MUSIC
6922 products

"What Can I Say" is from the CD reissue of Kick Me Hard by one of our favorite bands ever, NRBQ. "Yellow Sarong" is by The Scene Is Now, from their first album, Burn All Your Records, on their label, Lost. A really great album, as are their other two, Total Jive and Tonight We Ride -- you can never say enough about The Scene Is Now. Cat Stevens wrote "Here Comes My Baby" and did a pretty good version of it, too (really), but we didn't hear it until recently. We learned it from the Tremeloes, who had a hit with it somewhere in the '60s. "Emulsified: was the handiwork of Rex Garvin and the Mighty Cravers, and we found it on the incredible swell compilation At The Party, which no record collection should be without, Candy Records. It'd be difficult to wholeheartedly recommend the Escorts' From The Blue Angel reissue on Edsel, but equally hard to come down on an album with "The One To Cry." "Griselda" was sung by Peter Stampfel on the Rounder album, Have Moicy!, a record only Stephan Wichnewski could dislike. "Speeding Motorcycle" is on Daniel Johnston's Yip Jump Music, pressed up by Homestead. "Andalucia" is on John Cale's Paris 1919 (we recorded "Hanky Panky Nohow" from the same LP for a Ruta 66 compilation, with Georgia singing, and maybe that'll be out before too long). "Oklahoma U.S.A." originated with Muswell Hillbillies by Ira's all-time faves, The Kinks. "Tried So Hard" can be found on the Flying Burrito Brothers' 3rd album, the first without Gram Parsons, no classic. Fairport Convention also did it on Heyday; and of course, Gene Clark did it too, but it slips my mind as to where. "You Tore Me Down" is from Shake Some Action by the Flamin' Groovies, and if it's on that CD thing that came out last year, all the more reason to pick one up. And these are our second cracks at "Did I Tell You" and "Barnaby," which can be found on New Wave Hot Dogs and President Yo La Tengo respectively (as well as together on our de-lux CD) -- and we use the word "found" primarily as a figure of speech. Dave's group, the Schramms, with Al on electric bass, just released their Okra LP, Walk to Delphi.
While we await their sophomore full-length, Di Hotel Malibu, Thee Marloes treat us to a show-stopping two-sider. The A-side, “Under the Silver Moon,” is a stone-cold two-stepper that captures both the bitter and the sweet of long-distance love, set against a breezy musical backdrop. The musicianship and production pull you in from the first snare hit, while frontwoman Natassya Sianturi’s honeyed vocals conjure vivid imagery through metaphor and prose. On the B-side, “Through the Changes” reveals the most tender side of the band’s sound. Both powerful and delicate, the song reflects on how we imagine - and grapple with - what comes after death. Natassya yearns for company and conversation with a love who has passed, at times recalling shared memories, at others questioning the act of continuing to speak to and think about them. Her delivery is so intimate it’s impossible not to feel every word, as the band provides the perfect, understated backing.

Big Crown is proud to present Thee Marloes’ sophomore album, Di Hotel Malibu. It arrives as a widening of the frame — a confident step away from the lines that once neatly held their sound, and toward something more porous, conversational, and deeply Indonesian. It’s been two years since Perak, the Surabaya trio’s debut for Big Crown Records, introduced their unique sound. This new record doesn’t abandon that lineage so much as stretch it, showing how much they have grown as a band since the release of their debut and all the experiences that came with it. Composed of vocalist and keyboardist Natassya Sianturi, guitarist and producer Sinatrya Dharaka and drummer Tommy Satwick, Thee Marloes have always worked as a unit, their songs shaped by shared reference points and a lived-in sense of groove. On this album, that collective language expands. The arrangements move across a broader spectrum, with new instrumental colors, unexpected rhythmic turns, and a looser approach to structure. The band describes it as a response to the last two years of living: social realities, love lives in flux, and all that success has brought into their lives. The album opener “Under the Silver Moon” is a stone cold two-stepper that addresses the bitter and the sweet of long-distance love affairs over a breezy musical backdrop. “Six Years” is a page from singer Natassya Sianturi’s life and her struggle to take the step of leaving a comfortable and stable daytime job to follow her dreams of a full-time career in music. “Harap Dan Ragu” explores life, death, and the emotions that orbit them, opening with an earworm guitar riff that ushers in Sianturi’s honeyed vocals, this time in her native language of Indonesian. The album continues to switch vibes and tones track to track with the darker, more introspective “The More”. The gorgeous musicianship and pulsing drums are met with the deeply poetic lyrics that walk the line between futility and unbreakable resilience. Thee Marloes dip into their drop dead gorgeous ballad bag with “Through the Changes” with a powerful yet delicate song about how we imagine and deal with what comes after death. “Boru” sung entirely in Batak, a traditional language from North Sumatera, goes further into asserting heritage as a foundation and mission statement for the group while “I’d Be Lost” takes us back to the dancefloor with a light and lovely profession of love. In the end, Di Hotel Malibu is the result of the best type of inspiration: the global attention Thee Marloes have earned, and the chance to play their homegrown music for fans around the world has put wind in their sails. Enjoy the record, then catch them as they tour the globe. Soul Music from Surabaya, another Big Crown Sureshot.

Australia’s world-renowned cinematic soul outfit Surprise Chef return with new album Superb. A record that represents a change in their creative approach and turns up the heat in their music. Trading in their meticulous writing and recording techniques for a looser and less planned approach with the intentions of bringing more levity to the process, and it comes through in spades. The high caliber musicianship is still front and center, but they push their sound into a more energetic and fun place on this album.
Album opener “Sleep Dreams” is the closest thing to a Surprise Chef tune one would come to expect, but then lead single “Bully Ball” comes on and you get the picture that they came to kick in the door on this one. The song’s gritty drums thunder through the speakers and get covered with percussion, keys, bass, and guitar chanks that stay in the pocket and bring the funk with them. The band pushes the boundaries of arrangement with tunes like “Body Slam” that starts off like a sweet soul track then pulls a 180, turning dark and haunting, centering on a sound they created by tucking a timpani into a bathroom two doors down from the mixing board. That same sense of experimentation comes up again on “Fare Evader” where they pepper another neck breaking rhythm track with synth notes that sound like robot sound effects from a 70s sci-fi film. The fellas turn up the tempo for the dance with tunes like “Consulate Case” and “Tag Dag”; the former pulling influence from afro-funk and the latter from jazz-funk. They take us deep into the beautiful world of Surprise Chef ballads on “Websites” and double down on their abilities to make beautiful and ethereal tracks with “Dreamer’s Disease”.
With their new album Superb, their new approach, and plans to tour the world, we are about to see Surprise Chef take the step from the underground’s most beloved to a household name and we are definitely here for it.
Colemine is proud to present the newest 45 from Aaron Frazer's 'Into The Blue' LP. This one is a special one. Two cuts featuring the rhythm section of the legendary Cold Diamond & Mink, the backbone of the Finnish soul label Timmion. The A-side is a new cut, "It's A Shame". And it might be a shame this one didn't make the LP, cause it's a banger. Expertly chopped and arranged by Aaron and producer Alex Goose, the cut features tight drums, Aaron's trademark silky falsetto, and beautiful string arrangements. You'll be humming the hook for days to come. The B-side is the album closer on 'Into The Blue' and for good reason. Really feels like a sweet and soulful send off at the end of a movie. Lamenting the ups and downs of love, feeling foolish in the face of failure, but continuing to try nonetheless. Feels like a lost sample brought into the here and now expertly by Aaron and Goose.

Tennessee's Oliver James, a time-capsule of classic R&B sound, returns to the Colemine label with two new tunes pressed onto one must-have 45. The A-side features his first new track since 2022. '1-2-3' is an upbeat soul stomper à la Memphis and Stax. Nick DeVan and Vincent John (Eraserhood Sound) co-wrote the track; they finalized the instrumentals but were stumped on the lyrics. That's when James was called in, and he used his time working at a church to shape the lyrics that eventually became this number. The B-side was a collaborative effort with Nashville's gritty-funk ensemble The Gripsweats. It's an earnest song with lyrics inspired by James & DeVan's commiseration. "I'm no stranger to love that I used to know'," laments James; his favorite line of the song. Cushioned by lush string and horn arrangements, 'Nothing Is Forever' is a melancholy and heartfelt foil to the A.
Tennessee's Oliver James, a time-capsule of classic R&B sound, returns to the Colemine label with two new tunes pressed onto one must-have 45. The A-side features his first new track since 2022. '1-2-3' is an upbeat soul stomper à la Memphis and Stax. Nick DeVan and Vincent John (Eraserhood Sound) co-wrote the track; they finalized the instrumentals but were stumped on the lyrics. That's when James was called in, and he used his time working at a church to shape the lyrics that eventually became this number. The B-side was a collaborative effort with Nashville's gritty-funk ensemble The Gripsweats. It's an earnest song with lyrics inspired by James & DeVan's commiseration. "I'm no stranger to love that I used to know'," laments James; his favorite line of the song. Cushioned by lush string and horn arrangements, 'Nothing Is Forever' is a melancholy and heartfelt foil to the A.
Following the massive success of their sophomore album Fading Forward, Les Imprimés, by popular demand, press two standout tracks from the album on the coveted 7” format.The A side, “You & I,” is a feel-good, upbeat homage to the kind of love that endures “through the chaos and the blunders.” Punchy drums and keys create an undeniable two-stepper for frontman Morten Martens’ vocals to float above. Dreamers dream and dancers dance as Martens paints a picture of a devoted, understanding love that few are lucky enough to find. On the B side, Les Imprimés offer their take on the classic slow jam. “Miss The Days” unfolds gradually, with slow pulsing drums and building instrumentation that evoke longing and nostalgia. Martens sings of simpler times impossible to forget—moments free of adult responsibilities, when “it was you and me, hand in hand, sometimes wasted…” Ama Li joins him on vocals, transforming the track into a killer modern take on the classic soul duet, a tune sure to resonate far and wide.


Simeon ten Holt's landmark minimalist opus Canto Ostinato has a known magnetism. The piece's captivating harmony and winding structure prove an adventurous enterprise for any like-minded players embarking down its path, and it was at this very threshold that Metropolis Ensemble's Andrew Cyr, musician/composer Erik Hall, and the members of Sandbox Percussion all found each other. Their ensuing undertaking marks a world-class collaboration that yields an expansive and beautifully detailed new presentation of ten Holt's iconic work. In 2023 the New York Times shined a light on Simeon ten Holt, the late Dutch composer mostly unknown to the American contemporary classical audience. Featured in the story was Erik Hall in his Michigan studio, whose enthrallment with Canto Ostinato had resulted in his acclaimed solo recording on the label Western Vinyl. Taking notice was Metropolis Ensemble artistic director/conductor Andrew Cyr. He promptly relayed the album to Sandbox Percussion—each of them GRAMMY-nominated ensembles sharing over a decade of work together—and invited Hall to join them in re-orchestrating the piece for an outdoor summer solstice performance at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Now jointly feeling the piece's pull, the team crafted a sweeping new large-ensemble arrangement over six months, bringing into its orbit The New School's Sandbox Percussion Summer Seminar, as well as composers David Leon, Ben Wallace, and Ledah Finck and the Bergamot Quartet. The result was a luminous adaptation of the score, complete with mallet percussion, woodwinds, strings, and piano, garnering a recommendation from NPR's Morning Edition and culminating in sunrise and sunset performances for an enchanted audience. The project's momentum carried straight into the studio, as a new recording became imperative—a permanent document of the team's collective ardor for the composition. Spearheaded by Metropolis Ensemble, produced by Cyr and Hall, and arranged by Hall, Leon, Wallace, and Sandbox Percussion’s Jonny Allen, the interpretation extracts and reframes every line, motif, and arpeggio from the original score, expanding ten Holt’s piano manuscript into a prismatic chamber array. Recorded by GRAMMY-winning audio engineer Mike Tierney, the performance was captured in New York, 2025. Sandbox Percussion's array of mallet instruments maintains a unified and gracefully athletic expression of the piece's duration, while David Leon's octet of woodwinds overlay a kaleidoscopic tapestry. Eighteen strings—led by award-winning violinist Kristin Lee—provide cinematic, otherworldly depth. And Erik Hall's concert grand piano threads through it all, a passionately reverent preservation of the piece's keyboard origins. Altogether, a breathtaking new form for Simeon ten Holt's already-monumental opus, each element serving the whole while driving towards a rapturous resolution. Canto Ostinato, long beloved in its native Netherlands, is still a flame just beginning to burn in the US; a world just beginning to be discovered. But its gravity is certain. And the cohort of Metropolis Ensemble, Erik Hall, and Sandbox Percussion is honored to bear the torch and help continue to draw listeners everywhere to Simeon ten Holt's masterpiece of minimalism.

There is a certain solace to be found in minimal music—a contemplative joy that emerges through sustained repetition and subtle variation. Solo Three, the slyly absorbing new album from Michigan-based composer and multi-instrumentalist Erik Hall, embodies that hypnotic charge while boldly reimagining a distinct selection of contemporary classical works.
Hall’s affinity for minimalism began decades ago, when as a jazz-studies drummer at the University of Michigan he first encountered Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians. The piece altered his trajectory completely. Years later, amid a creative lull, he revisited that formative work by attempting a solo reconstruction. Working alone in his home studio, Hall painstakingly recreated Reich’s intricate, interlocking architecture—supplanting the piece’s orchestral palette with his own keyboards, guitars, and synths—and performing every part himself without loops, programming, or sequencers.
That recording, released on Western Vinyl in 2020, arrived during the fraught early months of lockdown and resonated deeply with listeners. Pitchfork praised it for making “a minimalist standard freshly thrilling to revisit,” and it won the 2021 Libera Award for Best Classical Record. Even Reich himself wrote to congratulate Hall, saying he had “reinvented the piece.”
Heartened, Hall next turned to Simeon ten Holt’s Canto Ostinato, a sprawling work of Dutch minimalism built on repetition and euphoric harmony. His 2023 interpretation was hailed by Bandcamp Daily as “mesmerizing as patterns emerge, coalesce, and retreat,” and the New York Times highlighted Hall in a feature on ten Holt’s growing influence. The project led to a years-long collaboration with New York’s Metropolis Ensemble and Sandbox Percussion, confirming Hall’s place as an inventive new voice bridging classical and contemporary practice.
With Solo Three, Hall brings this trilogy to a sweeping close. Instead of focusing on a single composition, he weaves together multiple works by several visionary composers: Glenn Branca, Charlemagne Palestine, Laurie Spiegel, and a return to Steve Reich. The result is a rich, varied homage to American minimalism—at once reverent and exploratory. Branca’s “The Temple of Venus Pt. 1” unfolds in oscillating organ and prepared piano; Palestine’s “Strumming Music” becomes a meditative blur of felted piano and guitar; Spiegel’s “A Folk Study” is recast with acoustic warmth in lieu of electronics; and Reich’s “Music for a Large Ensemble” closes the album with a 16-minute, kaleidoscopic rush of overlapping melodies and jubilant rhythmic patterns.
True to his method, Hall performs and records every part himself, layering instruments one by one like sonic bricks. The approach is deeply human and quietly defiant in an age of faceless automation. “It’s just so much more compelling to actually play every note,” Hall says. “Those micro-differences between takes create a sort of living, breathing magic.”
That living, breathing magic fills every corner of Solo Three. It’s both a reverent ode to the composers who shaped Hall’s musical identity and a vivid reminder that minimalism’s hypnotic beauty—its patience, precision, and quiet emotional power—still speaks urgently to the present moment.
- Zach Schonfeld

“How to begin? No beginning... never ending reverberation,” Antoine Beuger writes in the accompanying notes to Leo Svirsky’s River Without Banks. Dedicated to his first piano teacher Irena Orlov, River Without Banks is a mesmerizing, emotional collection of pieces that are simultaneously complex and fluid. The title River Without Banks comes from a chapter of musicologist Genrikh “Henry” Orlov’s profound work Tree of Music. In said chapter, Orlov traces the history of sacred music from the Western and Eastern tradition and how the forms (of the chant, raga etc.) sought to eliminate the division between the physical and the spiritual--the bank and the river.
Arranged for two pianos with accompaniment from strings, trumpet, and electronics, this is Svirsky’s first piece to approach the history of the piano and the possibilities of the recording studio, and his deepest dive yet into exploring the instability of listening and its transformation of musical semantics and affect. Like Wolfgang Voigt’s Gas project, Svirsky overlays romantic musical gestures to create a lush unfamiliarity. No sooner than each track begins the next moment unfurls beneath it, cascading time and blurring perception of past and present.
Akin to a multidimensional Rzewski thematic interpretation, Svirsky’s music defies genre-classification or classical ideology while its virtuosity clearly stems from somewhere from within disciplined traditions. Continuously revisiting, revising, and renewing its emotional core, River Without Banks is less an album of songs than songs of a singular, unlocatable album. Performed by the composer with assistance from Britton Powell, Max Eilbacher, Leila Bordreuil, Tim Byrnes, and recorded by Al Carlson.

Virga III is the third installment in Eluvium’s inspired experimental series – and the first in nearly five years. In unmistakable contrast to the dense, ominous sprawl of Virga II, the works that make up Virga III offer an almost divine reprieve. The nervous tension, loss of control, and patient recontextualization that inspires each volume of the Virga series manifests in unique ways. As composer and Eluvium architect, Matthew Robert Cooper describes, “While Virga I was brought to me by a temporarily evacuation from my house to my garage during a winter snowstorm – and Virga II by a phantasmal dream sequence during the height of a global pandemic – Virga III takes its inspiration from the worlds found in minor green spaces, culverts, and other miniature biological ecosystems operating within our daily deluge of cruel rhetoric, unspeakable violence, unending disruption and devastating disparity. A reflection on the micro and macro universes that surround us.” The songs on Virga III are composed and performed by Cooper, as always, but in the Virga universe, he essentially feels a unique collaboration within himself. As Cooper explains, “The Virga series affords me an opportunity to return to an older version of myself, but with a new level of understanding. Practicing more patience interacting with these built musical systems and recordings, I hesitantly duet with my past self in a new performance or manipulative layer, only after digesting the first for as long as possible, to a point of it conjuring new and uncharted feelings, in hopes of curating a sense of therapeutic self-awareness and discovery. A mixture of the exploratory mindset against a painterly emotional resonance, gradually unfurling itself unto itself.” The Virga III vinyl format is pressed onto crystal clear colored vinyl and housed in a full-color heavyweight old-style tip-on jacket. It is limited to a one-time pressing of 1,000 copies worldwide.

Wanda Felicia’s stunning debut album on Timmion Records, Now Is The Time…, delivers a dynamic selection of soul that feels both timeless and refreshingly present. Backed by the analog grooves of Cold Diamond & Mink, Felicia brings forth a suite of stories sunk in vintage grooves but made just right for any time.
With roots in New York’s house and acid jazz scenes – and after spending decades away from the spotlight – Wanda resurfaces with a seasoned voice and spirit, ready to impress anybody with a beating heart. Each track on Now Is The Time… feels lived-in: from the shuffling bounce of “Stuck On You” to the blooming optimism of “Flowers in the Garden” and the introspective funky poetics of “Reflections of Love.”
Throughout the album, Felicia’s delivery is effortless, elevated by Cold Diamond & Mink’s rich but tightly knit palette of rhythm section and horn riffs. Together they create a rootsy soundscape that channels late 1960s to early 1970s soul with a modern touch. Whether you’re drawn in by the beat balladry of “All in the Game” or the southern soul of “Until You’re Mine,” this album creates its own space beyond trends – celebrating craft, emotion, and timeless groove.

Ted Lucas’ Images of Life is a retrospective tracing the full scope of the Detroit songwriter’s work, drawing on hundreds of hours of tapes preserved by Lucas himself. Spanning early band recordings through to previously unheard later material, it captures an artist constantly reshaping his sound. Disc one, Strange Mysterious Sounds (1965–1970), documents his time with The Spike Drivers, The Misty Wizards and The Horny Toads, moving from garage rock into psychedelia. Rainy Days (1970–1974) shifts to intimate, acoustic solo recordings in the vein of his OM album. The final disc, Impossible Love (1979), presents a long-lost second album, revealing a more polished, hook-driven approach without losing his distinctive voice. A deep and revealing archive of a singular talent.
This album was compiled from original sources that have been lovingly restored and mastered. It represents a mere fraction of Connie's recorded repertoire.


François J. Bonnet – Banshee
Banshee is an ear directed towards the edges of the old world, where these infinite fines terrae cut and fractalize into coasts, harbours, fjords, peninsulas and archipelagos. Drawing its raw material from recordings made in the Inner Hebrides, Banshee tightly weaves a fabric where the sonic avatars of fauna, flora and climate merge with the human presence, its tools and its culture. Thus, a small boat cleaving through a loch becomes the voice of the mountains and wilderness, and the howling of the wind on the moors becomes the lament of a Banshee, harbinger of death, messenger of the Other World.
Sarah Davachi – Basse Brevis
Co-commissioned by Radio France and INA grm, Basse Brevis by Canadian composer Sarah Davachi was premiered at the Présences 2024 festival, which was dedicated to Steve Reich. Drawing on her own minimalist approach, Sarah Davachi explores, with extreme care, the weavings and complex relationships between the timbral, spatial and durational components of music. Using developments that can be appreciated over time, the composer manages to create music that is extremely precise, subtle and lively. But what is striking, and particularly evident in Basse Brevis, is that such an approach, both abstract and restrained, is nonetheless at times utterly poignant. The work combines moments of formal exploration with moments of pure emotion in a perfectly mastered fashion, creating a gentle tension as it swings between two modes of listening that navigate indecisively within both instrumental and concrete approaches, tracing, in parallel, a diagonal of sound that unfolds around perception, sensation and feeling.
François J. BONNET « Banshee » (2024)
Music composed from materials collected on the Isles of Mull, Staffa and Skye, Inner Hebrides, August 2022
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi / Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle
Photo by Didier Allard © INA / Sleeve design by Stephen O’Malley
—
Sarah DAVACHI « Basse Brevis » (2023)
Performed (electric organ, synthesizer, Mellotron) and recorded by Sarah Davachi at home in Los Angeles, CA, USA
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi / Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle
Photo by Sean McCann / Sleeve design by Stephen O’Malley

Alex Zhang Hungtai stands in stillness on 'Dras', but it's the kind of stillness that contains entire ranges of possibility. Recorded in 2019 inside Montreal's Saint Joseph Oratory (right before a piano demolition, no less), these nine pieces sat dormant on his hard drive through pandemic years until something finally clicked. What emerges now feels like watching someone trace the contours of their own interior landscape, each melodic line a careful negotiation with the unconscious. This is only a saxophone record in the barest sense.
The terrain here is tactile and unforgiving. On the title track, difficult melodies get torn apart and molded into emotive drones, dissonance interlocking where tones cut paths through the senses with metallic sheen. "El Khela" refracts into spectral layers that pull with eternal gravity, while "Estado" finds solace inside its own haze, rhythms barely audible but guiding forward with their cadence smeared against grey walls. These are small moments that become cathartic sonic breaths, each one revealing new passages through psychic geography.
There's beauty encased in the subtle repetitions of opener "Erg,” and in the glowing progressions of "White Dwarf." Zhang's saxophone becomes a dowsing rod for the uncharted, with electricity running through the album's veins while his breath anchors everything to something wordlessly human. The digital manipulation applied to those church recordings doesn't obscure that human element of 'Dras'. It transforms the raw material into something that navigates between external space and internal landscape.
By the time closer "Mazil" arrives, Alex Zhang Hungtai lets his saxophone speak its full resonance. Low, guttural expressions open up like chasms beneath melodic constellations floating in thick gravity. There’s a finality here even though something in these passages feels weightless. This is music permeated with inner dialogue, a wordless spell dancing above the psychic abyss. Tonal sequences disintegrate into narcotized sonics, a sharp elegant edge that cuts without drawing blood. This lonely work of exploration becomes something communal. 'Dras' is a map for traversing the space between where we are and where we might go.

Helado Negro returns with This Is How You Smile, an album that freely flickers between clarity and obscurity, past and present geographies, bright and unhurried seasons. Miami-born, New York-based artist Roberto Carlos Lange embraces a personal and universal exploration of aura – seen, felt, emitted – on his sixth album and second for RVNG Intl.

On the third day at Betty’s, Chris Rosenau woke up with a hangover. The night before, Nick Sanborn had played an all-electronics duo set with GRRL in the basement of a Durham club called The Fruit, so Rosenau—his friend for two decades, occasional collaborator for half that span—had tagged along. They were, they half-joke, the two oldest people in the club, so they went at least a little bit hard. Flip this record over, and there’s Rosenau that night, vodka and soda (with limes, please) in hand and looking delightfully impish. The next morning, in the middle of making their second record together, they were a little slow to wake, even slower to fully rise. In October 2017, Rosenau had flown from Wisconsin to North Carolina to spend a weekend recording with Sanborn in his little home studio. After years of knowing one another, their collaboration seemed inevitable but also accidental, a music-festival lark that had immediate chemistry. As they were rehearsing with the windows and doors open in those first perfect days of Southern autumn, they realized they were actually already making a record. They kept the working mixes and titles from that weekend, as well as the bird songs and traffic sounds that drifted into the microphones. The result was 2019’s Bluebird, a little five-track wonder that made you feel like you were sitting in the living room between the two, smiling as they found their wordless rapport. Two years later, as soon as Sanborn had set up the basics at Betty’s, his residential studio in the woods near Durham, Rosenau returned. They had fun during round two, but the sessions were neither as carefree as that first attempt nor more focused in a way that felt compelling and new. The pair decided to shelve those pieces for then and try again when the time seemed right. (They have, by the way, returned to those tracks fondly; expect to hear them in the future.) Then there was a pandemic. There were tours. There were other records. There was life at large. By the time Rosenau ventured back to Betty’s to try again, in February 2023, four years had flashed past. Both Sanborn and Rosenau came prepared this time by, well, un-preparing. Rosenau borrowed an unconventional guitar tuning he’d never tried (DAEAC#D) from a friend. And Sanborn dismantled his live Sylvan Esso rig, rearranged it, and added new bits, hoping to eschew any muscle memory for a real-time exchange with Rosenau. They instantly knew it was working, with none of the past’s second-guessing in tow. On that first day, a Thursday, they made “Ghost Sub” and “Harm.” On that second day, they had a false start with a piece called “Kay,” Sanborn’s synths not quite fitting beneath Rosenau’s riff, before moving on to make “Deltas.” (Once again to the cover: That’s the chord structure alongside Sanborn’s setup, superimposed on Rosenau’s face.) Back to that third day. When the pair finally got back to bleary-eyed work, they decided to give “Kay” one more go. Sanborn set the electronics aside and sat down at the piano. There was a false start, preserved here, but what followed was a sublime aubade, like waking up tired only to be stunned and stirred by the light suddenly outside. It is the sound of stirring to life and loving it there, and it is the little jewel at the center of the six songs they recorded that weekend, the six songs presented here in the exact order they made them. They finished “Two” just before Rosenau split for the airport on Sunday afternoon; it is a long goodbye, sweet and sentimental and sad, a last talk from two friends who have enjoyed their time together. At the end of “Gentleguy,” the first track on Bluebird, Rosenau, after a long pause, says, “I think that’s pretty good.” His voice is pitched up by a trace of uncertainty, as if “think” and “pretty” are the most important bits of that sentence. When “Deltas” wobbles to its beautiful end toward the middle of Two, Rosenau comes in again, his voice almost boisterous: “That was…” The tape cuts, but you don’t need to hear what he says to know what he says. That was good, perfect, the thing we were looking for, just right, pal. This is the way Two feels start to finish—two friends, firm on their footing with one another, digging into their beautiful exchange. Grayson Haver Currin Bar-K Ranch, Colorado October 2025
