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Upgrade & Afterlife stands as a pivotal and singular recording in the catalog of Gastr del Sol, the duo of David Grubbs and Jim O’Rourke. Originally released in 1996, this album is frequently cited as a landmark of post-rock and experimental music, praised for its blend of avant-garde abstraction, folk minimalism, and a restless, exploratory spirit. The album opens with “Our Exquisite Replica of ‘Eternity’,” a piece that has become emblematic for many listeners: a slow-building, cinematic soundscape that combines mangled drones, brassy orchestral samples (from Hans J. Salter’s The Incredible Shrinking Man soundtrack), and electronic textures to create a sense of alien strangeness and emotional depth. The track’s title, inspired by a sign on a Japanese perfume vending machine, hints at the band’s playful conceptual approach.
Throughout Upgrade & Afterlife, Gastr del Sol continually subverts expectations: “Rebecca Sylvester” begins as a sparse guitar ballad before dissolving into ambient abstraction, while “Hello Spiral” and “The Relay” explore fractured electronics, shifting grooves, and prismatic vocal layers. The closing track, a cover of John Fahey’s “Dry Bones in the Valley (I Saw the Light Come Shining ‘Round and ‘Round),” features a guest appearance by Tony Conrad on violin, bridging American folk traditions with the avant-garde and providing a fittingly monumental conclusion.
Critics have described the album as “stark and minimalist at times, jazzy and far-ranging at others,” with a unique ability to make “background music that quietly asserts itself into the foreground”. Pitchfork noted its way of letting “folk and avant-garde abstract each other into something warm, minimal, and slanted”. The album’s cover, Wasserstiefel (Water Boots) by Roman Signer, further underscores its enigmatic and conceptual nature.
Upgrade & Afterlife remains a touchstone for listeners seeking music that is as immediate as it is strange, as spiky as it is immersive-a record that continues to reveal new layers with every listen, and a high point in the collaboration between Grubbs and O’Rourke




Holy grail of US roots reggae released in 1979. Old-style tip-on sleeve replicating the original sleeve. More Relation started in 1977 in New York as a backup band for reggae artists such as Melodians, Larry Marshall, Carlton Coffee, and Ken Boothe, but soon they started crafting their own melodic & deep roots reggae. They released many now sought-after singles such as "The Light", "Solve Them" and one self-titled album.

Quickly following on from last year's 'Ghosted II', the third Reichian kraut-jazz session from Oren Ambarchi and his long-time collaborators loosens the screws a little, inviting in Americana, dream pop and blues influences and zeroing in on the tiny details.
Ambarchi, bassist Johan Berthling and percussionist Andreas Werliin are familiar with each other at this stage to fully let rip. 'Ghosted III' is their third recorded set in four years, and although they're still led by the jazz-taught instincts that guided their subtle, minimalist-inspired folk-jazz-rock debut, they've unclenched their muscles and let rip this time around. There's a new-found, liberating slackness to opener (and lead single) 'Yek', where Ambarchi daubs his chiming guitar notes over Werliin's jerky rhythms and Berthling's unraveled bassline. Catching the desert dust at first, it hardens into a Tangerine Dream-cum-Philip Glass nu-new age shimmer before it comes to a close. And 'Do' pulls back the bluster even further, reducing Weliin's drums to a faint patter, and filling the gaps with Ambarchi's cosmic pad-like guitars. After the 'TNT'-era Tortoise in dub Leslie-powered euphoria of 'Seh', the trio get back into the groove with 'Chahar', pulling Ambarchi's fictile notes into an orbit of ratcheting drums and repeating bass plucks that concludes with a splatter of xenharmonic guitar tones.
They venture into Americana territory on the long, plodding 'Panj', padding the low end with Ambarchi's swirling organ-esque tones that transform into concertina-ing zaps, and the best is saved for last - 'Shesh' is a dream-pop/post-rock melter that's among the best tracks Ambarchi, Berthling and Werliin have recorded, falling somewhere between Labradford and Talk Talk. Gorgeous.



Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke's fifth collaboration remixes live material from their 2023 European tour. Pareidolia weaves improvised performances from France, Switzerland, Italy & Ireland into a dynamic sound collage, blending computer-generated textures with flute & harmonica. A meditation on perception & randomness.
For this collaborative release, Eiko Ishibashi & Jim O'Rourke edited and remixed material captured at shows they played during a lovely two week tour through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland in April 2023. Pareidolia shapes an ideal collage from the best resonances and relationships from those nights. A dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air around you, appealing to your suggestibility, wherever you find it - "the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern; to see shapes or make pictures out of randomness."
Eiko Ishibashi and Jim O'Rourke toured Europe for two weeks in 2023, a wonderful passage through France, Switzerland, Italy and Ireland. Pareidolia, the duo's fifth collaborative release, is a remix made up of resonances from those shows. The movement of sound in each performance and the relationships of sound between them; a dynamic medley of colour and shape to pulse through earbuds, speaker cones and the air immediately surrounding you. Improvisation is the preferred collaborative mode for Eiko and Jim. They both prepare separately, without discussing anything beforehand. The dialogue in the moment determines the performance; anything that takes place is a possible point of departure, allowing for a unique experience each time they play. These 2023 shows marked the first time Jim and Eiko had played together outside Japan. Perhaps the flow of parts unpacked from their respective computers was inspired by the experiences of the tour: the nature of the assembled audience, the quality of the meal on the day at hand. Additionally, Eiko played flute and they both played a bit of harmonica intermittently throughout the performances. These live acoustic signals were routed back to the hard drives, to provide further material to play with — and as they travelled, recordings of the previous nights' shows were among the materials for the next performance. With all this to play with, there was much fun to be had every night. Pareidolia's final mix is one further rearrangement of the elements — comping — say, a bit of Jim from Paris against Eiko in Dublin for a minute, before bringing them both back into the same room for a spell before another set of interactions comes into play. The choices and edits represented here make yet another unique dialogue, as well as a kind of 'best' version of what they were doing on the tour.
For us at home, the sense of inevitability in the parts as they flow together might suggest structure; happily, this occurs without Eiko and Jim really committing to anything of the sort. Their available sound sources could present as a hot-wired noise onslaught, with all faders up full. Endless possible interpretations to be had on either side of the experience! This is one of several ways that the LP title and sequence of song titles come into play. Listeners hearing something more should have a good look in the mirror and perhaps consider the old saying: "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."

A sequel to last year's sublime 'Spectral Evolution', 'Traveling Light' is a suite of weightless, uncannily beautiful jazz standards, transformed into orchestral drones and electronic chirps by Toral and his virtual band. It's flawless material that draws a clear line from Billie Holiday through Clara Rockmore, Fripp & Eno and Alvin Lucier to MBV and Gastr del Sol and beyond. Unmissable gear, from one of the scene's unassailable legends. Culture never emerges from a vacuum. It accumulates and evolves, building on what occurred before and gleaning influence from what happened nearby; the more cultural threads converge, the more complex, nuanced and developed the resulting braids become. Toral acknowledged this fact quite brazenly on last year's 'Spectral Evolution', bringing over a decade of impenetrable off-world experimentation to a halt and shoving his bare hands into the creative soil that inspired iconic tomes like 1995's 'Loveless'-inspired masterpiece 'Wave Field' and the meditative Éliane Radigue-cum-Rhys Chatham 'Violence of Discovery And Calm of Acceptance'. Taking a dip in the pool of concepts that eddy underneath rock music's labyrinth of caverns, he referenced Duke Ellington and George Gershwin, turning vintage progressions into idiosyncratic contemporary gestures. And on 'Traveling Light' that basic theme is expanded again; here, Toral takes six recognizable early 20th century standards and applies a very similar treatment, augmenting them with additional "canonical jazz sounds" from clarinetist José Bruno Parrinha, tenor saxophonist Rodrigo Amado, flügelhorn player Yaw Tembe and flautist Clara Saleiro. Playing guitar and bass with his self-built ensemble of electronic devices (that includes a modified theremin), Toral lets his influences float even closer to the surface here, picking out familiar jazz and exotica flourishes, early electronic echoes and organ-esque polyphonic sustained tones that stretch across hundreds of years of musical history. On opener 'Easy Living', a Ralph Rainger composition from 1937 that's been recorded by Billie Holiday, Bill Evans and Rahsaan Roland Kirk, among others, the original chord sequence is slackened by Toral's sustained guitar tones and sine waves, but not blurred completely into impressions. This time around we're treated to more tangible shapes: Toral's cheeky, expertly rendered riffs, horizontal exotica-inspired rhythmelodic chimes, intimate woodwind breaths that pull us back to the '30s and squealing pitches that can't help but remind us of Clara Rockmore's Robert Moog-produced milestone 'The Art of the Theremin'. It feels like being chucked in the American cultural petri dish while new organisms mutate around you - everything's recognisable somehow but novel, peculiar. Lovingly valve saturated strums, bent by Toral's whammy, introduce 'Body and Soul' (a 1930 standard that's best known for being recorded by Frank Sinatra) before they're met by alien chirps from his arsenal of generators. But it's the willowy harmonies that buoy this one, echoing the haunted choral drones that prop up centuries of European sacred music. Toral's very specific with his references; when Amado's tenor moans whisper around the dense polyphonic hums, there's a tacit acknowledgement of the enduring influence of African American spirituals and gospel on folk, blues, jazz, country, rock 'n roll and R&B. The album's most affecting segment comes at the conclusion though, with 'My Funny Valentine' and 'God Bless the Child', easily two of the most conspicuous compositions of the era. On both, Toral hovers between clarity and abstraction, overlaying bone-dry fingerpicked improvisations on the former that scrape over Chicago's musical timeline, from "hot jazz" to post-rock, and finishing the album with Fennesz-like distortions that crack and dissolve into Saleiro's levitational flute tones. It's astonishing stuff, honestly - maybe not as immediately startling as 'Spectral Evolution', but refined, polished and concentrated in every way. You're unlikely to find a more moving set this year, that's for sure.
Writing a consideration of any portion of Pajo's voluminous catalog is quite the challenge. With the glaring exception of one rainbow colored cutout circa '03, it's been one love affair after the next for me and just about every record he's graced. Yet I find myself returning to make late night headphone excursions into the depths of Live From A Shark Cage on a regular basis, reliving my favorite moments like a ripe, juicy eructation of chili cheese fries in the middle of the night, or reveling as I have in the deja vu-like discovery of some clever plot twist unearthed for the Criterion edition of Brazil. The temptation is here to call it his Zoso, or even Who's Next, but that's unfair to all parties involved, and I'll leave such profane comparisons to the recently graduated music directors of college radio stations polluting the various interweb channels that pass for music journalism in this digital age we inhabit. Rather, Shark Cage deserves to be exalted in the same breath as Maggot Brain, The Payback, Stormcock or Miles' Pangea: modern masterpieces of minima built on subliminally insinuating rondos and vamps that echo not just Dave's own biorhythms, but a microcosmic take on the ur-pulse of the universe. In an era where the referential Lexicon shifts so rapidly that notions of classics and beau ideals scarcely linger as long as the sulfurous flatulence of your cubicle-mate, Shark Cage resounds as the beacon of fortitude in a sea of aural effluvia. If you are uninitiated, avail yourself. If you've been to the fountain, quench yourself again. - Bundy K. Brown

Tommy Peltier's Echo Park, compiled of unheard tapes from the early/mid 1970s, brings us into contact with a long-extinct creature — equal parts slinky hipster, universal soldier of the heart and snuggly loverman — the light-rockin’ tinseltown troubadour, the likes of which hasn’t been served around Hollywood since 1979! Tommy’s somewhere in the tuneful tradition of Rupert Holmes, Stephen Bishop, Andrew Gold, David Batteau and of course, Captain Fantastic and the Thin White Duke. His soulful songs and high-pitched vocals (he was once called “Tom Rapp on helium”) are paired with the requisite chopsy, jazz-enriched LA players, entrancing the ear with grooves and performances both tasty and sweet. Mixed and mastered with great zest by Jim O’Rourke (he brought new life to recordings of a similar vintage for Judee Sill’s posthumous Dreams Come True back in 2005), Echo Park is an encompassing trip through a whole other time and place. A trumpet player since childhood, Tommy felt no need for pop music; he’d come of age during the west coast jazz explosion of the 1950s, hearing Gerry Mulligan and Chet Baker’s legendary performances at The Haig Club, just a mile west of MacArthur Park. Inspired by the departures of the Ornette Coleman Quartet, he founded The Jazz Corps in 1963, gigging all around around town, including a residency at Hermosa Beach’s also-legendary Lighthouse. Their sound was captured on a stellar 1967 Pacific Jazz release featuring Roland Kirk. Jazz was Tommy's game, but when he injured his side playing lead parts in a big band, he couldn’t blow for long without aggravating it. Something had to give. Fortunately, there was a lot of giving in those days. In ‘68, he met aspiring singer/songwriter Judee Sill. He found her energy amazing, as she played bass in a group he was sitting in with, and it quickly became clear—he and Judee were in tune! When Tommy picked up the guitar and started writing songs, she was there with help and encouragement. As the '70s dawned, Tommy was turning 35, but he was also turning the page, like so many others, to find something amazing there on the other side. Amazing music things flow freely up and down the tracklist of Echo Park. Inspired — not influenced — by Yes, Supertramp, ELO, Queen, Bowie, The Beatles and others, Tommy developed and honed his new music throughout the '70s. A handful of the cuts here were recorded between 1970 and ‘73, just a mile from Echo Park Lake, at an unassuming rear house set back in the hills (that Tommy’s been a resident of since 1966!). Other tracks were recorded at sessions in Hollywood in 1975 and ‘76, at now-obscure studios like Music Grinder and Heritage. Tommy was tight with a great bunch of guys: guitarist Art Johnson, who worked with far-out jazzers like John Klemmer, Paul Horn and Tim Weisburg, and was a member of the progressive jazz collective The Advancement; keyboardist Richard Thompson, whose studio rounds included The Association, John Hartford and Gábor Szabó; bassist Wolfgang Melz, who played with peaceful, easy folkies Hedge & Donna, Mark-Almond and Daniel Moore, plus Charles Lloyd, Szabó, Klemmer, and the psychedelically wigged Gravity Adjusters Expansion Band. Judee Sill’s on a couple songs too, as are former Jazz Corpsmen Lynn Blessing and Bill Plummer. Tommy’s first pop band, Jasmine, appear on “Here Today” — his very first vocal composition, and the earliest recording here. Lots of great times and great songs, but no contract.... which turns out to be our gain, as we release them today! Tommy has continued to play music, releasing new stuff with Plastic Theatre Art Band in 1996, and a number of releases under his own name, most recently in 2011. And at the ripe young age of 90(!), he’s still playing today! Mixed and mastered by Jim O'Rourke, Echo Park is a high-flying journey through the past.


Mats Gustafsson meets Jan St. Werner in 2019 when they both perform with Peter Brötzmann and a group of prolific improvisers for three days at Flutgraben in Berlin. Mats and Jan notice their mutual passion for performing not just inside spaces, but also with them, activating environments and shaping sound through diversion. Mats introduces Johan Berthling, whose complex bass explorations complement the frantic jitter of Mats’ saxophone and pedals, and Werner’s digital nerdery. The trio instantly agrees on sound as a physical material, one that can bend, shift, and move anywhere within instants. They establish musical forms only to immediately dissect and reassemble them again. It’s a nervous ride: a hyperactive conversation, keen on detail and open to argument. Though IFANAME’s sound is instantly graspable, it is also hard to pin down. Nothing seems stable, yet it endures, holding together like some kind of catchy glue that vaporizes as quickly as it forms. IFANAME is question and concern; it is music as much as it is movement. It is attention, care, curiosity, and disaster. Wherever IFANAME came from, there is much more waiting, ready to burst and reshape in front of and inside your ears.

Soft Echoes presents the first physical edition of In a Few Places Along the River by Abul Mogard as a limited run of 500 vinyl copies. Originally released digitally in 2022, the album now appears in its intended form, marking the label’s second release. Three long pieces, composed between 2019 and 2022, emerged from Mogard’s meticulous experimentation with analogue and digital instruments. Slowly evolving harmonic fields of layered drones and spectral textures drift across the record. They are enhanced by reverb from Scotland’s Inchindown oil tanks, which hold the longest reverberation of any man-made structure, giving the music a haunting resonance and a sense of suspended space. Against a White Cloud and In True Contemplation open the album with their nocturnal tones that gradually intensify into dense, immersive waves of sound. Side B is devoted to the 21-minute elegiacal piece Along the River, which flows between weight and silence, unfolding with reflective depth and moments of subtle transcendence. As one listener observed, “His music doesn’t break the wilful suspension of disbelief: you stay in its trance.” “Recording for this album began in 2019, when I was still living in London,” Mogard explains. “The first version of Along the River was created at my studio near Brick Lane. It started with experimenting around a chord progression inspired by a classical piece I had once been recommended, though, strangely enough, I no longer recall what it was. Early in 2022, I revealed the identity behind Abul Mogard and wanted to mark this new period, so I decided to release it quickly, by myself, as digital-only.” After returning to Rome, Mogard created the other two pieces, working with new digital instruments alongside his modular synthesiser, and integrated recordings from the London sessions. The music reveals a patient attention to texture and space, defining his usual restraint. Mogard adds, “I was trying to explore very subtle changes in the spectral characteristics of the music using extremely slow, intertwined tones.” Described by critics as one of Mogard’s most melancholic and absorbing releases, the album maintains an austere beauty and contemplative weight, leaving a lingering impression that lasts far beyond the final note. The music has extended beyond the album itself, with tracks appearing in films and contemporary artworks. Most notably, Swedish artist Peder Bjurman’s Slow Walker audiovisual installation and French filmmaker Fleuryfontaine’s politically charged animated film Soixante-sept millisecondes. Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri and cut to vinyl by Lupo, the record emphasises the clarity and depth of Mogard’s frequencies, with each layer precisely balanced. The cover artwork and design are by Marja de Sanctis, who has collaborated with Abul since his first cassette release in 2012.
Ball of Eyes, released in 1971, is the debut album by the Belgian jazz-fusion group Placebo, led by keyboardist and composer Marc Moulin. Unlike the more well-known British alternative rock band of the same name, this Placebo carved out a distinct identity in the early 1970s European jazz scene, merging soulful grooves with rich brass arrangements and experimental textures. While many contemporary jazz acts leaned into chaotic free-form structures, Ball of Eyes opts for carefully arranged compositions that emphasize rhythm, melody, and atmosphere. Though not widely known upon its release, the album remains a landmark in Belgian jazz and a testament to Marc Moulin’s visionary fusion of jazz, funk, and soul aesthetics.
Definitely ahead of its time, Black Jade approach was very sophisticated, creating more than a serious cult in downtown London. While their debut ‘Contempo’ was a ‘religious’ dub affair, their sophomore album showcased a more rootsy direction. Published as a mere private press in the second half of the seventies, the album is finally available in a long overdue re-issue.
Peel Sessions 1973-74 is a unique collection showcasing the legendary German experimental rock band’s dynamic live performances captured for BBC Radio 1’s John Peel sessions. This album brings together raw, electrifying recordings from 1973 and 1974, highlighting Can’s groundbreaking sound that blended psychedelic rock, avant-garde, and improvisational music. Fans and newcomers alike will experience the band’s creative energy and innovative spirit in an intimate setting outside the studio.
Featuring tracks that emphasize hypnotic rhythms, ecstatic grooves, and visionary experimentation, Peel Sessions 1973-74 stands as a vital document of can’s influential role in shaping modern music. Collectors and enthusiasts can look forward to remastered audio quality and detailed liner notes providing insight into the sessions' historical context.
The collaborative album 5 Na Bossa was originally released in 1965 on Philips Brazil and featured some of the top player of the genre. If you are into the sound of Nara Leão, Edu Lobo, and Tamba Trio, this is a magical encounter, bringing together Nara's soft voice, Edu's battering guitar and Tamba's swinging vocals. Featuring classic compositions like "Reza" and "Zambi," this album is a must have for any fans of the Latin jazz legacy. The set was recorded live at the Paramount Theater in Sao Paulo.</p><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-85Jppslh3Y?si=rsptB66Qkhg3Gbkh" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe
