GLITTERBEAT - Forced Exposure

$15.50 IN STOCK

A genre-defying Afrofuturist manifesto from Uganda. Producer, dancer, and choreographer Faizal Mostrixx's singular vision of East African electronic music is a lush sonic tapestry of polyrhythms, modern dancefloor styles, amapiano, Nile Basin ceremonial chants and Pan-African field recordings. A stalwart of the explosive Kampala electronic music scene, Mostrixx has collaborated with the Nyege Nyege collective appearing at both the African and European editions of their festival. Mutations is Faizal's second full-length album, following close on the heels of his acclaimed EP Transitions (2022). Mostrixx is first and foremost a dancer, but one who has found time to absorb a full range of global electronic music styles along the way, after a solid grounding in older sounds. Musically, his expression builds first on a Ugandan heritage, particularly its varied rhythmic patterns and the specific style of music played at the kadodi, an ancient circumcision ceremony. These antique local rhythm patterns are balanced with influences from further afield: downtempo, deep, and Afro House elements melded with sub-heavy dub, footwork and amapiano, East and South African polyrhythms, modern urban styles, and age-old chants from the Nile Basin. Horizons are further expanded with field recordings from Uganda, Congo, Ethiopia, and Tanzania, some by Mostrixx and others, from the 1950s, taken from the International Library of African Music. They are intricately interwoven into the sonic fabric of the record. This cultural Pan-Africanism should not obscure the fact that Faizal Mostrixx is very much an artist who traces a trajectory of his own, one that transcends the bedroom-producer ethos and dancefloor-ready functionalism of much contemporary cutting-edge electronic music. Mutations is above all a piece of work that feeds on the creative friction between different musical forms spanning various African regions and histories, but with the artist's own character and interests very much out front. The record features Lesothian artist Morena Leraba in imperious form on "Loosely", chants by the influential Ugandan singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Giovanni Kiyingi, and a restless exploration of rhythm and tempo throughout, whether on dancefloor bangers like "Tunes of the Jungle" and "Back to Tanzania" or the more downbeat "Afro Aliens". "Onions and Love", the opening track, is built around a beautiful acapella by Kebenesh, a lady who chops onions at the restaurant of the Alliance Ethio-Française in Addis Ababa, whom Mostrixx recorded in an impromptu studio. What he manages to do to superb effect throughout, in a series of mostly four-minute tracks, is push outwards to create a sense of epic yet still intimate space -- further proof of the fruitful feedback loop of choreography and music that makes this record so enjoyable.

$28.00 IN STOCK

LP version. A genre-defying Afrofuturist manifesto from Uganda. Producer, dancer, and choreographer Faizal Mostrixx's singular vision of East African electronic music is a lush sonic tapestry of polyrhythms, modern dancefloor styles, amapiano, Nile Basin ceremonial chants and Pan-African field recordings. A stalwart of the explosive Kampala electronic music scene, Mostrixx has collaborated with the Nyege Nyege collective appearing at both the African and European editions of their festival. Mutations is Faizal's second full-length album, following close on the heels of his acclaimed EP Transitions (2022). Mostrixx is first and foremost a dancer, but one who has found time to absorb a full range of global electronic music styles along the way, after a solid grounding in older sounds. Musically, his expression builds first on a Ugandan heritage, particularly its varied rhythmic patterns and the specific style of music played at the kadodi, an ancient circumcision ceremony. These antique local rhythm patterns are balanced with influences from further afield: downtempo, deep, and Afro House elements melded with sub-heavy dub, footwork and amapiano, East and South African polyrhythms, modern urban styles, and age-old chants from the Nile Basin. Horizons are further expanded with field recordings from Uganda, Congo, Ethiopia, and Tanzania, some by Mostrixx and others, from the 1950s, taken from the International Library of African Music. They are intricately interwoven into the sonic fabric of the record. This cultural Pan-Africanism should not obscure the fact that Faizal Mostrixx is very much an artist who traces a trajectory of his own, one that transcends the bedroom-producer ethos and dancefloor-ready functionalism of much contemporary cutting-edge electronic music. Mutations is above all a piece of work that feeds on the creative friction between different musical forms spanning various African regions and histories, but with the artist's own character and interests very much out front. The record features Lesothian artist Morena Leraba in imperious form on "Loosely", chants by the influential Ugandan singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Giovanni Kiyingi, and a restless exploration of rhythm and tempo throughout, whether on dancefloor bangers like "Tunes of the Jungle" and "Back to Tanzania" or the more downbeat "Afro Aliens". "Onions and Love", the opening track, is built around a beautiful acapella by Kebenesh, a lady who chops onions at the restaurant of the Alliance Ethio-Française in Addis Ababa, whom Mostrixx recorded in an impromptu studio. What he manages to do to superb effect throughout, in a series of mostly four-minute tracks, is push outwards to create a sense of epic yet still intimate space -- further proof of the fruitful feedback loop of choreography and music that makes this record so enjoyable.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Mesmerizing field recordings from Botswana. Producer/recordist/Grammy winner Ian Brennan ventured to an end-of-the-road location to document songs sung in Taa, a rich language on the verge of extinction. This captivating music is created by solo and layered voices, handclaps, found percussion and thumb piano. Shamanic, ghostly ballads from the farthest reaches of Southern Africa. Volume #11 of Glitterbeat's acclaimed Hidden Musics series. The Taa language in Botswana possesses 112 sounds, the most of any language in the world. In contrast, English has approximately 44 sounds, Italian 32. But there are only around 2,500 Taa speakers remaining and the language is "dying." The songs on this album are mostly mantras... prayers that repeat the same words or phrases over and over again. The song titles tell entire stories by themselves, and with the Taa language's heavy use of click consonants, the sounds carry the meaning as much as the words. The name of the Taa language itself translates to "human being," making its threat of extinction all the more poignant --the language living in the people, not on the page. The explanation of lyrics often took longer than the songs themselves -- difficult to translate, complex thoughts encapsulated in a single word.

"Botswana is diamond-drunk nation, hosting the biggest diamond mine on earth. But the Taa villages at the furthest reach of dead-end dirt roads are where the country expires and the people are left forgotten by unguarded borders. One village's name literally translates to "the very end." Wherever we reached, elderly shamans -- two who were blind -- gathered and played ghostly ballads. Yet, they told us that there were many other songs and those could not be played since performing them in the daytime would bring bad luck. One shaman's son said he hadn't heard the music performed since he was a child in the 1980s, over thirty years ago. Many were 'homemade-beer, drinking songs.' Another shaman's parents taught him to play the thumb piano as a way of remembering them after they were gone Botswana is so flat, at sunset you can see the earth's own shadow -- the horizon bending back on itself. We visited the highest point in the country, a hill that would barely register as one elsewhere. It is a land largely defined by absence. The towns resembled trailer-parks in America's southwest..." --Notes written by Ian Brennan

$15.50 IN STOCK

Work Hard solidifies King Ayisoba's reputation as both a shamanic performer and a restless sonic experimenter. The album is a wild mashup of Ayisoba's frenetic Kologo sound and musical deep dives from an exciting roster of Ghanaian producers and contributors. Curated and partially mixed by Zea, from post-punk legends The Ex. Work Hard has a different focus than Ayisoba's previous releases. This was partly due to the disruptions and adjustments that Covid brought in its wake, which in turn necessitated a more homegrown strategy. The bulk of the recording and mixing was done at Top Link, Francis Ayamga's hilltop studio in Bongo, a town in the Upper East Region of Ghana bordering Burkina Faso. Francis has become an in-demand producer, due mainly to his previous work with Ayisoba, a relationship that also packed in a European tour as part of the King's band, playing the djembe and bembe drums. Francis has thrown himself into curating as much of the local music scene as possible, producing This is FraFra Power (2019), released on Makkum Records, the label of key Ayisoba collaborator and main international "presence" on Work Hard, Zea, aka Arnold de Boer. De Boer, who mixed two tracks and did the mastering (as well as adding vocals and guitar parts), talked of how some of the "Glocal" sounds on King Ayisoba's new record initially came to pass. The record's core playfulness, brilliantly captured by Ayamga, could be a spirit conjured up whilst playing live back in 2019, when Zea and Oscar Jan Hoogland toured with King Ayisoba, Ayuune Sule, Atamina, Prince Buju, and others. Tracks are often adorned with digital candy courtesy of Fruity Loops and Cubase, two programs that often inform the sound of contemporary African pop. Unlike his previous album, 2017's 1000 Can Die, Work Hard showcases no guest musicians, but De Boer sees the local involvement creating a practice akin to that nurtured at the Black Ark studios, both in terms of vibe and operation. As noted earlier, Zea throws a rope bridge to another creative hub with its roots firmly planted in the local community, Katzwijn Studios in Voorhout. For Work Hard, Ayisoba recorded one mid-tour track in this magical converted old bulb shed, the glorious "People Talk Too Much". Despite having a foot in two continents, the album is perhaps Ayisoba's most consistent, "concentrated" release. The sleeve notes and lyrics, in Frafra, Twi, or the King's own style of pidgin English, are strident and sometimes mischievous statements, dealing with uncomfortable issues many often prefer to ignore in an increasingly cloistered West.

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. Work Hard solidifies King Ayisoba's reputation as both a shamanic performer and a restless sonic experimenter. The album is a wild mashup of Ayisoba's frenetic Kologo sound and musical deep dives from an exciting roster of Ghanaian producers and contributors. Curated and partially mixed by Zea, from post-punk legends The Ex. Work Hard has a different focus than Ayisoba's previous releases. This was partly due to the disruptions and adjustments that Covid brought in its wake, which in turn necessitated a more homegrown strategy. The bulk of the recording and mixing was done at Top Link, Francis Ayamga's hilltop studio in Bongo, a town in the Upper East Region of Ghana bordering Burkina Faso. Francis has become an in-demand producer, due mainly to his previous work with Ayisoba, a relationship that also packed in a European tour as part of the King's band, playing the djembe and bembe drums. Francis has thrown himself into curating as much of the local music scene as possible, producing This is FraFra Power (2019), released on Makkum Records, the label of key Ayisoba collaborator and main international "presence" on Work Hard, Zea, aka Arnold de Boer. De Boer, who mixed two tracks and did the mastering (as well as adding vocals and guitar parts), talked of how some of the "Glocal" sounds on King Ayisoba's new record initially came to pass. The record's core playfulness, brilliantly captured by Ayamga, could be a spirit conjured up whilst playing live back in 2019, when Zea and Oscar Jan Hoogland toured with King Ayisoba, Ayuune Sule, Atamina, Prince Buju, and others. Tracks are often adorned with digital candy courtesy of Fruity Loops and Cubase, two programs that often inform the sound of contemporary African pop. Unlike his previous album, 2017's 1000 Can Die, Work Hard showcases no guest musicians, but De Boer sees the local involvement creating a practice akin to that nurtured at the Black Ark studios, both in terms of vibe and operation. As noted earlier, Zea throws a rope bridge to another creative hub with its roots firmly planted in the local community, Katzwijn Studios in Voorhout. For Work Hard, Ayisoba recorded one mid-tour track in this magical converted old bulb shed, the glorious "People Talk Too Much". Despite having a foot in two continents, the album is perhaps Ayisoba's most consistent, "concentrated" release. The sleeve notes and lyrics, in Frafra, Twi, or the King's own style of pidgin English, are strident and sometimes mischievous statements, dealing with uncomfortable issues many often prefer to ignore in an increasingly cloistered West.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Yanna Momina's Afar Ways was recorded live in a stilt-hut on the horn of Africa when Grammy-winning producer and author, Ian Brennan (Tinariwen, Zomba Prison Project, Ustad Saami) visited Djibouti in the spring of 2018. The album is beautifully focused around Momina's resonant vocals and the sparest of musical backings (acoustic guitar, handclaps, calabash). It is the tenth release in Glitterbeat's acclaimed "Hidden Musics" series. Music is not something the rural Afar people "do for show," Momina asserted. Since most have no television, it is done for their own amusement every night. As Yanna Momina and Brennan recorded, the tide came in and they ended-up surrounded by water. Throughout the album, the thatch hut audibly creaks and rocks in the waves. Born in 1948, Yanna was discovered while accompanied on a two-string shingle played with nails and a matchbox for maracas. She made a name in the region not just for her thrilling vibrato, but for being the rare Afar woman who writes her own songs. Brennan states, "Yanna has one of the most unique voices I've ever heard. She flirts with the edge of chaos without losing control of her idiosyncratic phrasing." "We set-up to record in a stilt-hut," he adds as he describes the atmosphere of the recording session. "Moving at the speed of another culture, what first sounded like a call to prayer, was only conversation. And then we began. Momina was accompanied by a rotating cast of friends who passed around guitars and a calabash. They freely offered up handclaps and background vocals -- in service of the artist they addressed honorifically as 'aunt.'" As an experiment, Brennan asked Momina to try speaking over some music. On the spot she brainstormed a septuagenarian rap for the ages, riding an imaginary bass-line for over ten minutes that could be felt, though not heard. Then, after a manic burst of tunes, Momina asked her band to set down their instruments and undertook an a cappella rendition of "My Family Won't Let Me Marry the Man I Love (I Am Forced to Wed My Uncle)," a song that even the friends gathered had never heard before. It was followed by a wordlessness that made undeniably clear that the afternoon's recording had concluded. Personnel: Yanna Momina - lead vocals, percussion; JP - rhythm guitar, vocals, percussion; Hussan Jean - calabash, percussion, background vocals; Andre Fanazara - lead guitar, background vocals, percussion, lead vocals on "Heya (Welcome)". Photos by Marilena Delli.

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. Wildly acclaimed Istanbul-based artist Gaye Su Akyol delivers an unforgettable fourth album, Anadolu Ejderi. Building upon her mélange of Turkish psychedelia, empowered commentary and retro-futurist sonics, her vision is more personal and uncompromising than ever before. Lauded for her startling, innovative mix of Turkish psychedelia and folk song, surf music and ʼ90s Western rock, a global sweet spot where Anatolian music heroine Selda Bağcan rubbed shoulders with Kurt Cobain, Akyol was ready to expand her vision after a relentless period on the road. Everything on Anadolu Ejderi -- the title translates as "Anatolian Dragon" -- breathes fire. It takes chances, the lyrics offer an exploration of politics in today's Turkey. The personal is very much part of that. While it can hark back to the beauty of Istanbul before the coups that changed the place, when the country shifted, Anadolu Ejderi is a record that's filled with possibilities and dives into the unexpected. It's there in the dancing joy of slipping a disco section into the title track or the stark beauty of the acoustic openings to "Yaram Derin Derin Kanar" and "Biz Ne Zaman Düşman Olduk," which arrive as shocks to the system. If you thought you knew what to expect in Gaye Su Akyol's music, things have changed. Akyol's lyrics lure, puzzle, and often take by surprise, as with the album's final track, "Içinde Uyanıyoruz Hakikatin" (We Are Waking Up In Reality). Musically it can seem like the closest to a straightforward Western song she's come, but, Akyol notes, "you also hear non-existent Turkish folk". Akyol is an astute observer of what's happened to her country. The tales history tells are important to her. That first upheaval of 1980 was followed by another in 1997, and her cries for what's lost stand in her words. The political allusions are often carefully oblique, but they're there. The instrumentation forges closer connections between Turkey's past and its present. The rock guitar, bass and drum trio are now accompanied by traditional instruments such as violin, oud, electro baglama, cümbüş, sazbüş. With Anadolu Ejderi, Akyol says, "I'm telling stories for the future." To do that takes courage. It takes bravery and daring. Listen, and you'll hear the roar of the Anatolian dragon as it roars. "Her voice is a mesmerizing thing, deep and plummy enough to shake trees and stir hearts." --Pitchfork

$15.50 IN STOCK

Wildly acclaimed Istanbul-based artist Gaye Su Akyol delivers an unforgettable fourth album, Anadolu Ejderi. Building upon her mélange of Turkish psychedelia, empowered commentary and retro-futurist sonics, her vision is more personal and uncompromising than ever before. Lauded for her startling, innovative mix of Turkish psychedelia and folk song, surf music and ʼ90s Western rock, a global sweet spot where Anatolian music heroine Selda Bağcan rubbed shoulders with Kurt Cobain, Akyol was ready to expand her vision after a relentless period on the road. Everything on Anadolu Ejderi -- the title translates as "Anatolian Dragon" -- breathes fire. It takes chances, the lyrics offer an exploration of politics in today's Turkey. The personal is very much part of that. While it can hark back to the beauty of Istanbul before the coups that changed the place, when the country shifted, Anadolu Ejderi is a record that's filled with possibilities and dives into the unexpected. It's there in the dancing joy of slipping a disco section into the title track or the stark beauty of the acoustic openings to "Yaram Derin Derin Kanar" and "Biz Ne Zaman Düşman Olduk," which arrive as shocks to the system. If you thought you knew what to expect in Gaye Su Akyol's music, things have changed. Akyol's lyrics lure, puzzle, and often take by surprise, as with the album's final track, "Içinde Uyanıyoruz Hakikatin" (We Are Waking Up In Reality). Musically it can seem like the closest to a straightforward Western song she's come, but, Akyol notes, "you also hear non-existent Turkish folk". Akyol is an astute observer of what's happened to her country. The tales history tells are important to her. That first upheaval of 1980 was followed by another in 1997, and her cries for what's lost stand in her words. The political allusions are often carefully oblique, but they're there. The instrumentation forges closer connections between Turkey's past and its present. The rock guitar, bass and drum trio are now accompanied by traditional instruments such as violin, oud, electro baglama, cümbüş, sazbüş. With Anadolu Ejderi, Akyol says, "I'm telling stories for the future." To do that takes courage. It takes bravery and daring. Listen, and you'll hear the roar of the Anatolian dragon as it roars. "Her voice is a mesmerizing thing, deep and plummy enough to shake trees and stir hearts." --Pitchfork

$15.50 IN STOCK

The new third album from award-winning Israeli-Persian singer Liraz is an invitation to dream. Anthems, love ballads, glittery Middle Eastern dance tunes -- a collection of 11 tracks that enrich that signature blend of tradi-modern rhythms and retro-Persian sonics. Liraz and her Israeli sextet (three women, three men) recorded Roya over ten days in Istanbul, in a basement studio hidden from public view and crackling with creativity. With them, on violin, viola and the tar, the wasp-waisted wooden Iranian lute, were composers and musicians from the Iranian capital, Tehran. The same clutch of anonymous players who previously collaborated with Liraz online, under the radar of Tehran's secret police, for her feted 2020 album, Zan (GB 101CD/LP, 2020). Players who'd travelled undercover from Tehran to Istanbul to work with Liraz and producer/multi-instrumentalist Uri Brauner Kinrot in the flesh. Featuring music written by bassist Amir Sadot, "Doone Doone" is a rollicking ode to the Tehrani musicians Liraz befriended through computer screens. "Mimiram" delivers dramatic protestations of love with knowing irreverence; while "Omid" -- with lyrics by an anonymous Iranian female musician and music by Zan co-writer Ilan Smilan -- tells of a man named Hope and of hope, who is also a man. A slow, lonely song about Iran, the string-and-synth-driven "Tanha" was recorded on the day the Iranians may or may not have arrived in Istanbul. Her Hebrew accent intact, her confidence boosted by prestigious awards (Songlines Artist of the Year 2021) and widespread international acclaim, Liraz has never sounded so passionate, so strong and defiant. Roya, then, is the next phase of a high-profile career further distinguished by a drive to fight oppression, to champion the right of women everywhere to sing, perform and be heard. Liraz grew up dancing to the music of divas such as Ramesh and Googoosh celebrated in Tehran in the '60s and '70s, the golden age of Persian pop. She also loved female singer-songwriters: Kate Bush, Tori Amos. Lessons in singing, music and acting -- and a stint spent clubbing - were followed by three years working in the US as an actress, appearing in the big budget films such as Fair Game and A Late Quartet. Liraz also appeared as a Farsi-speaking Mossad operative in the 2020 Apple TV espionage series Tehran. In Tehrangeles -- the Little Tehran of Los Angeles -- she found her people, embraced her inner Persian. With each album, Liraz has grown bolder, more outspoken (ask her about Palestine and she'll extol Palestinian rights, too). Recorded in secrecy in Istanbul with her band from Tel Aviv and risk-defying Iranian musicians from Tehran. A musical portal to a place of peace, joy and unfettered freedom.

$15.50 IN STOCK

The kaleidoscopic third album from Seán Mulrooney and his Ireland meets Berlin ensemble. Ecstatic folk-psych that full embraces the natural world and living ancestry, through joyful experimentation and deeply rooted sonics. An inspired soundscape that echoes eclectic and eccentric atmospheres: traditional Irish folk, outsider pop, global sacred music and drone rock. Features guests from Tindersticks, Clannad, as well as Irish troubadour Damien Dempsey. Titled after this concept of bright bravery, Misneach, is the third full-length from Ireland's Tau & the Drones of Praise. Following on 2016's Tau Tau Tau and 2019's self-titled album, as well as 2020's widely acclaimed Seanóirí Naofa EP, it is a next-stage realization of the traveler-folk vision of principal songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Seán Mulrooney, whose travels invariably inform the songs being written. That's nothing new for Tau, now officially Tau & the Drones of Praise, who have in the past engaged with folk traditions stemming from Mulrooney's Irish homeland as well weaving in the teachings of the indigenous first nations people from Turtle Island, the continent of America. Recorded like its predecessors mostly in Berlin at Impression Studios by Robbie Moore, who also plays in the main four-piece studio lineup with Mulrooney, Earl Harvin (Tindersticks) and Iain Faulkner (who helmed additional recording in Dublin at Sonic Studios), Misneach is nonetheless the boldest and farthest-reaching work Tau & the Drones of Praise have done, stepping beyond expectation born of their past and into a reimagined future of interaction with the natural world both within and outside ourselves. Misneach is a homecoming for Mulrooney, who, even as the arrangement of opener "It's Right to Give Drones and Praise" seems to reference Screamadelica-era Primal Scream, establishes Ireland as the backdrop on which the songs are built. Heralded Irish folk troubadour Damien Dempsey and Pól Brennan from the legendary County Donegal band Clannad are just two of the more than 16 guests featured on the album. Engineer Robbie Moore calls it "adding to the party," a process where an organic interwovenness is joyfully unleashed. But in the hands of Mulrooney -- and the significant company he keeps -- Misneach is also the clearest and most live-sounding that Tau & the Drones of Praise have been yet. The songs are brimming with energy but are never overblown or melodramatic, even as grand ideas coincide with arrangements that, despite their depth, remain wholly unpretentious and earthed. Cultures, languages and gods tie together.

$23.50 IN STOCK

LP version. The kaleidoscopic third album from Seán Mulrooney and his Ireland meets Berlin ensemble. Ecstatic folk-psych that full embraces the natural world and living ancestry, through joyful experimentation and deeply rooted sonics. An inspired soundscape that echoes eclectic and eccentric atmospheres: traditional Irish folk, outsider pop, global sacred music and drone rock. Features guests from Tindersticks, Clannad, as well as Irish troubadour Damien Dempsey. Titled after this concept of bright bravery, Misneach, is the third full-length from Ireland's Tau & the Drones of Praise. Following on 2016's Tau Tau Tau and 2019's self-titled album, as well as 2020's widely acclaimed Seanóirí Naofa EP, it is a next-stage realization of the traveler-folk vision of principal songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Seán Mulrooney, whose travels invariably inform the songs being written. That's nothing new for Tau, now officially Tau & the Drones of Praise, who have in the past engaged with folk traditions stemming from Mulrooney's Irish homeland as well weaving in the teachings of the indigenous first nations people from Turtle Island, the continent of America. Recorded like its predecessors mostly in Berlin at Impression Studios by Robbie Moore, who also plays in the main four-piece studio lineup with Mulrooney, Earl Harvin (Tindersticks) and Iain Faulkner (who helmed additional recording in Dublin at Sonic Studios), Misneach is nonetheless the boldest and farthest-reaching work Tau & the Drones of Praise have done, stepping beyond expectation born of their past and into a reimagined future of interaction with the natural world both within and outside ourselves. Misneach is a homecoming for Mulrooney, who, even as the arrangement of opener "It's Right to Give Drones and Praise" seems to reference Screamadelica-era Primal Scream, establishes Ireland as the backdrop on which the songs are built. Heralded Irish folk troubadour Damien Dempsey and Pól Brennan from the legendary County Donegal band Clannad are just two of the more than 16 guests featured on the album. Engineer Robbie Moore calls it "adding to the party," a process where an organic interwovenness is joyfully unleashed. But in the hands of Mulrooney -- and the significant company he keeps -- Misneach is also the clearest and most live-sounding that Tau & the Drones of Praise have been yet. The songs are brimming with energy but are never overblown or melodramatic, even as grand ideas coincide with arrangements that, despite their depth, remain wholly unpretentious and earthed. Cultures, languages and gods tie together.

$20.50 IN STOCK

A thrilling collaboration between the acclaimed Belgian composer/instrumentalist Catherine Graindorge and the ever-iconic Iggy Pop. Haunting string and electronic textures melding with Iggy's baritone, cautionary tales. A deep dive into the heart of these unsettled times. It all began with the radio. Together, they've forged a meeting of minds and spirits that's resulted in the The Dictator, an EP that combines their talents: her music, his voice. "He played two tracks of mine on his BBC 6 Music show,"Graindorge explains, "so I sent an email addressed to Iggy to the producer of the show, saying that I was very honored and that I'd be delighted to work on a track with him. It was completely spontaneous; I never thought anything would really happen." But it did. To her disbelief and absolute delight, a reply came two days later: Catherine, I would love to make a track, Iggy. In addition to solo work and being part of the band Nile on WaX, she's worked with artists like Nick Cave, Hugo Race and esteemed producer/musician John Parish. Still, she expected nothing more than to add her violin to a song of his. Instead, she recalls, "Iggy said to send him a track. I began to improvise, and came up with three pieces at home. We communicated and began to exchange ideas." Her wish turned into a fever dream of creativity. "Over Christmas I recorded another track that was more rock. That grabbed him. Then he wrote the lyrics for 'The Dictator' two months before Russia invaded Ukraine." His inspiration came from her sounds and musical structures, and the world he sees around us. "There is a gothic masonry at work here, with a very old force abetted by very cunning structures," Iggy observes about Catherine's music. "My contribution is to report, through words, the current threat, and the longing for happiness and peace."

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. Middle Eastern psych-rock collective Al-Qasar's debut album is an explosive mix of heavy Arabian grooves, global psychedelia, and North African trance music. The band calls it "Arabian fuzz." Brazenly electric and deeply connected. When continents collide, they make a thunderous sound. Al-Qasar create the soundtrack to that fission on their full-length debut, Who Are We? The musicians came together, from France, Morocco, Algeria, Egypt, and the United States. Shows followed, first in France, then in Europe and the Middle East. They put out an EP, the widely-lauded Miraj, recorded in Cairo. Work on Who Are We? began in December 2020, with Attar Bellier composing eight tracks that writhe and roar in skillfully controlled chaos. Bass, drums and traditional percussion create a deep, irresistible groove for the foundation, while electric saz and guitars build a wailing wall above, with Moroccan vocalist Jaouad El Garouge's ecstatic voice, steeped in his Gnawa upbringing, pulling inspiration from history as it strides into the future. Drawing on years of experience working in Los Angeles studios, Attar Bellier produced the album. Who Are We? translates the sound that inhabited his head into something physical that stirs spirit, heart and feet. The Dead Kennedys' Jello Biafra was a natural addition to "Ya Malak," his inimitable voice reciting a translation of Egyptian revolutionary poet Ahmed Fouad Negm, elevating the record's social critique while showcasing the first-ever English recording of Negm's work. Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth layers textured, brooding guitar over the first two cuts, "Awtar Al Sharq" and "Awal." The sweeping drones embrace the Moroccan bendir groove to magical results. Hend Elrawy, the acclaimed Egyptian singer whom the band met in Cairo, brings her powerful voice to "Mal Wa Jamal", whose Arabic lyrics promote a female-centric and humbling outlook on prostitution and its consequences. Like the other songs on the album, its social consciousness is carefully veiled in images. "Hobek Tawrat," for instance, can be taken as a love song, with its seductive, ringing opening on the electric saz that leads up to the aching voice of New York-based Sudanese innovator Alsarah (Alsarah & The Nubatones). One of the band's great coups is the track "Barbès Barbès," an ode and homage to the neighborhood in Paris where Al-Qasar first came together. The iconic Mehdi Haddab (Speed Caravan) added his oud virtuosity to the track. Who Are We? is a deep, exhilarating album. Its intensity never wavers, music that pulls from the hypnotic roots of North African trance and threads it into a fabric with the elaborate beauty of Arabic scales and the shock and thrill of rock'n'roll. Mixed by Alain Johannes (Queens of the Stone Age, PJ Harvey). Mastered by Grammy-winner Dave Collins.

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. The new third album from award-winning Israeli-Persian singer Liraz is an invitation to dream. Anthems, love ballads, glittery Middle Eastern dance tunes -- a collection of 11 tracks that enrich that signature blend of tradi-modern rhythms and retro-Persian sonics. Liraz and her Israeli sextet (three women, three men) recorded Roya over ten days in Istanbul, in a basement studio hidden from public view and crackling with creativity. With them, on violin, viola and the tar, the wasp-waisted wooden Iranian lute, were composers and musicians from the Iranian capital, Tehran. The same clutch of anonymous players who previously collaborated with Liraz online, under the radar of Tehran's secret police, for her feted 2020 album, Zan (GB 101CD/LP, 2020). Players who'd travelled undercover from Tehran to Istanbul to work with Liraz and producer/multi-instrumentalist Uri Brauner Kinrot in the flesh. Featuring music written by bassist Amir Sadot, "Doone Doone" is a rollicking ode to the Tehrani musicians Liraz befriended through computer screens. "Mimiram" delivers dramatic protestations of love with knowing irreverence; while "Omid" -- with lyrics by an anonymous Iranian female musician and music by Zan co-writer Ilan Smilan -- tells of a man named Hope and of hope, who is also a man. A slow, lonely song about Iran, the string-and-synth-driven "Tanha" was recorded on the day the Iranians may or may not have arrived in Istanbul. Her Hebrew accent intact, her confidence boosted by prestigious awards (Songlines Artist of the Year 2021) and widespread international acclaim, Liraz has never sounded so passionate, so strong and defiant. Roya, then, is the next phase of a high-profile career further distinguished by a drive to fight oppression, to champion the right of women everywhere to sing, perform and be heard. Liraz grew up dancing to the music of divas such as Ramesh and Googoosh celebrated in Tehran in the '60s and '70s, the golden age of Persian pop. She also loved female singer-songwriters: Kate Bush, Tori Amos. Lessons in singing, music and acting -- and a stint spent clubbing - were followed by three years working in the US as an actress, appearing in the big budget films such as Fair Game and A Late Quartet. Liraz also appeared as a Farsi-speaking Mossad operative in the 2020 Apple TV espionage series Tehran. In Tehrangeles -- the Little Tehran of Los Angeles -- she found her people, embraced her inner Persian. With each album, Liraz has grown bolder, more outspoken (ask her about Palestine and she'll extol Palestinian rights, too). Recorded in secrecy in Istanbul with her band from Tel Aviv and risk-defying Iranian musicians from Tehran. A musical portal to a place of peace, joy and unfettered freedom.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Middle Eastern psych-rock collective Al-Qasar's debut album is an explosive mix of heavy Arabian grooves, global psychedelia, and North African trance music. The band calls it "Arabian fuzz." Brazenly electric and deeply connected. When continents collide, they make a thunderous sound. Al-Qasar create the soundtrack to that fission on their full-length debut, Who Are We? The musicians came together, from France, Morocco, Algeria, Egypt, and the United States. Shows followed, first in France, then in Europe and the Middle East. They put out an EP, the widely-lauded Miraj, recorded in Cairo. Work on Who Are We? began in December 2020, with Attar Bellier composing eight tracks that writhe and roar in skillfully controlled chaos. Bass, drums and traditional percussion create a deep, irresistible groove for the foundation, while electric saz and guitars build a wailing wall above, with Moroccan vocalist Jaouad El Garouge's ecstatic voice, steeped in his Gnawa upbringing, pulling inspiration from history as it strides into the future. Drawing on years of experience working in Los Angeles studios, Attar Bellier produced the album. Who Are We? translates the sound that inhabited his head into something physical that stirs spirit, heart and feet. The Dead Kennedys' Jello Biafra was a natural addition to "Ya Malak," his inimitable voice reciting a translation of Egyptian revolutionary poet Ahmed Fouad Negm, elevating the record's social critique while showcasing the first-ever English recording of Negm's work. Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth layers textured, brooding guitar over the first two cuts, "Awtar Al Sharq" and "Awal." The sweeping drones embrace the Moroccan bendir groove to magical results. Hend Elrawy, the acclaimed Egyptian singer whom the band met in Cairo, brings her powerful voice to "Mal Wa Jamal", whose Arabic lyrics promote a female-centric and humbling outlook on prostitution and its consequences. Like the other songs on the album, its social consciousness is carefully veiled in images. "Hobek Tawrat," for instance, can be taken as a love song, with its seductive, ringing opening on the electric saz that leads up to the aching voice of New York-based Sudanese innovator Alsarah (Alsarah & The Nubatones). One of the band's great coups is the track "Barbès Barbès," an ode and homage to the neighborhood in Paris where Al-Qasar first came together. The iconic Mehdi Haddab (Speed Caravan) added his oud virtuosity to the track. Who Are We? is a deep, exhilarating album. Its intensity never wavers, music that pulls from the hypnotic roots of North African trance and threads it into a fabric with the elaborate beauty of Arabic scales and the shock and thrill of rock'n'roll. Mixed by Alain Johannes (Queens of the Stone Age, PJ Harvey). Mastered by Grammy-winner Dave Collins.

$15.50 IN STOCK

A mysterious matrix that echoes disparate (but strangely compatible) sonic strands: deep griot traditions, Fugazi, Can, '70s era Zappa, Black Midi, the full throttle rush of Nyege Nyege Tapes. Emerging from an original dimension in sound, the polygenesis Avalanche Kaito redefine what it is to talk with the ancients whilst leaping forth into a futuristic chaos of noise on their debut album journey. A palpable experience with each sonic blast, each layer a revelation, this simultaneously taut but expansive universe, in which the oral traditions of the West African griot converge with Belgium post-punk, exists in its own space. Urban griot and multi-instrumentalist Kaito Winse (vocals, tama, peul flutes, mouth bow) fortuitously collided with Brussels noise punk musicians Benjamin Chaval (drums, electronics) and Arnaud Paquotte (bass) from the group Le Jour du Seigneur, after a friend of theirs in Burkina Faso played Kaito some of the duo's pummeling music. Through a twisting sequence of events, the trio eventually met and began developing the sound world of ancestral proverbs and dataist inspired technology that defines the album. Although the album is being released six months after the debut Dabalomuni EP showcase, the guitarist from that extraordinary otherworldly session, Nico Gitto is now part of the transformed setup; not so much replacing Paquotte as expanding the sound into another direction. With the help of the visual language program PureData (an open-source apparatus for creating interactive computer music and multimedia works) and his pummeling, rattled drumming, Benjamin and his sinewy bassist foil Arnaud create an effective torque and tumult for Kaito's commune with his roots and life in a very different bush of ghosts. Within that space, you'll not only hear super charged traces of post-punk but the tribal, free jazz, prog, and industrial-electronica as well. Kaito's griot ancestry and the band's motivation is a spontaneous escape from the addiction of the online world, a reconnection with the ritual of a live performance. Although created in a studio setting that live in the moment feeling and dynamism is authentically recreated on this album. The practice of improvising in the studio with meticulously arranged pieces blows up and out into the inter-dimensional slackened bass stalk of "Sunguru", and the wilder hysterics and danger of the progressive deconstruction "Douaga". In that postpunk mode, a Jah Wobble-like throbbed esoteric bass converges with more celestial manifestations on "Goomde", whilst "Eya" features a certain Scott Walker atmospheric gloom and earthy soul tumbling drums. At any one-time this trio are snarling yet hypnotic, willowy but thickened with a brooding menace.

$23.50 IN STOCK

Beautifully recorded in situ in the Rif mountains in the autumn of 2019, this 110-minute double-CD presents these legendary musicians expansively and unhindered. Based in Jajouka, Morocco, The Master Musicians are a collective of Jbala Sufi trance makers, committed to creating a contemporary representation of their centuries-old musical tradition. The album is produced by long-time band leader Bachir Attar, and with all but one of the tracks exceeding ten-minutes in length, it is clear that these recordings authoritatively grasp the textured essence of this timeless ensemble. Deeply hypnotic and earth-shakingly intense.

Text by acclaimed music critic Stephen Davis: "... The latest musical adept to turn inland at Larache, pass through Ksar, stop by the Tatoft caïd, and find the occluded road to Jajouka is the Italian musician and engineer Jacopo Andreini. In late 2019, as the planet was closing down, and as stories circulated about the musicians' vulnerability in today's world, Jacopo was hired by Bachir to make comprehensive recordings of the complete Jajouka music catalog. His mission, supervised by Bachir, was to record as much as possible -- hours and hours over the course of a week -- of Jajouka's varied styles (anthems, flutes, violins, singing) in their tin-roofed madrassa, using the latest sound gear -- eons away from Brion Gysin's 1955 reel-to-reel Uher machine. This selection of tracks from these sessions is the latest testament to the mystic enchantment and spiritual worth of Jajouka, captured in audio fidelity of the highest degree. The double-reed rhaita music recalls that Jajouka once provided musicians to Morocco's royal court. 'Khamsa Khamsin (The 55)' and 'Opening the Gate' are themes once deployed to accompany the Sultan to the mosque, and back again, as early as 1912 and before. The acoustic and percussive fiddle songs called Jibli ("mountain music") are typical of what is played for visitors to Jajouka after a savory evening meal of couscous and tagine. These songs are descended from Andaluz music, the millennium-old melodies of Moorish Iberia. Jajouka, its musicians, and traditions are indeed vulnerable and in transition in this rapidly changing era. It is lovingly curated projects like Dancing Under the Moon, plus the blessings of Baraka, and some luck and hard work by Bachir Attar and the current generation of the Master Musicians, that will hopefully see their ancient folkways survive into better times for everyone. Jajouka's is healing music for our viralized world."

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. A mysterious matrix that echoes disparate (but strangely compatible) sonic strands: deep griot traditions, Fugazi, Can, '70s era Zappa, Black Midi, the full throttle rush of Nyege Nyege Tapes. Emerging from an original dimension in sound, the polygenesis Avalanche Kaito redefine what it is to talk with the ancients whilst leaping forth into a futuristic chaos of noise on their debut album journey. A palpable experience with each sonic blast, each layer a revelation, this simultaneously taut but expansive universe, in which the oral traditions of the West African griot converge with Belgium post-punk, exists in its own space. Urban griot and multi-instrumentalist Kaito Winse (vocals, tama, peul flutes, mouth bow) fortuitously collided with Brussels noise punk musicians Benjamin Chaval (drums, electronics) and Arnaud Paquotte (bass) from the group Le Jour du Seigneur, after a friend of theirs in Burkina Faso played Kaito some of the duo's pummeling music. Through a twisting sequence of events, the trio eventually met and began developing the sound world of ancestral proverbs and dataist inspired technology that defines the album. Although the album is being released six months after the debut Dabalomuni EP showcase, the guitarist from that extraordinary otherworldly session, Nico Gitto is now part of the transformed setup; not so much replacing Paquotte as expanding the sound into another direction. With the help of the visual language program PureData (an open-source apparatus for creating interactive computer music and multimedia works) and his pummeling, rattled drumming, Benjamin and his sinewy bassist foil Arnaud create an effective torque and tumult for Kaito's commune with his roots and life in a very different bush of ghosts. Within that space, you'll not only hear super charged traces of post-punk but the tribal, free jazz, prog, and industrial-electronica as well. Kaito's griot ancestry and the band's motivation is a spontaneous escape from the addiction of the online world, a reconnection with the ritual of a live performance. Although created in a studio setting that live in the moment feeling and dynamism is authentically recreated on this album. The practice of improvising in the studio with meticulously arranged pieces blows up and out into the inter-dimensional slackened bass stalk of "Sunguru", and the wilder hysterics and danger of the progressive deconstruction "Douaga". In that postpunk mode, a Jah Wobble-like throbbed esoteric bass converges with more celestial manifestations on "Goomde", whilst "Eya" features a certain Scott Walker atmospheric gloom and earthy soul tumbling drums. At any one-time this trio are snarling yet hypnotic, willowy but thickened with a brooding menace.

$26.00 LOW STOCK LEVEL

LP version. Yīn Yīn's dazzling second album dives even deeper into dancefloor propulsion and space travel atmospherics than their lauded debut The Rabbit that Hunts Tigers (2019). The beautiful, old and somewhat staid city of Maastricht, where the band is based, isn't really conducive to setting up a bustling music scene: and it's a place where the outsiders quickly recognize each other. Yīn Yīn are all "nightlife people", which meant their friendship initially came about through co-organizing and deejaying DIY parties. Things started to move for real when Yves Lennertz and Kees Berkers decided to make a cassette tape that drew on references to Southern and South East Asian music. Once the idea was formed, Lennertz and Berkers wasted no time in taking "a lot" of instruments to a rented rehearsal room in a small village near Maastricht. They asked friends to help out, and they became a full band: with Remy Scheren on bass, Robbert Verwijlen on keys and Jerome Cardynaals, and Gino Bombrini on percussion. A "united against the world" stance is also heard at the end of "Declined by Universe". It's a funny, maybe surreptitious statement of belief in what they do. Yīn Yīn also wanted to create an illusion of strength in other ways: "Declined By Universe" sounds as if there is a large group of people playing, not just the core band. Nods to brilliant, invigorating dance music abound, some of the thumping beats in numbers like "Chong Wang" the title track and "Nautilus" drop some thumping 1990s-style electric boogie and Italo disco chops along the way. Then there is "Shēnzou V.", which plots a stately course between eastern-inflected pop music, Italo, and Harmonia-style electronic meditations. The expansive richness in sound and feel may be down to the fact that more samples, drum computers, and synthesizers are used on The Age of Aquarius than in their previous records, a process that intertwines with real-time playing in the studio. "Faiyadansu", for example, started with a sample found on an old traditional Japanese koto record. Cosmic appropriations of time also crop up in the titles, which may give the lie to some of the band members' preoccupations with the state of the world. An old trope musically the Age is most famously referenced in the hippie musical, Hair. Other direct references to cosmic times are in the track names "Kali Yuga" and "Satya Yuga": the Kali Yuga, in Hinduism, is the fourth and worst of the four yugas (world ages) in a Yuga Cycle, preceded by Dvapara Yuga and followed by the next cycle's Krita (Satya) Yuga.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Yīn Yīn's dazzling second album dives even deeper into dancefloor propulsion and space travel atmospherics than their lauded debut The Rabbit that Hunts Tigers (2019). The beautiful, old and somewhat staid city of Maastricht, where the band is based, isn't really conducive to setting up a bustling music scene: and it's a place where the outsiders quickly recognize each other. Yīn Yīn are all "nightlife people", which meant their friendship initially came about through co-organizing and deejaying DIY parties. Things started to move for real when Yves Lennertz and Kees Berkers decided to make a cassette tape that drew on references to Southern and South East Asian music. Once the idea was formed, Lennertz and Berkers wasted no time in taking "a lot" of instruments to a rented rehearsal room in a small village near Maastricht. They asked friends to help out, and they became a full band: with Remy Scheren on bass, Robbert Verwijlen on keys and Jerome Cardynaals, and Gino Bombrini on percussion. A "united against the world" stance is also heard at the end of "Declined by Universe". It's a funny, maybe surreptitious statement of belief in what they do. Yīn Yīn also wanted to create an illusion of strength in other ways: "Declined By Universe" sounds as if there is a large group of people playing, not just the core band. Nods to brilliant, invigorating dance music abound, some of the thumping beats in numbers like "Chong Wang" the title track and "Nautilus" drop some thumping 1990s-style electric boogie and Italo disco chops along the way. Then there is "Shēnzou V.", which plots a stately course between eastern-inflected pop music, Italo, and Harmonia-style electronic meditations. The expansive richness in sound and feel may be down to the fact that more samples, drum computers, and synthesizers are used on The Age of Aquarius than in their previous records, a process that intertwines with real-time playing in the studio. "Faiyadansu", for example, started with a sample found on an old traditional Japanese koto record. Cosmic appropriations of time also crop up in the titles, which may give the lie to some of the band members' preoccupations with the state of the world. An old trope musically the Age is most famously referenced in the hippie musical, Hair. Other direct references to cosmic times are in the track names "Kali Yuga" and "Satya Yuga": the Kali Yuga, in Hinduism, is the fourth and worst of the four yugas (world ages) in a Yuga Cycle, preceded by Dvapara Yuga and followed by the next cycle's Krita (Satya) Yuga.

$15.50 IN STOCK

Rough-hewn and exhilarating, EL Khat's second album Aalbat Alawi Op.99 is a deep dive into leader Eyal el Wahab's Yemenite roots and their inspired re-imaginings. A careening orchestra of percussion, horns, strings, electricity and el Wahab's own DIY instruments. Mesmerizing retro-futurist sounds. El Khat. Named for the drug used so widely chewed across the Middle East, the band's music is certainly addictive, more so with each outing. Their second album, Aalbat Alawi Op.99, is a disc full of joys, where the melodies unfold one after the other, involving and catchy. "I tried to be simple in the structure," explains Eyal el Wahab, the group's leader and heart, who composed and arranged almost everything on the album. Aalbat Alawi Op.99 is very much his vision. "It's a bit like pop music, where the soul is four chords and a melody. The difference is in the expression." That sense of expression and meaning flows through the first single, "Djaja," where he sings "From Yemen and beyond America/We are all together and I am alone." This is music that both looks over the shoulder to his family's past and forward to the world that lies outside. El Wahab plays many of the instruments on the album, things like the dli and the kearat that he constructed himself. A skilled carpenter, it's something he started doing several years ago, using his skills to make music from the items people discard. A child of the Yemeni diaspora who's grown up in Tel Aviv Jaffa, Israel, it's a practice that harks back to the family homeland, where even rubbish can become an instrument. Where the last album, Saadia Jefferon, saw Eyal el Wahab bring a funky, psychedelic re imagination to the traditional Yemeni songs that electrified him when he first heard them, this is a disc almost entirely filled with his own compositions, something close and personal that constantly looks back to his family's homeland on the Arabian Peninsula. "Joyously mixing authentically Arabic musical tropes with ethnomusicological forgeries. Vigorous psychedelic stomps...an exciting new discovery." --Uncut

$24.00 LOW STOCK LEVEL

LP version. Rough-hewn and exhilarating, EL Khat's second album Aalbat Alawi Op.99 is a deep dive into leader Eyal el Wahab's Yemenite roots and their inspired re-imaginings. A careening orchestra of percussion, horns, strings, electricity and el Wahab's own DIY instruments. Mesmerizing retro-futurist sounds. El Khat. Named for the drug used so widely chewed across the Middle East, the band's music is certainly addictive, more so with each outing. Their second album, Aalbat Alawi Op.99, is a disc full of joys, where the melodies unfold one after the other, involving and catchy. "I tried to be simple in the structure," explains Eyal el Wahab, the group's leader and heart, who composed and arranged almost everything on the album. Aalbat Alawi Op.99 is very much his vision. "It's a bit like pop music, where the soul is four chords and a melody. The difference is in the expression." That sense of expression and meaning flows through the first single, "Djaja," where he sings "From Yemen and beyond America/We are all together and I am alone." This is music that both looks over the shoulder to his family's past and forward to the world that lies outside. El Wahab plays many of the instruments on the album, things like the dli and the kearat that he constructed himself. A skilled carpenter, it's something he started doing several years ago, using his skills to make music from the items people discard. A child of the Yemeni diaspora who's grown up in Tel Aviv Jaffa, Israel, it's a practice that harks back to the family homeland, where even rubbish can become an instrument. Where the last album, Saadia Jefferon, saw Eyal el Wahab bring a funky, psychedelic re imagination to the traditional Yemeni songs that electrified him when he first heard them, this is a disc almost entirely filled with his own compositions, something close and personal that constantly looks back to his family's homeland on the Arabian Peninsula. "Joyously mixing authentically Arabic musical tropes with ethnomusicological forgeries. Vigorous psychedelic stomps...an exciting new discovery." --Uncut

$24.00 IN STOCK

LP version. With B FLAT A this much acclaimed quartet from Gdańsk have produced their most epic and visceral statement to date. A universe where echoes of Can, Syd Barrett, and Fugazi lovingly collide. Trupa Trupa consists of "four friends and captains" with different personalities: something that creates, in the words of singer Grzegorz Kwiatkowski, "troubles", which lead to "both a democracy and a polyphonic situation." You could also look to their formidable back catalog and sift through a body of work that can often sound hard, or blunt. Trupa Trupa look to confront evil. The band often does this openly and without compromise; even if the lyrics love to deal in metaphor or intrigue. Inevitably, COVID hangs over everything like a broody rain cloud. Grzegorz Kwiatkowski talks of a "visible paranoia" in the studio during the recording of B FLAT A. According to Kwiatkowski the record -- worked on when an American tour had to be canned at the last minute -- is a "kind of a study of disintegration and decomposition." Though still carrying the weight of unseen or unheard histories, whether ancient or modern, B FLAT A is the release where the provincial math rock, woozy psychedelia, and heavy folk elements finally coalesce in that most unfashionable of things, a sound that can fill a stadium. The band has always been able to shake the roots of any mountain in terms of making a noise but their new record showcases a new, outward-looking sensibility that could moonlight as the kind of sludgy, primetime pop-rock music that Pink Floyd once ensnared half the world's youth with. Listen to the airy "All And All" for example, with its gentle, organ bound melody. It could be a Beatles fly by, or a lost snippet from that period when Rick Wright took over song duties from Syd Barrett in the Floyd. In this regard it seems now that their last two releases, 2019's Of the Sun and 2017's Jolly New Songs (XRAY 136CD/LP) were brilliant teases, "existential" records that played footsie with the listener. B FLAT A is a much more upfront affair, armed with a quiver full of sonic arrows such as potential world hit, "Uniforms". This track, with its Guided By Voices-style simplicity, boils down all the nefarious, quixotic, algorithmic thoughts about "belonging" to a terrifying statement, "I wanna be all my uniforms". B FLAT A also foregrounds one of Trupa Trupa's great strengths, namely, their collective ability to make incredibly tactile, physical music. Nothing is left to chance, there is never the idea that the song and the texts have to undergo an awkward introduction after both have been created.

$15.50 IN STOCK

With B FLAT A this much acclaimed quartet from Gdańsk have produced their most epic and visceral statement to date. A universe where echoes of Can, Syd Barrett, and Fugazi lovingly collide. Trupa Trupa consists of "four friends and captains" with different personalities: something that creates, in the words of singer Grzegorz Kwiatkowski, "troubles", which lead to "both a democracy and a polyphonic situation." You could also look to their formidable back catalog and sift through a body of work that can often sound hard, or blunt. Trupa Trupa look to confront evil. The band often does this openly and without compromise; even if the lyrics love to deal in metaphor or intrigue. Inevitably, COVID hangs over everything like a broody rain cloud. Grzegorz Kwiatkowski talks of a "visible paranoia" in the studio during the recording of B FLAT A. According to Kwiatkowski the record -- worked on when an American tour had to be canned at the last minute -- is a "kind of a study of disintegration and decomposition." Though still carrying the weight of unseen or unheard histories, whether ancient or modern, B FLAT A is the release where the provincial math rock, woozy psychedelia, and heavy folk elements finally coalesce in that most unfashionable of things, a sound that can fill a stadium. The band has always been able to shake the roots of any mountain in terms of making a noise but their new record showcases a new, outward-looking sensibility that could moonlight as the kind of sludgy, primetime pop-rock music that Pink Floyd once ensnared half the world's youth with. Listen to the airy "All And All" for example, with its gentle, organ bound melody. It could be a Beatles fly by, or a lost snippet from that period when Rick Wright took over song duties from Syd Barrett in the Floyd. In this regard it seems now that their last two releases, 2019's Of the Sun and 2017's Jolly New Songs (XRAY 136CD/LP) were brilliant teases, "existential" records that played footsie with the listener. B FLAT A is a much more upfront affair, armed with a quiver full of sonic arrows such as potential world hit, "Uniforms". This track, with its Guided By Voices-style simplicity, boils down all the nefarious, quixotic, algorithmic thoughts about "belonging" to a terrifying statement, "I wanna be all my uniforms". B FLAT A also foregrounds one of Trupa Trupa's great strengths, namely, their collective ability to make incredibly tactile, physical music. Nothing is left to chance, there is never the idea that the song and the texts have to undergo an awkward introduction after both have been created.

$24.00 IN STOCK

Hunkered down and unable to record together, in 2020 the Mekons created a glorious digital chain letter of an album. Exquisite is a sprawling manifesto of connection and defiance that deftly slides through fiddle tunes, digi-dub, fireside ballads and urgent rock n' roll. And that's just side A. The original recording plan was to have been a whole-band-in-a-room session in Valencia, Spain. When the pandemic rendered that impossible the process took a sharp swerve. This legendary group from Leeds, have written contemporary music history for the last 40 years as radical innovators of both first generation punk and insurgent roots music, and Exquisite is another powerful vector of that legacy.

"In Paris, in 1925, Yves Tanguy, Jacques Prévert, André Breton and Marcel Duchamp invented a game they called 'cadavre exquis,' derived from a phrase that came up when they first played: 'le cadavre exquis boira le vin nouveau' ('the exquisite corpse will drink the new wine'). Basically each collaborator adds to a composition in sequence, either by following a rule or by being allowed to see only the end of what the previous person contributed. During the plague years of the early 21st Century, the Mekons adopted this method as a means of collectively assembling lyrics and tunes and recording their new albums. Scattered in various locations from the West Coast of California to the East End of London, they sang and played into their mobile phones and emailed, uploaded and messaged their wailings, beatings, scratchings and strummings around the globe through the billions of interconnected nodes of our networked panopticon. Mike Hagler assembles the results in Chicago and sends them to be mixed by The Baron at Chateau Trumfio. While the world goes hyper-speed to NetNever avidly acting out the crazy jags of meltdown capitalism electrified dancing corpses and waves of virus plunge into burning oil seas of ancient systemic racism ravaging and squawking out of this nightmare sleep of reason, come chlorinated chickens home to roost in nests of hypocrisy, impunity and conspiracy. We put on our goggles and look to the Madderworse, scanning our eyes towards the acid horizon of annihilation, take virtual joy if you can. And, well, you just might be tired from having to take to the streets: what better time to settle down with a fancy cocktail of medical drugs and dig the Mekons' new surrealist sounds..." --Colin Stewart, Bridlington