Finders Keepers

Part fantastical historic sonic biopic, part anthropologic journey into the deep roots of Belgium’s monstrous cosmic rock sound, this wholly individualistic concept album combines the lead members of the mighty COS (Daniel Schell and Pascale Son) with studio genius Alain Pierre (Ô Sidarta/Des Morts) and celebrated Dutch progressive rock singer Dick Annegarn, for what many consider to be both the overlooked hiding place of Belgium’s deepest psychedelic moment and European prog’s lost map to the ‘Franco-Flemish Boom’. Emerging from the wider musical family that counted Marc Moulin, Placebo and Marc Hollander amongst its creative kin, Daniel Schell’s most profound conceptual project ambitiously combines the tale of the heroic historical figure of Count Egmont, while simultaneously tracing the evolution of the ud, or oud, (‘the grandfather of the guitar’) in this multifarious hallucinogenic epic. Featuring key members of other collectable groups such as drummer Felix Simtaine from Solis Lacus and bass player Jean-Louis Baudoin from the mythical Classroom (COS predecessor), this best-kept secret vinyl release also harbours the voices of Dirk Bogaert (of Belgian hard rockers Waterloo) as well as Catalan singer Ilona Chale (Marc Hollander/Aksak Maboul) before her later tenure as the COS front woman. Initially released in 1978 via Zeuhl school distributors Free Bird alongside French pressings of Don Cherry, Jacques Thollot and CAN, it is plain to understand the niche nature of this maligned “lost COS” LP as it finally blooms from between the cracked branches of European jazz-rock-synth-psych-prog-pop history… and beyond!

With his ongoing commitment to like-minded archivist label Finders Keepers Records, industrial music pioneer Steven Stapleton further entrusts us to lift the veil and expose “the right tracks” from his uber-legendary and oft misinterpreted psych/prog/punk peculiarity shopping list known as The Nurse With Wound List. Following the critically lauded first instalment and it’s exclusively French tracklisting both parties now combine their vinyl-vulturous penchants to bring you the next Strain Crack & Break edition which consists of twelve lesser-known German records that played a hugely important part in the initial foundations of the list which began to unfold when Stapleton was just thirteen-years-old. From the perspective of a schoolboy Amon Düül (ONE) victim, at the start of a journey that commenced before phrases like kosmische and the xeno-ignant Krautrock tag had become mag hack currency, this compendium is devoid of the tropes that united what many would accurately argue to be the greatest progressive pop bands in Europe (namely CAN, Neu! and Kraftwerk) and rather shatters the ingredients across a ground zero landscape for both inquisitive fans and socially rehabbing musos to begin to assemble a unique self-styled identity. If Krautrock was the music that journalist told us lurked behind schlager (German pop) in the 1970s, then this record includes the music that skulked behind Krautrock and perhaps refused to polish its backhanded name belt. Including lesser-known artists like the late Wolfgang Dauner whose career proceeded and outlived the kosmische movement while consistently informing and outsmarting ‘em whenever they got stuck in their metronomic ruts, or how about Fritz Müller, the man who was to Kraftwerk what Stuart Sutcliffe was to The Beatles but had more in common with Yoko and quite rightly couldn’t give a shit about the Fab Four’s Hamburg roots. Elsewhere we have a plethora of German bands made for German audiences as they try and shed second hand flower power Americanisms and feel the benefits of much harder drugs and the realisations of difficult second album budgets while Kommune 1 newsflashes wipe smiles from everybody’s faces and replace them with opioid chic or acid-sarcastic grins. Bonzo Cockettes show us their Big Muffs and drummers ask for extra mics while Conny Plank goes for parliamentary office and gives babies good firm hand shakes for the camera. Strain Crack & Break Volume Two is the sound of Steve Stapleton’s sponge-like mind and the dividends of anyone who was brave enough to even peek inside those brick-thick gatefold covers never mind drop the needle, with tracks by Mr. and Mrs. Fuchs (aka Anima-Sound) who played their instruments completely naked throughout their anti-career alongside previously unpressed tracks by the scene’s leading Detroit-born African American drummer Fred Braceful who’s band Exmagma officially had the coolest record sleeves and track titles of ALL TIME (Torpedo Tits? Yes Please!). From an era where it was embarrassing to go into your local record shop and hum the tune over the counter, well that young lad Steve Stapleton was braver than that, and besides, these tracks are unhummable and at times unutterable. Did somebody in the crowd shout out for Joel Vandroogenbroeck! Good luck with that one. Stapleton is sharing. Even Stevens.

It’s possibly a misnomer to label music recorded outside of the USA or Europe with terms such as ‘psyche’ or ‘surf’ as it is often just a stylistic innovation based on exposure to foreign records via the radio or music stores. It doesn’t necessarily chime in with any of the social shifts or changes that accompanied the music’s development in the West. Even in America, the concept of teen culture was relatively new during the height of these genres popularity. People who could afford to take advantage of these new freedoms often had the financial cushioning to do so. This factor was amplified in South East Asia, and the music shouldn’t be considered nationally representative – it’s a more scaled down phenomenon, relevant to a small cross-section of society. By the same token, this wasn’t just bland copycat music to widen a band’s audience, or to entertain expat patrons in bars or clubs. This was a sincere desire to experiment and repackage local sounds without necessarily needing to make a statement. The musical information was processed and partially recast amidst a blend of local music and arrangements, transposed onto drums, electric bass, guitar and keyboards. Although in the mid-70s there was a wider protest movement in Thailand that found it’s musical outlet in the ‘songs for life’ of Caravan and Carabao, the music collected here was not part of the same aesthetic, although it’s possible there was some musical overspill. The styles featured on this compilation fall somewhere between Luk Thung (‘song of the countryside’) and Luk Krung (‘song of the city’). Bangkok was a particular melting pot for the evolution of these two genres, the former alluding to musical themes and lyrics aimed at the wider national population, the latter looking westwards with a more urban ‘sophisticated’ audience in mind. The tracks here were experimentations or dice rolling by both little known groups, as well as established figures like Plearn Promdan. Some tracks might represent a specific artist’s only foray into this musical area. Even within Thailand the majority of these tunes remain unissued, so it’s with great pleasure that we present this glimpse of the strange underbelly of Thai Luk Thung in all its unique, original and outlandish glory – a small snapshot of an otherwise forgotten era.

"There was a time when the strength of a musician's vision transcended all labels; here is a chance to dip into that pool again, and emerge not just refreshed, but alive again with the sense that we all can live in that world again, but most importantly raise the flag for excellence. Fantastic." --Jim O'Rourke

An unholy grail of near-mythical status is finally now available in the form of this first-ever reissue. Masahiko Sato composed this elusive, sensual, psychedelic free jazz score for the stunning 1973 Japanese witchcraft animation Belladonna of Sadness (Kanashimi no Belladonna) directed by Eiichi Yamamoto. Since the mid-2000s, Belladonna of Sadness has risen from the ashes and now shines brighter than ever. Now, on the eve of its third or fourth global DVD release in 2015, fans no longer have to settle for third-generation VHS telecine dubs or stuff their wish-lists into the hands of lucky friends visiting Tokyo. Belladonna has been used as nightclub projections by clued-up VJs and been restored by discerning feminist folk singers and improv bands while influencing illustrators, fashion designers, and other creative types along the way. Original copies of the soundtrack, however, are much less likely to rear their heads, with prices literally doubling each time the original stock copies swap hands among the same Italian dealers at central European record fairs. Italian soundtracks are expensive anyway, but this one, originally released by the Italian Cinevox label in 1975, has extra credentials. Finders Keepers Records and Sato himself agreed that this record should finally be liberated among those who know the magic words. With the decision to keep this album "strictly Sato," a track from the original release has been removed -- the main orchestral love theme by Asei Kobayashi and Mayumi Tachibana -- which in all honesty is very much detached from Sato's psychedelic soundtrack. Kept intact, however, are the songs sung and penned by Sato's wife at the time, Chinatsu Nakayama, including the track titled "TBFS," which only appears on the master tapes and never actually made it onto the theatrical cut of the film (though the theme is briefly alluded to, with different instrumentation, in a cut-scene available on the German DVD release). This reissue project also marks the beginning of a longer intended relationship between Finders Keepers and Masahiko Sato, exploring his recorded work in film music, jazz, and avant-garde composition.