Ivkovic & Smagghe are bang on the nose with a personal love note to ’90s-‘00s electronica rounding up cheap bin gems from I-F, Cylob, The Back Dog, Funckarma, Seefeel and many more from a hazy, inspirational era
Depending your age and location in the late ‘90s, the terms electronica and IDM probably have shifting meaning to every listener. Vladimir Ivkovic and Ivan Smagghe both worked in record shops during this phase and their proximity to the good stuff is evident across ‘A Future Of Nostalgia’, with 12 tracks that exemplify the cross-section of shoegaze/ambient/acid/electro/breaks which emerged from the more unconventional artists of that pivotal era. Trust it’s not intended as any sort of comprehensive survey, but more a personal mixtape style selection, highlighting classic and rarities they look back upon most fondly, surely turning up more than a few obscurities that will have bypassed even the most ardent connoisseurs and owners of moth eaten Warp t-shirts.
It’s been amusing to see a wave of insatiable all-night (and day) house types digging this sound in recent years, so the timing of ‘A Future of Nostalgia’ could hardly be more apt for anyone diversifying their bonds beyond the usual grooves, just as the original tunes would have appealed to a motley cross-section of, as they put it “pop kids getting through to the dancefloor via Aphex Twin and nerdy house heads dissolving their four to the floor into the futuristic world of Warp compilations” back in the day.
If you’re looking for highlights, tip-of-tongue obscurities such as Zugzwang’s lilting beauty ‘Euphonic’ and Marcia Blaine School For Girls’ folksy whirligig are right up there for the lip-smacking daytime dancers, while Move D and co’s I.F. turn for Fax is tipped for couch-inclined gouch-outs along with Replicant’s kosmiche arp trip ‘Analiz’, Abfahrt Hinwil’s ‘Tech 7’ is prime MDMA trigger material, and Marco Passarani’s ‘Ixora’ flings us right back to far more innocent, wide-eyed times.
This is it, the anticipated collaboration between legends MF Doom and Madlib.
The vibe is spread across 22 separate skits/tracks each produced by one or both heavyweights. Opening the Villainy is 'The Illest Villains' a very Doom styled sample skit, lots of TV voiceovers and a storyline about Madvillain which is cut and spliced to perfection, recalling King Geedorah's 'Monster Zero'.
'Accordion' starts the fray proper, an accordion loop drops an almost laxadazical vibe over the beat, while MF styles over the top, namedropping Dastardly and Mutley and Joe Tex, before 'America's Most Blunted' deploys a psyche break with some genius samples lifted from what must be a goldmine Marijuana awareness record.
A collab between 2 of the finest people in hip hop, with some fly guests, a classic for the ages? 100%
Hypnotic proto-Raï from Algeria circa 1979-1989 by Drissi El-Abbassi, a pioneer of the style who bridged its early roots with the era of multi-track digital recording during the sound’s rapid evolution, making for an insane set of microtonal synths, psych guitars and drum machines for fans of Cheb Khaled, Omar Khorshid or Omar Souleyman.
‘Rai Sidi Bel Abbes’ plays deeply into one of the core influences of borderless Algerian/Egyptian label Nashazphone, highlighting a figure relatively unsung beyond the North African Arabic diaspora, introducing his unusually balmy, soft-voiced take on a genre that came to be known for its harder edges. Set to a mix of microtonal Roland synthesiser leads and swaying drum machines, El-Abbassi’s vocals emote with particular clarity and sensuality, carrying the jazz and psych rock-inspired early sound into a prototype of its current form across eight songs that chart his transition from working with principal group Les Freres Zergui, to selections from recordings by his own band’s influential releases during the mid-late ‘80s.
Drissi El-Abbassi was 17 in 1978, when he joined one of the main groups in Oran region, Les Aigles Noir, working as “stage animator” - a sort of hypeman, also responsible for relaying lyrics to the lead singer, at weddings and parties - and by 1979 he was a member of Les Freres Zergui, who pioneered the use of wah wah pedals and drums in the style of Rai; a new sound established by Messaoud Bellemou and his troupe, that incorporated trumpets and sax into a distinctive new Algerian genre. He cut his teeth playing two shows a night at the weekends with Les Freres Zergui, and his first solo tape came out that year with Zergui on guitar. Following Zergui’s passing in 1983, and the dissolution of the band, El-Abbassi set up his own group, embracing new technology and helping progress the style alongside legendary producer Meghni Mohamed for labels such as Editions Anwar, Editions Maghreb, and Editions Saint Crepain.
The eight songs on ‘Rai Sidi Bel Abbes’ cover a spectrum of El-Abassi’s work during 1979-1989, from the mouth watering microtonal psych licks and nagging machine grooves of ‘Zedti laadab aliya’ to the lissom guitars and accordions of ‘Khalouni neck’, showcasing his smoothly contoured vocal cadence in finest style on cuts that resemble melodic Lovers Rock vibes in ’Trig maaskar’ and intoxicatingly sensual highlights ‘Jat jat’, plus the passionate, psychedelic ache of ‘Manetzouedj manebni dar’, or ‘Djibek liyam’, which should appeal to fans of Omar Khorshid as much as Omar Souleyman.
Brutally anxious and sensitive noise techno tribute to underground comic artist Mark Beyer, shredding noise harmonics and ragged-out techno pulses for fans of Merzbow, Russell Haswell, Eva Justka, Astral Social Club...
Savage noise tekno psychosis from Valerie Smith, a hairy man from Paris who also makes music as Z.B. Aids, here paying dues to the bleak underground ‘80s comics of Mark Beyer for a fierce debut with vital Algerian/Egyptian label, Nashazphone
‘We're Depressed’ acknowledges a severely modern sense of anxiety in torrents of bilgy rhythmic noise that pumps in a vein of esoteric activity linking Pat Murano’s Decimus to Ewa Justka, to Masami Akita and Sun Ra. Burned out dance pulses rev into murky warehouse space, delivered with a hands-on style that feels as uncannily descriptive as Mark Beyer’s often wordless comic strips’ approach to a world of emotional bleakness and naive beauty.
The artist recorded all the material on 4-track in winter 2017/2018, following his nose and Beyer’s inspiration into mesmerisingly uncomfortable head spaces. The pulsating, obliterated mass of ‘Encastré ter’ sets the tone for a crushing session rounding from the harsh stress test sonics and surprising moments of lucidity in ‘Baroud d’honneur’, and the tonal degradation of ‘Vice de cercle’, saving up his druggiest sort of psychedelic rhythmic noise for the 12 minutes of ‘Fou de rage il mange sa mère’, and what sounds like Sun Ra doing flashcore in ‘Habitable.’
’Trippin’ Musik’ is Nurse With Wound’s most significant new dose in a while, collecting 3 epic discs of steeply psychedelic sonics that may well alter your breathing and heart rates and mental state. No tracklisting provided, play however tf you like.
Following from the reissue of NWW’s ’Soliloquy For Lilith’ boxset, ‘Trippin’ Musik’ relays the most recent findings from Steven Stapleton and co’s ongoing psychedelic research / surrealist reconnaissance / occult practice in electro-acoustic and avant-garde spheres. As the title suggests, it’s one for the journey, taking up whole sides of vinyl with intensely and intently focussed recordings that often take over 20 minutes to say their psychedelic piece in a cryptic language of abstraction.
Whether you take drugs to listen to this music or not, the effect is likely to live up to the title, but we’re pretty certain it will be stronger with than without. One disc features a whole side of what sounds like a folk song fractalised and slowed down by Carl Stone, while another also sees them strung out in desert guitar scenes sort of like a digitized interpolation of Earth jamming with Soisong, and the side of rapidly panned gasps is practically guaranteed to send your head into a tailspin given the right conditions, before it all shores up in a deeply lysergic scene of strolling, head-squashing, liminal/laminal electronic timbres that feel like classic kosmische slowed down and exhaled by an AI.
Trust the efficacy of ’Trippin’ Musik’ for psychoactive potential is right up there with the most potent sonic substance. Approach with spare time and a well stocked freezer for best results.
Somewhere between hardcore, grindcore, death metal anbd industrial from Tokyo band Granule.
"The space is small and heavy with smoke, a distinct smell of smoldering. A couch, a recliner, and a littered coffee table sit below the the tobacco haze, barely distinguishable, with heavy curtains keeping the sunlight out. The television sits on a piece of plastic lawn furniture, a familiar VHS warm glow plays a depiction of ritual in slow motion. Like a surgical video, the color just as violent, the screen emits humidity. From a back hall, the murmuring of drums, rasped voices, melting low tones. The carpet underfoot feels wet, the smoke is thicker.
Behind one door, a mattress with no box spring or frame, just crooked against the corner, no sheets, a milk crate bedside table with an overflowing ashtray. The smoke has no origin here. The next, an unkept wash room, one thin man shaves the head of another with a towel draped over his shoulders. No smoke. Just staring. The last is the obvious. The drums and voices butted up against the other side of the cheap wooden door. Inside, 8 shrouded listeners, a burning hole in the rug, and a polished monolith of stereo equipment.
The sound is near deafening, like the ringing in your skull when it smacks the pavement. The only clean surface in the entire tenement is the stereo, kept immaculate. There is no end in this sound, it soundtracks this space. The burning never ends. The ritual is ongoing. A meditation on demise, the listeners know no world beyond the space. The difference between a monk and prisoner is the monk can leave their cell. The listeners are capable, but refuse to move. Beaten down in a tremendous heap below the stereo, one hand rises out, and turns it up louder."
Act!’s soundtrack to a series of Snapchat filters by artist Karen Vanderborght; scrolling sequences of GIF-like melodic vignettes and thizzy timbral warble, very much in a prism of neo-ambient, handheld and desktop music from Eno and Hosono to James Ferraro or Visible Cloaks
“GREY MATTER AR is a series of Snapchat filters created by artist Karen Vanderborght that explores the poetic and existential potential of AR (Augmented Reality) and social media - suggesting selfies as self-reflective mirrors informed by the wisdom of our elders.
Beginning in 2018 – Karen filmed and interviewed 10 seniors who brought diverse and universal wisdom to some of life’s biggest questions. Andrew; an Ojibwe leader who lived through the residential school program, Alf; a church organist who publicly came out as gay at 80, Anne; the first black Senator in Canada – all the seniors provide unique and profound perspectives on life and aging. See their words, thoughts, and appearances transpose and intersect with your selfhood in an edifying engagement on themes of age, memory, oppression, regret, and resilience. These filters, soundtracked by ACT!, were released exclusively to Snapchat in 2019 and are available now.”
Richard Youngs and co’s experimental disco band meet Norwegian improvisors Lemur in a lissom quartet of ecstatic, hopeful jams following their album for Night School.
‘Amor/Lemur’ began life in Glasgow at the start of 2020 when the two sets of musicians played together for the first time and jumped straight in the studio the following day. Guided by groove, and sparingly layered with Youngs’ distinctive vocal, plus Luke Fowler’s synthlines, the results are broadly split between a decidedly live-sounding first side, and a second side subject to studio-as-instrument treatments rendered by mixing/engineer Paul Savage, and tape manipulations by Jason Lescalleet.
The lolling expanse of ‘Unravel’ sees the massed until open out with a folksy disco earthiness comparable to Arthur Russell circa ‘Springfield’, and leading into the pastoral glade-like opening strains of ‘Stars Burst’, which soon looks into a quick and pounding disco-not-disco motion. However we’re more partial to the other songs, with the devilish detail of the dubwise mixing coming into play on the mesmerising lilt and splashy drive of ‘Fear’, and to slippery effect in the slower, serpentine hustle of ‘For You’ with its nagging, lagging drums.
After helping shaping (hyper)pop music for the past decade, A.G. Cook presents their 2nd solo album in the slipstream of ‘7G’, their 2020 debut LP, proper
In case you’ve been snoozing under a rock for the past half decade (we wouldn’t blame you tbh), we’ll remind you that A.G. Cook has gained renown as the game-accelerating producer for Charli XCX. He’s also produced for Jónsi (Sigur Ros) and Kim Petras, as well as some of PC Music’s hottest property including GFTOY over the interim, leading him to be hailed as a pioneer of an emergent “hyper pop” style in the process. However, if you’re “of an age”, it’s maybe best to place his work in context stretching from Scritti Politti’s shiny pop to Max Martin (Britney, N’Sync, Backstreet Boys et al), but with additional strong influence from boy racer style Makina and Eurodance, to boot.
His 2nd album ‘Apple’ is an ideally marmite and aspartame flavoured example of Cook’s style, firing 10 shots of hyper-pert contemporary composition, taking in whiny autotuned country pish on ‘Oh Yeag’ and avant-terrace-ready anthems such as ‘Xxoplex’, next to craftier highlights of gurning chamber-pop experiments in ‘Animals’ and the flighty ‘Stargon’, plus the needling niceness in ‘Airhead’, breezy airport reggae pop in ‘The Darkness’, and stadium-sized bedroom pop in ‘Lifeline’ starring Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek.
Let’s be honest, it’s kind of disposable shite and we’ll probably never listen to it ever again, but ‘Apple’ remains an intriguing symptom of recent decades’ hypermodern culture.
James Yorkston and The Second Hand Orchestra came to be after the blossoming of a long-term friendship between James Yorkston and Karl- Jonas Winqvist, the Swedish music producer, leader and conductor of The Second Hand Orchestra.
"That communal feeling is apparent across the entire album. Recorded and mixed in Sweden over the course of three days, with a selection of musicians Winqvist had brought together, including Peter Morén (Peter, Bjorn & John), Cecilia Österholm (one of Sweden’s best-known nyckelharpa players), Emma Nordenstam (piano & cello) and Ulrika Gyllenberg (violin). The studio approach with The Second Hand Orchestra was entirely improvised around Yorkston’s songs and the only song they heard in advance was ‘Ella Mary Leather’; Yorkston didn’t want to direct anyone too much but instead allowed for a welcoming, instinctive, free-spirited and joyful atmosphere. ‘The Wide, Wide River’ is a soothing, warm and sublime listen whilst also highlighting Yorkston’s skills for songwriting, collaboration and as a musical conductor. The record takes in past loves, advancing age and friends now gone, whilst also containing some of the most sanguine songs Yorkston has ever made."
The master of the tape loop returns with "Lamentations", yet another collection of eroded drone for low-light dreamers, captured and constructed from tape loops and studies from Basinski’s archives – dating back to 1979 – Lamentations is over forty years of mournful sighs meticulously crafted into songs. They are shaped by the inevitable passage of time and the indisputable collapsing of space – and their collective resonance is infinite and eternal.
Those familiar with Basinski's catalog won't find a lot new here - not a complaint - like the molasses-slow shots that made David Lynch's "Twin Peaks: The Return" so eerily affecting, Basinski's spine-chilling repetition drags u into a state of near-hypnosis, focusing on the tiny details as they crumble in and out of view.
"Lamentations" is the perfect title; we've been spinning this on repeat as the constant chatter of apocalyptic news bubbles thru social media and every newsreel across the planet. It's hard to tell exactly what Basinski is lamenting but it doesn't really matter - each track sounds like a fragment of our past slowly fading from view. As "The Disintegration Loops" mourned a New York City that had been lost, "Lamentations" feels like a memorial for something else huge and all-encompassing. Nostalgia's a hell of a drug.
The final performance by legendary electronic music catalyst Mika Vainio depicts the Pan Sonic co-founder at his blistering best only months before he passed away in 2017
‘Last Live’ is demonstrative of the singular way in which Vainio harnessed elemental electronics to his will. Recorded at Cave12, Geneva, on 02.02.17, the set is presented here post-edited by Stephen O’Malley and Carl Michael Von Hausswolff, at EMS, Stockholm, to unleash a definitive blast of raw electronic forces that speak unflinchingly to the unpredictable nature of his improvised noise. Quite simply, Vainio is unmatched in his field for this sort of work, and this session stands as testament to the inspirational conviction and devastating effect of his music.
While it may not be immediately apparent on first listen, Vainio’s music has long drawn influence from myriad, intense forms of music. Be it techno, delta blues, dub, black metal, or sheer isolationist minimalism, it was all there, collapsed into a black hole of sound that could be as bloody-minded as it was heart-rendingly sensitive, often in the space of one cut. ‘Last Live’ portrays these unapologetically human characteristics in Vainio’s typically frank yet oblique manner, with each section candidly expressing polarised extremes of sound, from the first part’s transition between jack-licking drones to skin-tearing distortion, while the 3rd and 4th capture him at his most rhythmically disaffected, strongly recalling the almighty, juddering forces of his ‘Kilo’ (2013) album.
Utterly fab off-world lo-fi pop construxions assembled using DX7, TR-909 and early samplers from Italian minimalist Tiziano Popoli. Imagine Visible Cloaks rescoring "Liquid Sky" and ur there.
Freedom To Spend's latest rifles through the catalog of Italian minimalist composer Tiziano Popoli, unearthing a series of unreleased recordings for soundtracks, radio and installations made between 1983 and 1989 with a modest studio setup. Influenced by glittery radio pop music, Popoli used the Yamaha DX7 synthesizer along with the Roland TR-909 drum machine and some early sampling technology to belt out a series of surreal cues and themes that sound almost frozen in time.
The distinctive FM sound of the DX7 was relegated to bargain bins for too long after practically defining the mid 1980s and early 1990s, but it's received a well overdue resurgence in recent years. Now the familiar sound (smooth, shimmering pads, plasticky stabs and bumping distorted basses) is easily available inside or outside the box, and it's become ubiquitous once again - hearing it here though, struck through with possibility, is an all-too-rare treat. Popoli uses these sounds without cynicism or reference, crafting angular pop forms from a backdrop of funk, prog rock and disco.
'Minimal Dance N.1' sounds like a long-lost Goblin cue, with fractured synths following eerie piano loops. Elsewhere, album centerpiece 'Mimetico Erettile' develops over fifteen minutes, blending paper-thin pads with marimba sounds that buzz lovingly like Steve Reich in an isolation booth. Each track sounds as if it could rattle off the hinges at any moment and that's exactly what we love about it.
Fantastic music that sings loud from a place of innovation and discovery.
Ana Roxanne follows up the short-and-sweet "~~~" with this devastatingly beautiful full-length for Kranky, joining the dots between the label's past and present with heartbreaking sounds that remind us of Labradford, Windy & Carl, Grouper and beyond.
The album was written over the last five years, when the LA-based, Oakland-raised artist released that debut EP. While that record was initially dropped quietly, it was eventually picked up and reissued by Matthewdavid's Leaving Records last year, bringing her almost spiritual vocal-led sounds to a much wider audience.
Ana Roxanne grew up obsessed with her mom's collection of 80s and 90s R&B CDs, singing along to them obsessively while simultaneously training her voice more rigorously as part of a church choir. Years later, she was introduced to Hindustani classical music and her connection to her voice and its potential shifted drastically. When she returned to Oakland, she began to refine her craft studying at the prestigious Mills College, learning to work with synthesizers and becoming obsessed with the deep devotional music of Alice Coltrane. And all of these sounds - these connecting threads - are present on "Because of a Flower".
The album is remarkable in its sublime coherence. Roxanne blends styles, influences and cultural reference points so seamlessly it's almost like reading a diary or a book of poems. From the beginning of the album, which opens on a spoken word piece snipped from a harmony textbook, we're transported to a different world. As billowing drones drift peacefully into view, Roxanne's voice echoes above like kisses from a distant reality. This is deeply personal music, and Roxanne is unafraid to bear her soul and assuredly reflect her identity as an intersex person, imbuing her sounds with a vulnerable sincerity that's impossible to fake.
From there, we're ushered lovingly through songs that unify different elements (muted guitar phrases, fragile drum machine loops, disintegrating film snippets) beneath Ana Roxanne's spine-tingling vocals but retain a rare cohesion. Each track is markedly different, but the album hangs together so perfectly it's almost impossible to separate a single moment from the sublime whole.
It is many things and one complete entity simultaneously. Anyone who's been enthralled by Kranky's classic sounds, from Labradford to Windy & Carl to Grouper, absolutely needs to grab this immediately; utterly unmissable music and one of the best records of its ilk we've heard this year.
Pure Bugandan thunder from core Nyege Nyege Tapes unit, Nilotika Drum Ensemble, demonstrating the sort of drum circle tempest that has charged up all of the label’s revered parties since day dot
Revolving around seven drummers around leader Jajja Kalanda, Nilotika Drum Ensemble play devilishly complex rhythms owing to traditions from across the country, from the Iteso of eastern Uganda, to the Bugandan styles that encompass the capital city Kampala and their tribal south central regions. They’ve been at it for over a decade now, but the rhythms predate them by manifold more years, stemming from ancient central African traditions.
‘Ejokawulida’ rolls out a cascade of swingeing polymetric rhythms from the Iteso tradition that mesh and swarm in ravishingly complex patterns, somehow hingeing around a precise, internal logic of a quantum clock that can’t be read but only understood by dancing limbs. ‘Kekusimbe’ follows on a variant of Ugandan traditional music called Bakisiimba, where, to our ears, it feels like time is moving forwards and backwards simultaneously as the patterns switch on the spot between slow swagger and slow/fast palpitation with turbulent dynamic and discipline.
Blinders, both of them.
Albarika Store is home to many rare recordings, from more traditional folkloric and Sato styles, to the funk, blues and psych inspired workouts of the All Mighty Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou, as they referred to themselves.
"Many of the original records are sought after by DJs and collectors asprime examples of Afro-funk, Afro-Latin and Afropsych sounds. The next in the series of reissues by Acid Jazz presents a straight reproduction of the incredibly hard to find Poly-Rythmo ‘Vol. 4’ album, originally from 1978. For DJs and dancers this album has long been about the killer track ‘Aiha Ni Kpe We’, an incendiary Afrobeat recording which will activate any dancefloor anywhere. “Every time I listen to the Orchestre Poly Rythmo… Wow, I just discover something new in the music” - Gilles Peterson This is the first exhaustive trawl of the archive and will see the label presented in a way that ensures its historical importance is recognized. Trips to West Africa have secured original master tapes and the process of transferring is ongoing. Over the next few years a comprehensive reissue campaign is planned."
Cuba: Music and Revolution: Culture Clash in Havana: Experiments in Latin Music 1975-85 Vol. 1 is a new album compiled by Gilles Peterson and Stuart Baker (Soul Jazz Records) that explores the many new styles that emerged in Cuba in the 1970s as Jazz, Funk, Brazilian Tropicalia and even Disco mixed together with Latin and Salsa on the island as Cuban artists experimented with new musical forms created in the unique socialist state of Cuba.
"The album comes as a heavyweight triple vinyl and deluxe double CD, complete with extensive sleeve notes, and is jam-packed with heavy bass lines, synth and Wah-Wah guitar funk combined with the heavyweight percussion, powerful brass lines and the all-encompassing Latin rhythms of Cuban music known throughout the world.
The album is released to coincide with the massive new deluxe large format book Cuba: Music and Revolution: Original Cover Art of Cuban Music: Record Sleeve Designs of Revolutionary Cuba 1959-90, published in November, which is also compiled by Gilles Peterson and Stuart Baker (Soul Jazz Records), and which features the music and record designs of Cuba, made in the 30-year period following the Cuban Revolution.The music on this album features legendary Cuban groups such as Irakere, Los Van Van and Pablo Milanés as well as a host of lesser known artists such as the radical Grupo De Experimentación, Juan Pablo Torres and Algo Nuevo, Grupo Monumental and Orquesta Ritmo Oriental, groups whose names remain largely unknown outside of Cuba owing to the now 60-year old US trade embargo which remains in place today and which prevents trade with Cuba – and thus most Cuban records were only ever available in Cuba or in ex-Soviet Union states.
The music on this album reflects the most cutting-edge of Cuban groups that were recording in Cuba in the 1970s and 1980s – who were all searching for a new Cuban identity and new musical forms that reflected both the Afro-Cuban cultural heritage of a nation that gave birth to Latin music – and its new position as a socialist state. Most of the music featured on this album has never been heard outside of Cuba. Cuba: Music and Revolution is the third book that Gilles Peterson and Stuart Baker have collaborated on together and follows on from their two earlier critically acclaimed books, Freedom, Rhythm and Sound (Revolutionary Jazz Music in the 1960s and 1970s) and Bossa Nova and the Rise of Brazilian Music in the 1960s, both of which also had related album releases on Soul Jazz Records. Both Gilles Peterson and Stuart Baker have been involved in Cuban music for more than two decades – Gilles Peterson with his many Havana Cultura projects for his Brownswood label and Stuart Baker with a number of Soul Jazz Records albums recorded in Cuba. This Soul Jazz Records album is released in conjunction with Egrem, the Cuban state record company, and has been put together after the many crate-digging trips that both compilers have made on the streets of Havana and beyond in Cuba stretching over a 20-year period, searching out rare and elusive original Cuban vinyl records."
For fans of Four Tet, The Chemical Brothers, Jamie xx, Bonobo, Caribou / Daphni, Aphex Twin.
"Belfast-born London-based duo Bicep (Matt McBriar and Andy Ferguson) release their hotly anticipated ten track second album ‘Isles’, via Ninja Tune. Two years in the making, ‘Isles’ expands on the artful energy of their 2018 debut ‘Bicep’, while digging deeper into the sounds, experiences and emotions that have influenced their lives and work, from early days in Belfast to their move to London a decade ago. Lead track ‘Apricots’ is steeped in a shimmering bath of warm synths, its spare percussion and arresting vocals bring big room chills while still evoking something lost or forlorn."
40th anniversary edition of NWW’s darkly beguiling 3rd album, seeing Steven Stapleton go solo in a slowly spirit-gnawing side of collapsed concrète jazz cut-ups that recall pre-echoes of Mica Levi and Demdike Stare at their most zonked
‘Merzbild Schwet’ documents Stapleton left to his own devices in the studio later in 1980 after bandmates Heman Pathak and John Fothergill left due to dissatisfaction with their collaborative efforts on ‘To The Quiet Men From A Tiny Girl’. The results, in their own way, are perhaps more detectably coherent, in the sense that this is the sound of one man’s mentalism, and not the combination of three who can’t decade who’s weirdest. As such, it’s a real warper, with one side seemingly nodding to a classic Neu! B-sides from behind lysergic eyes, and the other striking deep into a vein of theatric avant-garde.
Recycled from hacked and spliced jazz samples, the A-side’s ‘Dada x’ slops over the front with knackered drums and smeared brass tones that recall the B-side to ‘Neu! 2’ (itself crafted last minute in the studio, using slowed down samples of the same record’s A-side) as much as Micachu & The Shapes’ & London Sinfonietta’s ‘Chopped & Screwed’ session, with additional stirrings from a French pop record adding to the oddness in a way that also recalls Ghédalia Tazartès and that amazing Joseph Hammer side for PAN.
‘Futurismo’ is a very different beast though, stretching out 24mins of pineal, searching-in-the-dark atmospheres that feel like they strayed from an avant garde theatre work or modern classical conservatory, with pealing woodwind and arcing spectral keys paving the way for mind-bending corridors of patchworked sci-fi vocals, shatterproof industrial clangour, and Stapleton's patented plasmic electro-acoustic audness.
Made in just over a day, Ziúr's "Now Now" is overdriven, airlock pop that seemingly excavates the remains of a Walkman blasted into outer space. Mindboggling.
While the rest of us have been struggling to butter a piece of toast, Berlin's Ziúr has been churning out music at an alarming pace. "Now Now" is a brand new EP released on her own fledgling label and was put together in just over a day. It's far from throwaway too; while other Berlin producers might struggle for a week to find the perfect kick drum (fyi it's always the TR-909), Ziúr has managed to sculpt five jubilant pop vignettes that build on and surpass 2019's outstanding "ATØ".
Anyone who was lucky enough to catch last summer's ambitious full-length live collaboration with Juliana Huxtable will have an idea where Ziúr's head has been at recently. "Now Now" feels like a continuation of that mode as she layers her soaring vocals over rugged sci-fi backdrops that hint at forgotten pop forms without resorting to obvious references. It's like screwed 'n chopped dance pop or squashed, flickering emo rock, piped through a holographic bluetooth soundsystem on Deep Space 9.
Tearful ballad 'Crumble Bittersweet' anchors the record with womping subbasss that sits comfortably beneath Ziúr's voice and hopeful, glassy synths. It's the delicate remains of a culture that now only exists in memory, vocal earworms swirling into the distance and fragments of structure struggling to become whole. 'Reignproof' meanwhile should slake thirsty fans of Ziúr's earlier material, with its club-collapsing "Inception" formula and scorched trap rhythms. But our fave is 'Bleak', an unashamedly uplifting ballad that captures the feeling of sunlight cracking in through the dark.
Completely head-warping Persian progressive dub nuggets from LA's Maral. Where else are you gonna find Lee "Scratch" Perry, Crass's Penny Rimbaud, oversaturated beats and Iranian classical and folk samples mashed into a fuzz of echo and tape hiss?
Few genres have been as rinsed, but Maral's "Push" arrives to remind us that innovation is still possible within dub's expansive parameters. The LA DJ and producer impressed with last year's bizarre and brilliant "Mahur Club", but truly centers her own dynamic universe on "Push", finding the psychedelic sweet spot between trip-hop, dub, club music and Iranian folk and classical styles.
From the opening blast of 'Kerman Wobble' - all echoing Iranian vocals and lo-bitrate beatbox hits that sound as if they're about to snap whatever tape spool they're cycling on - it's clear that Maral is wielding her fusion with intent. The fingerprints of dub are everywhere, as vocals get trapped in delay vortexes and rhythms are fired thru disintegrated FX chains. When Lee "Scratch" Perry shows up on 'Protect U', it doesn't feel like just another feature, it feels like a blessing from one generation to another.
You should know by now that we're into sonic world building here, and with a collection of samples, loops and FX, Maral has built a four-dimensional soundscape we never want to leave. It's the connecting thread between Tricky, Sote, DJ Spooky, Demdike Stare and DJ Rupture and like-minded contemporaries Thoom, 8ULENTINA and Lara Sarkissian. "Push" is an astonishing debut and one of the stand-out albums of the year, miss at your peril.
New reissue of Nuno Canavarro's cult, anomalous classic, Plux Quba (1988) - which was previously reissued as the first release on Jim O'Rourke's Moikai label in 1999 (and again in 2004) - prompting a new generation to fall for its surreal and sublime charms.
Making a virtue of squirrelly electronic skips and clustered tones as integral to the composition, Plux Quba effectively, and uncannily, foreshadowed the aesthetics of classic German electronic records by Oval and Mouse on Mars that would emerge in the years after its release. It's possible to explain away the connection by the fact that Christoph Heeman bought and played the record to a circle of friends in Cologne - including MoM's Jan St. Werner among them - and the rest, one could say, is history.
One of only two solo albums recorded by Portugal's Canavarro, it remains a deeply enchanting album - the sort of stuff you might expect to hear in a pink-hued æther dream or documented by Smithsonian Folkways on a mission to other dimensions. With hindsight we can now say that if you're into anything from Oval's Systemische to Actress' RIP or AFX's Computer Controlled Instruments, you're probably susceptible to this sorta magic, too.
Overmono play around with bittersweet tunings in a set of trancey-tempered glyders marking their return to XL
The supple techno roll and twirling lead of the title tune, and the brooding flight of ‘Aero’, roll out like Kieran Hebden getting smudged on K - a bit Four Ketty, if you allow - while ‘Clipper (Another 5 Years)’ swangs out with bustling garage-techno breaks and warped bassline tunings recalling Thom Yorke strong solo works, and ‘Verbosa’ tilts off with intricately woven ambient electro-techno patterns not a million miles away from Call Super’s recent album.
Second in a series of three releases, a 45 Minute doublepack featuring some of the most engrossing House music you’ll likely hear this year or any other...
We’re still dazed from the 1st volume, but Will Long and DJ Sprinkles have already cued up their 2nd session, with Mint / Clay landing handsome on Terre Thaemlitz’ Comatonse.
The format and aesthetic remains the same as Vol.1, namely two raw pieces by Will Long, backed with extended overdubs by Sprinkles amounting to thee deepest house this side of Larry Heard’s nuclear love bunker, all subtly executed and held up as a comparison to the aesthetics and intentions (or, ironically, the excess and lack of) of that sound in relief of current, conceptually-detached takes on the original NYC deep house sound which Sprinkles was instrumental in shaping as a downtown DJ during that formative era.
Again, Will Long, who’s best known for his experimental ambient work as Celer, proves that it ain’t what you’ve got but what you know and can do with it that matters. Under-Currents places sparing samples of T.R.M. Howard - a mentor of Jesse Jackson - amidst a dream sequence of carbonated hi-hats and lingering chords urged by a plump bass drum, whilst Get In & Stay In nods to civil right activist and current Georgia congressional representative John Lewis in a lush haze of crepuscular chromatics and loping swing.
On the flipsides, DJ Sprinkles contributes another pair of incredible overdubs, lending Long’s minimal elements a richer, fleshlier feel, whether with additional breakbeats or nimbly lowering the bass and layering up spirited flutes and Rhodes. Suffice to say, they’re absolute mind-melters.
Quite crucially, the concept never gets in the way of the music, perfectly demonstrating the symbiotic nature of the music and politics in the way we imagine they intended; I mean it’s not like they want you to sit in a corner of the club pondering their ideas, but they’re definitely worth bearing in mind, especially for the DJs, dancers and promoters who act as gatekeepers for this music.
20th anniversary reissue of Graham Lambkin’s sought-after solo debut, sounding like DJ Screw getting waterboarded in a flooded cellar. Part of the upcoming ’Solos’ boxset of his first four albums, reissued for first time by Brooklyn’s amazing Blank Forms Editions
For 40 cranky minutes, Lambkin pitch-shifts the vocal of his bandmate Tim Goss (The Shadow Ring) to a deathly croak, set against what sounds like the chronic drip drip drip of an overflowing bath or a basement in the process of flooding, while a chamber ensemble strikes up from time to time. It’s the sort of record you could attempt to recreate at home with minimal effort, and perhaps some soggy trews, but the magick lies in the utter obstinate oddness of it all, pushing listeners to a state of discomfort with an almost psychopathic sense of purpose, only to offer glimpses of classical respite at points where it feels like we’re actually drowning in his world. As far as debut statements of intent go, it’s practically a fucking warning; approach with caution and know where the exits are located.
As both Lambkin’s solo debut in this vein, and the first release on his cultish label, Kye, ‘Poem (For Voice & Tape)’ is something of a pivotal release in the modern field, sustaining a sort of outsider art energy previously explored by likes of Lambkin’s hero Anton Heyboer in a way that somehow feels timeless and of its time. It’s arguably a landmark release that has provided a sort of lightning rod to other fringe radicals and lower case explorers such as Jason Lescalleet, Joe McPhee, Áine O’Dwyer, and most recently Bill Nace (ov Body/Head, w/ Kim Gordon), and therefore has a lot to answer for.
Inside this issue: South Africa’s new jazz generation: Thandi Ntuli, Siyabonga Mthembu, Bokani Dyer, Siya Makuzeni and others are at the forefront of a vibrant and booming South African jazz scene, as illustrated by two new compilations. By Francis Gooding
Mamer: The Chinese multi-instrumentalist resists categorisation and canon via his continually evolving music. By Josh Feola
The Primer: Carla Bley: The ambitious and highly versatile pianist, composer and collaborator has been blowing minds for over 50 years. Daniel Spicer presents a user’s guide to her body of work
Invisible Jukebox: Mark Fell × Rian Treanor: UK electronic music’s esteemed father and son duo test each other with a mystery record selection
Hiele: Squiffy electronics and milky piss from the Belgian composer. By Louis Pattison
Altın Gün: Amsterdam based outfit bring Turkish tradition to the dance. By Daniel Spicer
Rob Noyes: Tokyo via Massachusetts, fingerpicking via punk for the guitarist/composer. By Tony Rettman
Kikimore: The non-hierarchical Ljubljana collective Do It With Others. By Abi Bliss
Unlimited Editions: Jazz In Britain
Unofficial Channels: Philly Hiphop Radio Freestyles
Global Ear: Our regular column continues to report on music in the time of pandemic. This month: broadcasting in Brazil and solidarity radio in Tblisi, Georgia
The Inner Sleeve: Elvin Brandhi on a Haunter Records album launch
Epiphanies: King Britt on the everlasting influence of Mwandishi
Print Run: New music books: Andrew Weatherall, Los Angeles noise, an obstinate clot, and more
On Screen: New films and DVDs: John McDermott’s Music, Money, Madness... Jimi Hendrix In Maui; David Bernabo’s Just For The Record: Conversations With And About “Blue” Gene Tyranny
On Site: Recent art shows: Basel Abbas & Ruanne Abbou-Rahme; I Should Be Doing Something Else Right Now at Somerset House
On Location: Recent live events and streams: Infrequent Seams Streaming Festival, Nicole Mitchell, Radiophrenia 2020, Nyege Nyege Festival, and more
40th anniversary edition of NWW’s second album dating back to 1980, wickedly complicating their enigma with a perplexing surrealist collage of psychedelic freeness and communal industrial jams
Available on LP for first time in 30 years, ‘To The Quiet Men From A Tiny Girl’ is still as strange and twisted an album as its title and that artwork would suggest. It marks the group near the start of their bent curve, with Steven Stapleton joined by early members Herman Pathak and John Fothergill, and French avant-garde legend Jac Berrocal on Conch, for a decimated trip into sub- or pre-conscious sound arrangements that get under the skin and unpredictably writhe with a raw, unsettling sensuality dislocated somewhere between snuff film ambience and post-industrial organism.
Leading down their overgrown garden path from 1979’s legendary ‘Chance Meeting On A Dissecting Table Of A Sewing Machine And An Umbrella’, the band’s follow-up could have conceivably moved in any direction after that unprecedented start, and it bloody well does; tripping balls in a way that juices, un-stitches, and messes with then pre-existing frameworks of free jazz, industrial music, and avant-garde experimentalist expression: or simply what would become known as NWW musick.
In tortuously durational side-long works they morph amp hum into licks of fiery psych guitar and cut-up concrète, initially forging a sort of lysergic caveman rock fronted by clangers, that descends into bestial howls, pockets of squealing guitar abstractions and what sounds like a a flock of jazzy geese. And that’s only the first side. The second is equally un/hinged, with cut-up voices pranging from the ether against backdrops of machine elves unscrewing a cavernous workshop at midnight, then gelling into the sickliest music box mælodies and back to avian jazz frolics from another dimension. The band were apparently unhappy with the results of this album, and it remains a fucking weird piece of experimental history.
Hybrid uptempo club constructions from Montreal-based Slick Shoota. A gram of messy rave energy sprinkled into a wrap of footwork, trap and jungle sonics.
We might still be a few months from the function, but Slick Shoota has provided a soundtrack that has us gasping for a large speaker and baggie of whatever. The producer and DJ cut his teeth in Norway running the notorious Ball Em Up night and was inaugurated into the Teklife family back in 2015; now he's based in Montreal and this selection of sci-fi tinged bass exposition is a testament to his persistent globetrotting.
Influences here are easy to place, but are melted into a hybrid sound that's high-tempo but not strictly tied to one framework or another. The relentless thrust of footwork is omnipresent, but garnished with elements snatched from jungle and hardcore, bassline and trap. Standouts are the wobbly 'Delahaze', a cheeky bassline-cum-club stomper that sounds like it was engineered on the cursed space station in "Event Horizon" and 'MTL Hardcore', that accurately reflects the DIY energy of Slick Shoota's adopted home with 12-bit breaks, chopped vocals and rolling rave stabs. Oof.
Mad strong set of panoramic electronics somewhere between Autechre, Cairo’s 1127, Helm and Porter Ricks, deploying two side-long isolationist dubs that sprawl from washed out low-end spasms to fractured triplets that ricochet and escalate into a brutal, beautiful wall of sound. Pretty special this one!
Unglee Izi, whoever he or she may be, follows the single-minded but expansive course of a handful of solo albums since 2016 with a glacial confluence of booming subs and shivering hi-hats with slow-burning textural attrition and sublime pads that develop into a heaving mass of synth noise. That dense bleakness is held in elemental balance with moments of astonishing beauty, like peaking up above the mist to catch a glimpse of vast panoramic vistas at night.
’Sécurité du Premier Monde Tracteur Directrice de LASMA’ on the A side treks from reverberating bass hits and gamelan-like shudders up steep ravines, joined by rising cold winds and biospheric bleeps into blizzard-like dynamics, eventually revealing a peak of string pads and basses recalling the crest of ELpH’s ‘pHILM #1.’
The B-side deploys relentress trills and hi-hat rhythms descending a sheer granite face of synth pads that open out with a staggering sense of foreboding scale, only to calve away in avalanches of digital noise in the most visceral sense possible.
TIPPED to anyone looking for a frequency thrill.
Two years since 'Splazsh' topped a stack of annual polls, Actress presents his 3rd, and most coherent album, 'R.I.P' - his 2nd for Honest Jon's.
Despite being a vital cog in the machinery of underground UK dance and electronics since at least 2004 (when he released his 'No Tricks' debut), it's fair to say that it's only in the last few years he's made the shift from cult concern to acknowledged auteur of some repute. His work with Damon Albarn's DRC Music, beside a legendary DJ set at Sonar and killer remixes of Shangaan Electro, Panda Bear and Radiohead all certify the fact; so expectations are no doubt set high for 'R.I.P'.
Produced exclusively on hardware and inspired by Milton's classic poem 'Paradise Lost', he's arranged his most labyrinthine, esoteric release to date; a timeless set of 15 tracks traversing crystallized radiophonics and subterranean Techno with a psychedelic sideswipe that leaves us dazed and beguiled. By assimilating machine-like characteristics - his notions of "seeping yourself liquid into the machinery" and "I'm just an instrument, I'm completely dead when I write" - he's become an interpreter, a symbiotic conduit of semi-lucid visions into the interzone whose revelations contain the potential to manipulate your consciousness in magical ways compared to the prosaic intentions of so much bland and overwrought electronic music out there.
The newfound clarity and fluid narration of 'R.I.P.' makes this the most intriguing chapter in the Actress saga so far - an unmissable experience.
Recorded at INA GRM and Steamroom, covering a period of thirty years, the gap between the two visits Jim O'Rourke made to the GRM, featuring Eiko Ishibashi on piano, Atsuko Hatano on violin and viola and Eivind Lonning on trumpet .
"Shutting Down Here" is an exceptional recording, commencing GRM's brand new series of releases "Portraits GRM" and covering 30 years of activity from Jim O'Rourke. O'Rourke first visited the studio as a dedicated fan in the 1980s, returning three decades later with his own legend now set in stone. But the pre-supposed dialog between apprentice and master is difficult to excavate; the sounds presented on "Shutting Down Here" melt into each other: piano from Eiko Ishibashi, viola and violin from Atsuko Hatano, Eivind Lonning's trumpet and electronics and other elements from O'Rourke himself.
It's a graceful, poignant fusion of past, present and future, with fragmented pre-digital cyber-drones mutating into acoustic textures, swelling into jubilance or deep-diving into whirlpools of dissonant doom. There's a story here, somewhere, self-referential and non-linear, sipping the auteur's mysterious legacy and contributing criticality. O'Rourke has dedicated four albums to visionary director Nicolas Roeg (Drag City quadrilogy "Bad Timing", "Eureka", "Insignificance" and "The Visitor"), but "Shutting Down Here" might be closest stylistically to Roeg's idiosyncratic, deconstructed vision.
"Due to the wide dynamic levels, please adjust your volume accordingly."
A mixture of social, cultural, musical and oral history, Join The Future reveals the untold stories of bleep’s Yorkshire pioneers and those that came in their wake, moving from electro all-dayers and dub soundsystem clashes of the mid-1980s to the birth of hardcore and jungle in London and the South East. Along the way, you’ll find first-hand accounts of key clubs and raves, biographies of forgotten and overlooked production pioneers, stories of bleep outposts in Canada and the United States, and the inside story of the early years of one of electronic music’s most iconic labels, Warp Records.
"Includes quotes drawn from hundreds of interviews with DJs, dancers, producers and record label owners, including Cabaret Voltaire, Nightmares On Wax, LFO, Altern8, 808 State, Fabio & Grooverider, 4 Hero and many more.
Matt Anniss is a journalist and author specializing in electronic music, DJing and club culture. He began his career on internet magazines in the late 1990s before joining the staff of IDJ Magazine as Music Editor in 2000, later becoming Editor. Since leaving the magazine in 2008, he’s become a regular contributor to Resident Advisor, Red Bull Music Academy Daily and DJ Magazine, specializing in historical aspects of dance music culture.
“This was a vital creative era in British electronic music that deserved deeper exploration, so Matt Anniss’ history of ‘bleep and bass’, which sets the sound in the socio-political environment of its time, is a significant addition to the literature of dance culture.” Matthew Collin, author of ‘Altered State’ and ‘Rave On’"
One of the most influential, insular and multi-layered albums of the last three decades, created through endless hours of improvisation - involving almost fifty musicians and recorded in complete darkness, 'Laughing Stock' is an album that has attained almost mythical status since its release in 1991.
Following the commercial success of their singles "It's My Life", "Life's What You Make It” and album "The Colour of Spring”, Talk Talk retreated back into the shadows and produced two albums that defied categorisation. After the release of the first of these (Spirit of Eden) and a proolonged court case, the band parted ways with EMI and signed to iconic jazz imprint Verve who financed the long and complicated recording of Laughing Stock. Assembling almost 50 guest musicians, Mark Hollis is said to have demanded they record in almost complete darkness, improvising for hours to produce individual parts without hearing any backing tracks or surrounding material. Most of these recordings were discarded, but from what remained Hollis and producer Tim Friese-Greene pieced together a record that is essentially one long sequence of overdubs separated out into six long tracks.
Laughing Stock was to be their last album - on its release the NME described it as “horrible” and many listeners were left perplexed by its insular, unfathomable dynamics. But in the time since, Laughing Stock's legacy seems to have grown in stature with every year that has gone by. You can easily see the stylistic and conceptual markers left by Talk Talk in the way that bands like Radiohead went on to explore more open-ended, diverse sound sources and stylistic shifts - feeling able to experiment without fear of alienating a large fanbase as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a band with considerable chart success to do.
"Laughing Stock" is not only one of the most absorbing albums of the modern era, it’s also a masterclass of production and construction, a relic, perhaps, of an era when artists could completely disconnect from the pressures of their surroundings and dive deep into the wormhole...
An advanced masterclass in Berlin beat science, ‘Wireless’ is the final and arguably strongest solo release by T++; aka Torsten Pröfrock, an artist with a long lineage of important releases under numrous aliases - Dynamo, Erosion,Log, Resilent, Traktor, Various Artists and more - a true pillar of Berlin's Techno legacy.
First issued by Honest Jon’s in 2010, the 2x12” features samples of singer and ndingidi-player Ssekinomu (originally found on the EMI archival dive ‘Bellyachers, Listen - Songs From East Africa, 1938-46’) reworked by Pröfrock into a volley of rambunctious but rudely disciplined club workouts some 75 years later. In many other hands, this could have been just another passable cut ’n splice edit, but T++ treats the material with a balance of reverence and raving license, highlighting an instinctive understanding of the original music's intent and purpose, and their deep rooted connection to modern fast rap and hardcore dance musics.
The four tracks amount to a contemporary classic in their field and also exist in a strong tradition of German artists ranging from Stockhausen to Can and Basic Channel whose music has crucially incorporated the fluid, rolling nature and spectra of African drumming patterns. However, it’s vital to point out that T++’s take on African drumming is also filtered thru a love of UK music - Jungle, D&B, garage, dubstep - meaning that his rhythms are properly underlined with syncopated, technoid basslines owing as much to Kingston, Jamaica as Brixton and Sheffield in the UK.
For anyone who had been intently listening to Pröfrock's output since his Traktor gems, thru his Dynamo aces, to early work with Monolake and his string of seminal T++ 12”s in the 2000’s, on its release in 2010 ‘Wireless’ quickly came to epitomise his approach to broken techno production at its most open-ended and inexorable. Between the itchy, sprung step of ‘Cropped’, the puckish darkside torque of ‘Anyi’, a voodoo communal in ‘Voice No Bodies’, and the reanimated spirits of ‘Dig’ you have some of the finest mutant techno ever cut to vinyl.
An absolute must-have for dancers and DJs.
Flaming Tunes was recorded by Gareth Williams (ex of This Heat) and his childhood friend Mary Currie and released on cassette in 1985. A hodgepodge of lo-fi pop songs, experiments and location recordings that sound like they were never intended for public consumption, it’s by chance or design one of the most moving, personal, memorable DIY/experimental pop albums of the 20th century, you better believe it.
As Mary Currie describes it: "Flaming Tunes was a collaboration that came out of a friendship. Gareth and I would meet at 'Danger de Mort' Gareth's house in Balham usually during the daytime when my son was at nursery. Sometimes we'd be joined by others. A room full of instruments and things that could make noise. We made some of our own too and used available objects for percussion. Later on we had more sophisticated equipment - full size keyboard and 12 track recording facility. Sometimes things happened and sometimes we just indulged ourselves in making a bit of a racket. I can't begin to describe how Gareth put things together and this was often done well into the early hours of the morning. I'd go away and come back and what had started out as a fragment had become another flaming tune."
After a bootlegged version came out in the late 90's, Life & Living Records - an independent label operated by Williams' close circle of friends (Williams himself passed away in 2001 at the age of 48) - went back to the original master tapes and painstakingly restored and remastered the audio. As for the music itself - oh gosh, where to start? On one level - it's a hodgepodge of lo-fi pop songs, experiments and location recordings that sound like they were never intended for public consumption. And yet - these tunes just don't let go of you once you've spent any amount of time with them. Take "Breast Stroke" for instance - just the most unforgettable, life-affirming three and a half minutes you'll ever spend with a piece of music. The fact that the percussion was made on a casio keyboard and what sounds like a peculiarly British variant of a human beatbox, well, it's just the icing on the cake.
Really, words just do no justice.
This lot have released 5 x 12”s anonymously over the last 3 years via Hardwax and there’s no info about them anywhere, pretty sneaky.
They now land on Mana, a label so esoteric it has a flowchart on its website showing you how to get from Luc Ferrari to Nico Jaar in one short leap.
There are 4 long tracks, one per side, each clocking in at 15 mins and each taking time to expand into being. There is persistent water drumming, the a side is all exotic melodica, nature sounds and bells with Flanger-esque bass humps plus some water drumming, side 2 has a very burial mix sounding bassline sat low in the mix to give the water drumming more presence, side C is more reflective and serene tropical vibes, with side D giving it some classic dub pressure and location recordings which we think we once heard Bill Kouligas play on the radio a few years back and which is dope as fuck.
So yeah, it sounds a bit like a k-hole version of Burnt Friedman & Atom Heart’s early Flanger gear crossed with Burial Mix and that incredible water drumming vid dust to digital posted a while back on there tweeter.