment, preparation for the next one, soon-come. Even the seven different covers that adorn A La Sala’s various vinyl editions offer a throughline from the music into Khruangbin’s current frame. Designed by the band using Marko’s multitude of travelog photos, they are windows from the band’s living room onto a set of daydreams, scenes of impossible skies, external glances illuminating what is going on inside. These are also directly related to David Black’s images of DJ, Laura Lee and Marko which accompany A La Sala, and to Khruangbin’s live staging reinvention. It’s all about looking out and looking back, in order to better look ahead. “All the little moments you capture. You don't see how impactful they are until you hear what eventually comes of them. A lot of those scraps end up being the thing — and you don't realize it until it's ‘The Thing.’” - DJ

Emeralds, the sophomore long player from Parlor Greens, finds the trio serving up a beautifully curated sampler of what funky organ music can be. On Parlor Greens’ debut LP In Green We Dream, they announced their existence boldly to the welcoming arms of funky instrumental fans around the world. Now, two years later, they’re back to up the ante. Three true masters of their respective crafts: Tim Carman (Canyon Lights, formerly of GA-20) on drums, Jimmy James (True Loves) on guitar, and Adam Scone (Scone Cash Players, The Sugarman 3) on organ. Seasoned and soulful pros coming together to make infectiously funky instrumental jams.

Parlor Greens are truly in top form: tour tight and more confident than ever in who they are and where they’re going. The album’s opener, “Eat Your Greens,” kicks the doors off with a Charles Earland-inspired four on the floor beat, with Jimmy and Scone driving the tune down the tracks like an overloaded freight train, it simply cannot be stopped. On “Red Dog,” the group channels the absolute heaviest shade of early R&B with Jimmy’s crunchy guitar paving the way for both he and Scone to take scorching solos. “Lion’s Mane” shows a slightly more sophisticated side of the trio, with nods to one of Scone’s organ mentors, the incomparable Dr. Lonnie Smith. Not to be outdone by his bandmates, Tim Carman shows off why he plays the best shuffle this side of the Mississippi on “Letter To Brother Ben,” a gospel-tinged shuffler.

And while the results are stronger than ever, the mood of this second cooking session was much different. The first time these three met in Loveland at Colemine’s Portage Lounge studio was marked by a certain freshness. It was new, it was the first time they had all played together. It was exciting, it was unknown territory. The session for Emeralds weighed much heavier on all three members. All three dealing with personal tragedies in their individual lives, the session truly served as a genuine moment of joy for the group. Just three talented musicians, writing and playing music now as friends in a familiar environment. No moment is the weight of the session more obvious than with the album’s closer, “Queen Of My Heart,” a tune Jimmy wrote for his mother shortly after she passed away.

So with a heavy and soulful heart, Colemine Records is beyond proud to present the sophomore effort from three maestros. Parlor Greens presents…Emer

Big Crown Records is proud to present the instrumental version of El Michels Affair’s 2025 instant classic 24 Hr Sports. The roster of vocal features on 24 Hr Sports is amazing, Clairo, Norah Jones, Florence Adooni, Shintaro Sakamoto, two different choirs, and even singing from the man himself, Leon Michels. The background vocals contributions are amazing; Lady Wray and Kevin Martin from Brainstory to name a few. But alas, there’s a new energy that shows up in the listen when you pair it down to the impeccable musicianship and Leon’s tried and true “Midas Touch” production. Leon plays a ton of instruments across the album and is joined by the regular cast of heavy hitters; Homer Steinweiss, Nick Movshon, Dave Guy, Marco Benevento, Hether, and more. There is even a saxophone solo by the late, great Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

Lady Wray makes her highly anticipated return with Cover Girl, her third album on Big Crown Records. The album opener “My Best Step” says it all, “my next step is my best step”, and indeed she is taking her artistry to a new high and making the best music of her life. The celebratory Cover Girl takes listeners on a free-spirited joyride glittered with ‘60s and '70s-inspired soul and disco, ‘90s hip-hop and R&B, and perhaps the most defining element, gospel. Following the healing journey that was 2022’s Piece of Me, Nicole has performed on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, NPR’s Tiny Desk, and toured the world. After this period of growth, Lady Wray is now ready to let her hair down and embrace all of what life has to offer. Reunited with producer Leon Michels (Norah Jones / Clairo / El Michels Affair) for the record, the outcome is effortless and undeniable, a reflection of their longtime collaboration that extends over a decade.

“I've gravitated more towards love and self-care with this album. Piece of Me was realizing that I was going to be a mother, and all those feelings were on my heart,” Lady Wray says. “Now I'm able to sit back and be a real boss. I got my career, my motherhood, and my marriage by the horns. I've grown into this more self-aware and beautiful flower for Cover Girl.” With an almighty voice, soul-stirring lyrics, and a magnetic personality, the singer-songwriter reflects her appreciation for her family, her faith, and her renewed love for herself—all of which drive her new record.

Lead single “You’re Gonna Win” is a report to the dance floor, feel good banger. Cole lets loose while naming and claiming her power “I do not care who came before me, after me there will be none” as she likens her company to winning the lottery. The Fabulous Rainbow Singers choir joins on the chorus taking the whole affair to church and putting it next to the finest gospel-disco records ever pressed. “Be a Witness” is a funky, mid-tempo powerhouse that would make Prince proud. Nicole finds the perfect groove over punchy drum machines and infectious synthesizers, singing about a love destined to happen, and spreading the good vibes to everyone in earshot. Cover Girl’s title track is one of the album’s most vulnerable moments. Lady Wray delivers a show-stopping performance over the stripped down track as she details her journey to finding herself again: “I lost myself trying to please someone else / I want to be me again.” The title stems from a childhood nickname she earned for her consistently manicured style. Lady Wray explains. “As I grew up and got into the music business, I lost that happy part of me. I see that happiness in my daughter, who’s just beautiful, talented, and smart. ‘Cover Girl’ is me going back to that little girl. It’s about getting back to loving yourself and healing.” Similarly on “Where Could I Be,” she reclaims the happiness and sense of identity that she lost focus of through life’s struggles. Nicole gushes about her love and respect for her marriage on “Best For Us” & “Hard Times”, both acknowledging the imperfection and referencing the strength and resilience of true love. She sings to her daughter on “Higher,” teaching her how to love and be loved, encouraging her to be confident and persistent.

Lady Wray was born to sing, sharing her soul and her life with us through her music. She has amassed a diehard worldwide fanbase with her relatable messages and incomparable voice. Whether singing of her struggles or strengths, there’s a comfort that comes from the way she makes us know we are not alone in any of it. Nicole Wray is inspiring and uplifting. Having been through a lot, she’s taken all of it and made herself a better person and a better artist.

“You need to rule your own world. Don't let anybody get in your way. You rock with your dreams until the wheels fall off,” Lady Wray says. “That's what I've been doing with my career since 1998. I know who I am and what I bring to the table. It's been a heck of a journey, and I feel so happy to be making the best music of my life.”

El Michels Affair follows up the massive success of their full length Yeti Season with The Abominable EP. A collection of unreleased tracks, alternate takes, and instrumentals from the Yeti Season recording sessions. EMA’s blending their signature cinematic soul sound with influences from Turkish Funk and the grittiest of Bollywood soundtracks yielded an instant classic The Fader calls “a carnival of dusty funk and soul.” The EP starts off with the unreleased gem “Messy Grass” whose synth intro, peppered with distant yeti cries, gives way to a tremendous backing track that Tamer Pinarbasi’s Qanun dances over. On “Cham Cham” EMA invites Piya Malik to the microphone again to share her styled storytelling vocals over the instrumental track from Yeti Season’s “Perfect Harmony.” Where some of the tunes on the EP have vocals added, some of them have them removed letting the band take center stage; “Poison Song,” “Uncut Gem,” “Smoked,” and “Progress” are all instrumental here giving them a wholly different energy than the vocal versions. The EP is being released with two different covers, each one has two paintings from different Ghanaian mobile cinema artists commissioned through Chicago’s Deadly Prey Gallery and are interpretations of the original album artwork. One version is paintings by Stoger and Heavy J, who also contributed cover paintings to the Return To The 37th Chamber album. The other version of the cover is two paintings by Teshie and Farkira.

What is Buck?
Buck is a state of mind, a way of life, a demeanor that gets you through the good times and the bad. If you ask Brainstory, It is also the energy that permeates their debut album.
Kevin, Tony, and Eric are a trio of brothers bounded by blood, fate, and a small town with nothing to do. Their story begins in the long lost lands of the San Bernardino Valley, in the twilight zone known as Rialto, California: An arid wasteland of boredom and empty lots. Through punk rock and skateboarding they found temporary liberation from the local monotony. However, it wouldn’t be long before a hunger for more led them to explore musical realms beyond that of the hardcore punk they admired. After stints at music school and steady disappointment trying to navigate their local jazz scene they moved to Los Angeles and Brainstory was born.
Through a introduction from Chicano Batman’s bassist, Brainstory caught the ears of Big Crown head honchos Danny Akalepse and Leon Michels. Shortly thereafter they were on their way to Queens, to record at The Legendary Diamond Mine with Michels at the helm. An instant chemistry yielded 10 songs in 10 days and now Brainstory has gifted the world with one hell of an introduction to all things Buck. Highlights include the sublime slow burner, “Dead End” which was the A-side to their first 45 on Big Crown that sold out in a matter of days. With Kevin’s sublime falsetto floating atop Tony and Eric’s unflappable and unmistakable backbeat, this tune has become a favorite with the ballad heads, the low-riders, and the slowie collectors. “Breathe” showcases another side of their sound taking a page out of the Shuggie Otis playbook and flipping the script with some stoned out west coast swag. Kev and Tony’s father, Big Tone, an accomplished performer himself, steps in on “Peter Pan” to sing lead vocals over a chorus of friends and family. Bassist extraordinaire, Tony, takes over lead vocal duties on “Sorry”, a smoked out, G Funk groove that is just waiting to be sampled.
These guys have come a long way from their self released EPs and opening tours with Chicano Batman. Their musical growth is undeniable, and taking their California sunshine vibes and mixing them with Michels’ NYC aesthetic has proven to be an amazing combination. It’s a debut record that pulls influences from so many genres seamlessly it’s hard to nail down. Call it Funk, call it Rock, call it Soul, but over here at Big Crown HQ, we’ve decided to call it BUCK. 

This Record Store Day 2026, Strut proudly presents Nuclear War, a powerful collaboration between UK collective The Heliocentrics, Sun Ra Arkestra legends Marshall Allen and Knoel Scott, and vocalist Bilal - issued on limited-edition “hazardous” orange and yellow vinyl.

The Nuclear War recordings stem from a rare session at Malcolm Catto’s Quatermass Sound Lab in January 2015. The group had assembled in London to rehearse for their performance at Gilles Peterson’s Worldwide Awards, where Allen received the Lifetime Achievement Award and Catto the John Peel Award. With The Heliocentrics’ trademark raw, psychedelic energy as the backbone, the ensemble captured a series of reimagined Sun Ra classics in a spontaneous, one-off studio moment, and these tapes that have remained unheard in Catto’s archive until now.

The 4-track EP features a sinuous take on Ronnie Boykins’ ‘Angels And Demons At Play’ , originally recorded in 1960, a strident version of ‘Where Pathways Meet’ which was originally created for the much- loved Sun Ra Lanquidity album in 1978, and a dense and deep re- work of 1972’s ‘Astro Black’ featuring Bilal’s incredible otherworldly vocals. The title track ‘Nuclear War’ is re-worked into a cavernous groove featuring Heliocentrics vocalist Barbora Patkova.

'Dear Children of Our Children, I Knew: Epilogue' is a new EP by Alabaster DePlume, recorded during the middle of his March 2025 US tour. DePlume had been playing shows with bassist Shahzad Ismaily and drummer Tcheser Holmes, performing music from his critically acclaimed album 'A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole' (released March 2025). The trio’s onstage rapport was so immediate and strong that, on an off day in Brooklyn, DePlume chose to capture that connection, recording this collection of instrumental pieces shaped by the experience of performing, sharing, and improvising off the music of A Blade for audiences across the US.

DePlume says: “Meeting with you all at the shows I sensed that you felt voiceless, on this ethical issue that also spelled out what we’re seeing today, in the form of ICE. That experience with you is etched into me, like graffiti or a poster on the wall. It’s my job to deliver your voice, and that’s what this record is. And to take action. That urgency compelled me to record then. And now here we are. As we said, this world is awakening to the reality it was already living.”

Dear Children serves as an epilogue to A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole, and as a companion bookend with his October 2024 EP 'Cremisan: Prologue to A Blade'.

As with almost everything that DePlume has put forth in recent years, the connection of all these works to Palestine is deep. The Cremisan EP itself was recorded in Palestine. Dear Children incorporates field recordings and samples of children playing and of normal life in the West Bank, and its cover art depicts wheatpaste posters of a drawing made by a 13-year-old boy from Gaza (used with permission). The inscription on the cover art says, in Arabic, “Dedicated to the mother of the martyr/witness Obaida Ahmed al-Qiram. May you rest in peace. From your student, the artist, Hasan Jawad Abudayyeh.”

1983, the 2006 debut album from Flying Lotus, will be officially re-released on vinyl as part of Record Store Day, as well as released on streaming platforms. The album, which was remastered for this occasion, will be available to stream on April 17th, while the physical release happens the following day on RSD. Brainfeeder Records proudly shares the release in a very full circle moment for FlyLo’s own imprint, and the title track ‘1983’ serves as a teaser for the album. A career that includes modern classics such as You’re Dead!, Cosmogramma, and Until the Quiet Comes began 20 years ago with 1983, Steven Ellison’s first LP as Flying Lotus. Made in the comfort of his grandmother’s bedroom, it broadcasts early transmissions from an artist just beginning to test his talents. Those talents are displayed in the music’s style, which draws from J Dilla, jazz, and Brazilian syncopation in a way only he could weave together. The Brazilian influence in particular played a significant role in Steve’s understanding of rhythm, a revelation delivered by a lesson from a street vendor in Copacabana. “It flipped my whole wig,” Ellison says, laughing at the memory. Lessons such as the vendor’s, along with his jazz heritage, interest in soundtracks, and interning at Stones Throw Records, are evident in these sonic collages. Though at its beginning stages, the sound present here is not that of a novice but of a visionary who saw what possibilities lay ahead, something encouraged by the label, Plug Research. “Give us the weird shit,” Ellison recalls them saying. It’s what ended up paying off in the end as 1983 kicked off a run of six studio albums, a body of work that encompasses just one scope of Flying Lotus’ output and influence.

On Interview with a Cat, Marcel Broodthaers turns a deadpan Q&A with a meowing interlocutor into a razor‑sharp miniature of conceptual art: a five‑minute 1970 audio piece where questions about painting, markets and museums collapse into one insistent “miaow.” ** Edition of 150 ** This limited 12" vinyl edition of Interview with a Cat restores one of the most mischievous and incisive works in Marcel Broodthaers’ oeuvre to its properly tactile form: a short audio recording cut into a disc, complete with a fold‑out insert carrying the English translation and transcript. Originally recorded in 1970 at his self‑invented Musée d’Art Moderne, Département des Aigles in Düsseldorf, the piece stages a seemingly absurd scenario. Broodthaers, in the role of earnest interviewer, poses serious questions about “new tendencies and trends in contemporary art” to a cat. The cat responds only with meows. What sounds, at first, merely hilarious quickly reveals itself as conceptually to the point: as the artist asks if a painting is “good,” whether it aligns with the latest shift from conceptual art to a “new kind of figuration,” whether it risks becoming a new academicism, the cat’s single, invariable language becomes the perfect mirror for an art world drowning in discourse and market speculation. Formally, the work is disarmingly simple: a voice, a cat, the faint resonance of the museum environment, five minutes of call and response. Yet this minimal setup opens onto many of Broodthaers’ core preoccupations. The Musée d’Art Moderne itself was a fictional institution that he founded and installed in real spaces, a long‑running project in which eagles, labels, vitrines and bureaucratic trappings were used to probe how museums create authority, value and meaning. Placing the “interview” there doubles the satire. The artist’s questions about innovation, markets, collectors and the fate of previous artworks are exactly the questions that haunt any institutional moment of aesthetic change. The cat’s refusal to answer in human language turns every enquiry into an echo chamber of anxiety. When Broodthaers finally arrives at the deadpan injunction to “close the Museums!” and plays with the Magritte‑echoing refrain “This is a pipe / This is not a pipe,” the piece tips fully into a poetic loop where representation, language and reality chase each other in circles, while the cat keeps on meowing. The vinyl edition underscores the work’s status as both artwork and object. To “own” Interview with a Cat is to own a record of a conversation that never resolves, a “document” that simultaneously mocks and inhabits the documentary mode. The fold‑out translation and transcript extend Broodthaers’ interest in the printed word as a material surface, where typography and layout participate in the performance of meaning and its breakdown. Listening on headphones or through speakers, one hears not only a relic of 1970s conceptualism, but a work whose humour and scepticism feel uncannily current in an era where artistic value is still framed by markets, labels and increasingly opaque discourse. Born in 1924, Marcel Broodthaers began as a poet and remained one even after he “became an artist” at the end of 1963, following two decades of near‑poverty and marginal literary activity. Briefly associated with surrealism and the post‑war “surréalisme‑révolutionnaire” milieu, he turned to making objects by literally embedding unsold copies of his poetry book in plaster, a gesture that fused language, sculpture and self‑irony. In the twelve years that followed, until his death in 1976, he built a dense, elusive and profoundly influential body of work embracing poetry, books, film, photography, slides, drawings, painting and sculpture. Again and again he tested how words and images interact, how rhetoric shapes our understanding of art, and how institutions script what can be seen and said. Interview with a Cat condenses many of these themes into a compact, accessible form - a tiny masterpiece of conceptual deadpan in which the most eloquent critical position belongs, quite literally, to the animal who refuses to explain.

A dub album released in 1978 and recorded at King Tubby’s studio. It features universal themes delivered through dubwise vocals and militant beats, all set against the sparse, stripped-down soundscape.

On Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978, SODS are caught mid‑mutation: from Copenhagen’s first feral punk band to the darker, more avant‑garde force that would soon become Sort Sol, in a barrage of raw tapes, sweat and beautiful mistakes. Formed in Copenhagen in 1977, SODS have long been mythologised as Denmark’s first true punk band, but myth usually arrives without tapes. Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978 finally drags that legend back to the concrete floor, offering a sequence of recordings that follow the group from its earliest, ultra‑raw convulsions to the first tremors of transformation into Sort Sol. You can hear how fast things move. In autumn 1978 they record their debut album Minutes to Go, a jagged, adrenal burst that quickly becomes a cornerstone of punk’s primal wave in Scandinavia. By 1980, with the second album Under en Sort Sol, the music is already turning more sombre, stranger at the edges, letting in shadows and a whiff of the avant‑garde. This new release threads those moments together, not as a tidy history lesson but as a sequence of volatile, imperfect performances, all fraying tape hiss and too‑loud PAs. The bulk of the collection is built around live shows from 1979 and 1980, spread across sides A, B and C in strict chronological order. These are rough, spirited performances of pieces mostly drawn from Minutes to Go and Under en Sort Sol, captured in the small Danish venues where SODS’ reputation was forged one flailing body at a time. Songs that on the studio records already sounded urgent here become even more breathless and unhinged: tempos pushed a notch too fast, vocals half‑barked, guitars skidding in and out of tune. The setlists trace the band’s rapid evolution, with the taut, riff‑driven blasts of the early material rubbing shoulders with tracks where atmosphere, dissonance and negative space start to matter as much as attack. Slotted among these is a single piece from Daggers and Guitars - the album that would not surface until 1983 as the first release under the Sort Sol name - heard here in its embryonic, punk‑era incarnation. There is also the “fantastic” outlier “Breathtaking Effect,” a song that, for unfathomable reasons, never found its way onto any original release. In this context it sounds like a missing hinge: catchy yet crooked, a hint of what SODS could have become in alternate timelines. If the live material shows a band learning to stretch inside the constraints of punk, side D rewinds to the moment before all of that solidifies. The final side is an ultra‑raw document of a high‑energy rehearsal from around the spring of 1978, recorded with no intention of polish. The fidelity is primitive, but that’s precisely its power. Here SODS are still figuring out how to play together, hammering at songs that are more attitude than arrangement, yet the chemistry is unmistakable: drums tumbling forward, bass lines trying to hold the floor, guitars sawing at the same two or three chords until they catch fire. It’s punk not as style but as bodily fact, a band using whatever gear and space they can find to force an entirely new noise into existence. Listening back from the vantage point of Sort Sol’s later acclaim, the rehearsal tape feels like the buried root system - gnarled, unpretty, essential. Across its four sides, Live 1979/80 + Rehearsal 1978 works as both archival excavation and still‑living shock. It documents the progression of SODS from feral pioneers to a group already leaning into darker, more idiosyncratic territory, but it never lets that story settle into tidy arcs. Instead, it preserves the grain of moment-to-moment decisions: the singer pushing a phrase too far, the band falling out of sync and clawing its way back, the electricity in a room when an unknown song hits hard enough to turn heads away from the bar. For listeners who came to Sort Sol through their later, more refined work, these tapes offer the jolt of origin, the sound of a band still naming itself through volume and velocity. For everyone else, they’re a reminder that punk’s foundational wave was not only written on records, but in nights like these and rehearsals like that - fleeting, volatile, and, decades later, still stubbornly alive on tape.

KITCHEN. LABEL is proud to present AGATE, the latest album by Japanese artist MEITEI, marking a deepening of the world he first shaped through his Kofū trilogy released between 2020 - 2023. Named after the mineral agate, a stone formed through slow accumulation, pressure, and time, the album reflects MEITEI’s patient approach to sound. AGATE brings together extended and newly rearranged works from across the Kofū cycle alongside new compositions and passages, refining material developed through years of performance and sustained practice. The album presents seven tracks: HAŌ (Previously unreleased track) SHIN-OIRAN (Remodeled from Oiran I, Kofū 2020) SHIN-SADAYAKKO (Remodeled from Sadayakko, Kofū 2020) SHIN-WAROSOKU (Remodeled from Wa-rōsoku, Kofū III 2023) KYŪGEKI (Remodeled from Shinobi and Akira Kurosawa, Kofū II 2021) SHIN-OIRAN II (Remodeled from Oiran II, Kofū 2020) SHIN-EDOGAWARANPO (Remodeled from Edogawa Ranpo, Kofū III 2023) Across these works, MEITEI expands the musical vocabulary first introduced in Kofū, a sound he once described as “lost Japanese mood.” While Kofū drew from fragments of folklore, theatre, ghost stories, and forgotten urban memory, it was never an act of historical reconstruction. Rather, it reflected a sensibility of the past observed from the present. With AGATE, this worldview is clarified as Shinpu, a process of discovery in which historical awareness becomes a foundation for contemporary creation rather than a constraint. During five years of Kofū tours across Japan, Europe, and Asia, MEITEI performed this material in a wide range of spaces, from underground live houses and listening rooms to culturally significant sites. These environments influenced pacing, dynamics, and structure, shaping how the material evolved over time. AGATE is therefore not only a studio album, but the result of material refined through repeated performance. If the Kofū albums were windows into forgotten eras, AGATE explores what lies beneath, sediment and strata formed through time and pressure. MEITEI’s approach to sound mirrors the nature of agate itself. Grains become texture. Texture becomes narrative. Voices drift through decaying layers of sound, while ancient instruments are used in non-traditional ways, forming distinctive percussive rhythms and melodies that appear and vanish without fixed resolution. The album’s visual materials were developed under MEITEI’s direction through physical art-making processes. The cover artwork originates from a letterpress print created by Kamisoe, a Karakami atelier in Nishijin, Kyoto, using Kyo-karakami paper. The original artwork, produced through traditional woodblock techniques on handmade washi, was subsequently reproduced on print for the album edition. Kamisoe continues to reinterpret this historical Kyoto craft with a contemporary sensibility. The title calligraphy was created by Bio Xie, whom MEITEI personally invited to participate in the project. During his performances abroad, MEITEI encountered in Taiwan a lingering atmosphere reminiscent of “Shitsunihon” — a sense of old Japanese memory that quietly endures beyond time. He was deeply drawn to Bio Xie’s distinctive use of Chinese characters, which resonated with this experience, and asked him to contribute to the visual expression of AGATE. In parallel, MEITEI continues to reinterpret Japanese sensibility through his concept of “Shitsunihon,” presenting it as a contemporary musical language. The refined Kyoto motifs envisioned by Kamisoe and the distinctive calligraphic expression by Bio Xie intersect with MEITEI’s singular artistic direction, weaving together a newly articulated worldview. The accompanying visual imagery, including the liner photographs, was created by photographer Hiroshi Okamoto, who was also responsible for the visual direction of MEITEI’s previous work, “Sen'nyū.” It draws from MEITEI’s lived experiences of winter seas, solitary cliffs, and breaking waves. These scenes symbolize the inner conflicts of the ten years he spent living in Hiroshima, and his confrontation with solitude and the sounds he creates. AGATE will be released on 17 April 2025 via KITCHEN. LABEL on 180g vinyl, CD, and digital formats. The album is mastered by Kelly Hibbert, known for his work with Flying Lotus, Madlib, and J Dilla. With AGATE, MEITEI returns to the material of Kofū with greater focus and discipline, continuing an ongoing process of working forward with inherited material.