Growing Bin Vinyl, CD & Tape 17 Items

Following a fallow 2023, a rejuvenated Growing Bin return to your turntable with this sublime collaborative LP from Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova. On their first foray into the physical, the duo expand the spectral ambience and medicated breaks of their earlier work with lithe touches of organic jazz and Cafe Del Mar cool, creating a complex assemblage of dreamy downbeat and emotive electronica that's entirely easy on the ears.

Opener "Pozhaluysta" seduces with smart syncopation and beguiling melody, its flute and fretwork finding ample space to slip around Natasha's voice, equal parts Cocteau operatics and jazz-club coquette, in an expression of a want beyond words. The mood shifting "Osvobodi Menia" sees the solemn, snaking sound of a sampled duduk drift into an optimism of airy pads and escapist mantra, suspended in reverb until the end of time. "Ya Tebia Zhdala" began life as a break-led experiment, gradually evolving into a romantic and naive sketch rich with splashes of piano and dynamic chorus pads. Naturalist hymn "O Dereve" weaves a dark and intimate tale from the point of view of a veteran tree as its buzzsaw guitar loops blossom into multilayered vocals full of emotion.

Awash with sonar sweeps, sumptuous pads and rolling subs, the titular "Imena Rek" channels post-rave bliss into the hypnagogic anthem the contemporary IDM-ographic have been searching for. Infectious hooks and spaced out pads ride the breakbeat rhythm for a dreamy experimental pop banger from another planet. The sombre sway of "Rany", filtered through the fog of a broken cassette recorder, trance djembe and unpredictable bass tones rivals the finest Motion Ward or In:dex releases for crepuscular charm, while "Smeshno" sees serrated drones sink into a slinking rhythm, playing counterpoint to the tender chords and yearning vocals.

"Iskra" closes out the chiasmus with a return to the organic experience of the opener, the flute and acoustic guitar augmented with nuanced hand percussion and a music box refrain. Listening to this album is like a midnight walk through an ancient forest - an experience which both scares and tempts you at the same time. From touching damp moss to feeling the thick fog with your body and watching mushrooms glow in the dark, 'Imena Rek' guides you through the terrain.

Flawlessly arranged and executed, this LP alludes to a long lineage of innovative downbeat, feels absolutely essential in the present and pushes the trip hop revivalists towards a fascinating future - Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova have created a timeless piece of music,
but what else do you expect from the Bin?

A1 Pozhaluysta B1 Imena Rek
A2 Osvobodi Menia B2 Rany
A3 Ya Tebia Zhdala B3 Smeshno
A4 O Dereve B4 Iskra

Music by Gosha Martynov & Natasha Sinyakova
Mastered by Sergey Luginin @ Luginin Studio in Moscow
Distributed by wordandsound from Hamburg
Sales notes by Patrick Ryder

The Person is back on the dancefloor and she brought the delicious Australian version of a good old Italian recipe - Italoz Disco. Mouthwatering rhythms spiced with everyday hustle, cosmic boogie and the extra dose of synthesizer! Changing the Meatballs for Oddballs to worship the Magic $ properly. Sull' alto lato (aka on the B-Side) we're changing the Oddballs for the Mothballs as the one and only Hysteric warms up the magic ragout in his unique steam-powered kitchen. Now go to work!

You still need to be convinced? Take these great lines by Patrick: "Magic $" beams into the discotheque direct from deep space; a shimmering body of squelching bass, nebulous pads and snapping percussion which hosts Minna's bewitching vocals. The arch delivery and vintage sequences flirt with kitsch, but that playful genius particular to The Person pushes this into wonderfully wonkier territories. Basslines climb, keys collapse and the whole thing chugs and bubbles through a flawless arrangement. We thought they didn't make them like this anymore, but we were wrong. Stepping in on remix duty, renowned (Moth)baller Hysteric turns out a treatment that's worth a million bucks, boosting the bottom end with an acidic sequence, supercharging the percussion and punching in some strange sampler fun to guarantee utter club chaos. Every superhero needs a theme song, and "The Person" sees Minna step away from the dancefloor to deliver a synthetic ballad for lucid dreamers everywhere. Jamming on top of a malfunctioning Jomox, Minna channels chimes, piano and a gentle chug into the classiest chord progression this side of Mike Francis. Closing cut "Go To Work" gives us neon lights and nighthawks as The Person indulges in a little Antipodean electro, proving once and for all that Australians Do It Better.

Fresh and zesty with subtle tropical flavours, this is a delightfully listenable debut from Matthieu Beck on Growing Bin. Inspired by the lilting rhythms, jazzy instrumentation and slow listening gems found on his Love In The Afternoon radio show, the Frenchman has crafted a gorgeous collection of laid back sophisti-pop, perfect for long summer days or seasonally affected escapism. Any suggestion of sorrow in the album title is actually a mislead - this may be a solo LP, but Matthieu's surrounded himself with the musical friends he's made over the years, serving as composer and bandleader to a willing troop of collaborators. Longtime friend and former Metronomy bassist Gabriel Stebbing, Source Ensemble drummer Emmanuel Mario, and of course Laetitia Sadier herself, stepped in to lend their services and bring Matthieu's music to life, before Jérôme Caron (Blackjoy) expertly mixed it all down. Though the tracklist may read like a travelogue, these nine tracks all began at home with Matthieu sat behind a Fender Rhodes with a drum machine by his side. Soon live bass, saxophone and flute strolled into his unhurried arrangements, retaining the simplicity of his demos while expanding the emotion. Weighty synth drones and bubbling bass balance the airy elements of tracks like "California" or the dream-pop romance of "Rooftop Rome", while the mellow "Malika" and joyful "Retour De Plage" showcase the Frenchman's relationship with jazz. Elsewhere there's hints of digi-dub ("Island" and "Suede"), coastal boogie ("Tokyo Montana"), stripped back city pop ("California") and downtown nostalgia ("Dora"), before Beck arrives at the poetic, progressive but peaceful finale "Piano Fin", which recalls Air at their prettiest, without stepping outside Matthieu's well defined sound.

Tribal electronics, dubby downbeat, sedated house and disoriented breaks coming from Molto Brutto's Andreas Kunzmann. Following on from his essential reissue of II aka Molto Brutto's feverish and freaky second LP, Basso fires up the Growing Bin lathe for a further foray into AK's eccentric catalogue. Recorded between 1998-2005 and unreleased until now, these genre-fluid tracks retain the unorthodox charm central to the Austrian's art. Sometimes dancing is just falling to music, and Andreas lives the life unbalanced.

Equal parts Sheffield bleep, fractal IDM and interstellar ambience, Hyper Nu Age Tekno sees Taro Nohara (aka Yakenohara) plotting a star map on a faded rave flyer. Let the billionaires blast into orbit while you explore your inner space with Growing Bin. From the LP's earliest moments, the whomping subs and crystalline chimes of "Space Debris", it's clear that we're a long way from Hamburg. Taro pilots this craft on a deep space exploration way beyond the run out groove, to a place where heartening chords herald a twin sunrise and any broadcasts are lost in translation. The polyrhythmic pulse of "Ill Ell" follows, its concentric chimes and rapid fire kicks summoning the teknoguild to a watery altar in the engineering department. Sticking with interstellar mysticism but taking a turn for the transcendent, "Baker Baker Paradox" spins Reich-ian repetition into a graphene gossamer embellished with chrome, crystal and shoegaze shimmer. The B-side begins on the observation deck, bathing in the beauty of "Celestial Harmonia"'s sci-fi exotica, before the entheogenic "Use Your Head" prompts a delirious dash to the holodeck. Laying serene pads over a techy 4/4, Taro turns out the most danceable and dreamy track on the LP. As ambient chords ring out into the aether and rhythmic pulses shift out of phase, "Airplane Without People" is the loading screen for your virtual fantasy, soon rendered through the woody percussion and spheric bass of "Music For Psychic Liberation". Leave your body behind as you pick mushrooms in a CGI forest.

Let’s face it, no one really knows where they’re going, so the best we can do is enjoy the ride - a sentiment captured perfectly by the high altitude ambient of ‘Flights’, Double Geography’s new release on the Growing Bin. Embracing the unpredictable, Duncan Thornley married melodic fragments with semi-generative computer process and random filter interactions, an aleatory approach to music therapy during the existential funk of the first Lockdown. The unhurried melodies, weightless within plumes of reverb and delay, conjure the feeling of long distance air travel with All Nippon - that pensive delirium stimulated by varying air pressure, broken sleep and the most welcome pause in your everyday life. Remote snippets of news reports, street noise and conversation, plundered from cassette dictaphone and a Spanish language tape the artist found in the loft sit low in the mix, the barely audible sound of the pilot and passenger, extras in your everyday experience. Contemplative and comforting, ‘Flights’ is a gentle reminder to be present, delivered with a rare beauty.

Basking in the golden glow of an Indian Summer, Basso brings us a much needed reissue of one of his most treasured musical discoveries, Guy Maxwell’s ‘Outside My Window’. A long time favourite in the Growing Bin, this mellow masterpiece originally crept out in 1980 with no backing from its label, the soon to burst Bubble. Now resequenced and redressed to the exacting standards of Mssr. Maxwell, ‘Outside My Window’ is ready to warm the hearts and cheer the ears of a whole new audience. Born in Bordeaux under a wandering star, Guy spent the 70s on the road, freewheelin’ from Paris to Rome, guitar in tow, before settling in Switzerland at the end of the decade.

October 10, 2021 Keeping his carbon footprint at a minimum, Santilli sails from Sydney to Hamburg via ten textured vignettes delicately drawn with guitar, bass and organic percussion. Relaxing, reflective and endlessly beautiful, ‘Tidal’ explores elemental inspiration through a humanistic gaze. Whether you know Max Santilli through Ken Oath duo Angophora, previous releases ‘Surface’ and ‘In Circles’, or this is your first time making his acquaintance, you’ll agree he’s right at home on the Growing Bin. The multi-instrumentalist crafts exquisite acoustic music in tune with the finer moments of Windham Hill and ECM; a perfect fusion of talent, balance and the emotion shared by each release on the Hamburg label. As befits its inspiration ‘Tidal’ is an organic affair, related through bright acoustic guitar, hazy chimes and hand played percussion. Where the Australian draws you in with hypnotic repetition, the subtlety, warmth and tonal variation serve as a welcome reminder we’re living off grid. Though expert fretwork often takes centre stage, especially on the delicate B1 ‘Warm You Give’, it’s the blend of kalimba, woodblock, hand drums and shaker which truly transport the listener through open waters; a rhythmic breeze carrying us through the maritime drones and bowed squall. At times the salt air is spiced with cardamom and cloves (’Sea’) or lemongrass and galangal (’Valleys’), as we skirt the Indian Ocean or the Java Sea. ‘Lapse’ provides subtle hints of fourth world jazz as mallets take the lead, leaving the guitar to provide its own shimmering texture. Clear your mind, clear your schedule and make some time for ‘Tidal’, an opportunity to breathe in time with the planet.

If Shelter swam through the serene side of the Library experience on Gbr016, CV Vision blasts off in the opposite direction, riding an explosion of funk breaks and frazzled synths into the event horizon on his retro-futurist opus ‘Insolita’. As contemporary life accelerates way past peak-weird, CV Vision leans into uncertainty and leaves Earth in the rear-view. Strung out on Simulacron-3, World On A Wire and Omaggio Ad Einstein, the Berlin-based musician imagines his own Brave New World, an alternate eXistenZ in a secret simulation. Using the space age obsession of the Italian libraries as a launch pad, Dennis Schulze slathers a sonic storyboard with ferocious percussion, psychedelic fuzz and the pastoral electronics of Germany’s Kosmische movement. But this is less Can, more uncanny - and Schulze perfectly renders the cognitive estrangement of a simulated reality through his adventurous production. The monolithic live drums, recorded in a Neukölln garage on a battered Soviet kit are smeared with tape hiss, compressed to death and fired through LFOs, re-materialising on record in impossible scale. Time slips out of joint under the wow and flutter of the reel to reel, drum computers add digital interference to organic rhythms and the unfaltering slew of the 303 lends the hallucinatory thrill of the club sound system to an already psychedelic affair. As Schulze’s imagination runs free, we’re taken through epic space battles and narrow escapes, moments of reflection and affection and a final resolution, all expressed through a dexterous control of movement and mood. For every explosion of break-fuelled adrenaline, there’s a cruise into cryo-chamber music and holodeck exotica. For each neck-snapping blast of acid funk, there’s a zero gravity lullaby waiting just around the corner. So put isolation on ice and surrender to the strange, this is a trip you don’t want to end.

Dancing On Waves Working his mellow magic on the Growing Bin, Sorcerer entertains your inner child with eight tracks of instrumental west coast pop suitable for dancing, dreaming and surfing a wave or two. While Basso sat in a Teutonic treehouse, feeding his head with the sounds of the woodland, Dan Judd danced on the sands of San Francisco’s Baker Beach. Stretching between them, like the world’s longest tin can radio, was the Dream Chimney. This legendary forum, run by Ryan Bishop, better known as The Beat Broker, helped to launch a thousand labels, and the Growing Bin is one of them - all hail the Chim! Here, Dan, naturally mystic in his Sorcerer guise, satisfies all our sensory needs with a Kinder Surprise of sweet melodies, coastal cool and playful rhythms inspired by his children’s earliest responses to music. Following his feelings and avoiding overthinking, he creates open, enticing and accessible cuts; each living and breathing that mellow magic you only get on the West Coast.

After a year of enforced isolation, we’ve all become experts at introspection. After all if the outlook is grim, why not look inwards instead? Just don’t be surprised when all that naval gazing gives you a bellyache. Luckily, Cass. is back on the Growing Bin with the beguiling beauty of ‘Ambient Music For A Young Girl’, a soothing set which demands your full attention. In the era of deserted dance floors, when the house and techno crowd export uninspired ambient to keep the streams flowing, Cass. offers an alternative approach to slow listening straight from the heart. Niklas came to Basso with a wealth of sensuous sounds to curate for a new LP, and these six expressionistic vignettes sit together like paintings at an exhibition. All born from the same brush but varied in tone, texture, mood and approach, they achieve an immersive effect without ever fading into the background. Sonic synonyms of Rothko, Turrell and Kapoor, each imbued with hidden depth, each utterly compelling, each conveying a profound calm. Escape your ego with some foreground music.

Growing Bin switches back into reissue mode with an off-kilter obscurity from Austrian eccentrics Molto Brutto. Equal parts amateur funk, indie jangle, art rock and idiot pop, “2″ is a real weird bastard with a whole lot of charm. As the Bin continues to grow in all directions, there’s plenty of space for new sounds to take root. Alongside patches of Ambient, Balearic, Kosmische and Jazz, Hamburg’s audio allotment now stretches to accommodate the strange waves of Molto Brutto. Basso dug their first LP a decade back in Stuttgart’s Second Hand Records, embracing their abrasive style of sandpaper sonics and experimental urges. Interest piqued, he made the journey through their DIY catalogue, capturing excellent collaborations under the Ganslinger alias before bumping into the second of their two LPs. Originally released on their Golfdish imprint in 1988, “2″ walks into the pub with an air of accessibility, but quickly unravels into glorious chaos - pissing in the corner and passing out on the bar. Pop structures are suggested then subverted. Pints of Paisley slosh out of a broken Glass, tape loops spool onto shabby Material, and indie janglers are just a couple of stamps short of a Postcard. Turning you tipsy, this loveable rogue starts to tell you his life story, but you’re going to have to fill in some blanks. They miss ‘Blackie’, but who is he - a dog? What happened on the ‘Deadly Vacation’? Is that song really about a ‘Goldfish’, or did they find out the name of America’s horse? Words repeat until they lose all meaning, awkward poetry masks a lost laureate and a drunken Wurlitzer sends the room into a spin. The pubs are shut, so get happy drunk with Molto Brutto.

Digging deep through old and new, Basso captures arcane woodland fusion, serene electronic suites and wide eyed Balearic bliss on this first Growing Bin compilation. This collection celebrates those precious records which land in your life on their own terms. Even the most advanced digger will admit that chance is the secret ingredient in any successful haul.

Growing Bin say sayonara to summer with these bittersweet Balearic gems from Japan’s Nuback. Emotional pop and daydream dub to make you feel younger than yesterday.

2022 repress

Acid bass, slow funk and cosmic energy make for a mind expanding trip in the Liquid Canoe.
Load up on edibles, make it a macro-dose and let the music lead the way.
Whether you’re hard at work on a Hamburg allotment, basking in the heat of a Balinese beach or enjoying the cool waters of the Salish Sea, remember that the same sky stretches over all of us.
And if you forget your finger for a minute and soak in the heavenly beauty instead, you might just catch the cosmic vibrations of Liquid Canoe, the latest members of the Growing Bin family.
A loose ensemble, Liquid Canoe is the brainchild of Wolfgang Matthes, a lost Angelino who’s swapped the rush and push of a mega city for the space of the Pacific Northwest - and listening to this eight track offering, you’ll realise that space is the place. Armed with an array of vintage synths and programmed rhythms, Wolfgang sketched out a slew of inter dimensional transmissions, inspired by the commune electronics and space rock of 70s Germany and inhabited by the spirit of the boogie. Inviting friends to drop by and lend their own instrumental skill, Wolfgang quickly turned Liquid Canoe into a true collaboration. Finalised in a converted stable on Galiano Island, the LP is a perfect marriage of the electronic and organic, shimmering arps and spheric synth bass intertwined with American primitive guitar, nuanced hand percussion and glassy chimes. As this mind expanding collection stretches out towards infinity, you’ll hear Floyd-ian funk, cosmic dub, tangerine daydreams and micro-dosed ambience, all imbued with the memories of New York lofts, Bay Area warehouses, skyscraping pines or the world wide web of fungi. Liquid Canoe taking you on an oarsome trip.

2022 repress

Free your mind and float away, you’re now entering the mode of the Growing Bin. Hamburg’s centre for audio enlightenment is back with another sublime sensory experience, this time from the land of the rising sun.
Keen to get another stamp on his passport, Basso reached out to Japanese duo Singu, two open minded cats who just love to jam. Marrying Kiyo’s free drumming with Keta Ra’s melodic mastery of keyboard and guitar, the two-piece fuse free jazz, post-rock, kosmische and ambient into immersive and esoteric improvisations. Free from any compositional concerns, the Hiroshima outfit trade in energy, emotion and expression.
The frenetic percussion and ephemeral melodies of opener ‘Aurora Gate’ instantly transport you to the breathless churn of a Tokyo crossroads, where thousands of people rush by but you stand still in the eye of the storm. Though they may be explosive, the drums sit back in the mix, offering a soft intensity behind the shimmering wall of melody. A nimble and nuanced affair, ‘Bop’ brings rapid fire rhythm, slick syncopation and hypnotic piano refrains. Cool bass rolls along like KDJ’s ‘Rectify’, as Singu update the acid jazz template like Toshio Matsuura covering Carl Craig. Singu journey from far out to Furthur on Aside closer ‘Nagebu’, strapping in for psychedelic synth wig out which is heavy on the resonance and free on the filter.
Blooming out of the darkness on the B1, Basso favourite ‘Fazaria’ soothes and moves you with its twinkling keys, nebulous wave forms and delicate guitar, leaving you wide eyed in wonder as the drum fills burst like fireworks across a star-filled sky. ‘828’ sweeps into abstraction as Kiyo and Keta Ra combine snapping glitches and aquatic electronics with fractal guitar tones and woozy bass, pushing through a portal to see what’s beyond. An a-grade wall melter, this trip makes great use of tension as the crisp machine drums stand in sharp contrast to the whirring, blurring guitars. Finally ’44’ carries you home on a downbeat drift, a flawless fusion of buzzing electronics, misty pads and relentless percussion played with perfect poise. Turn on, tune in and trip out, Singu bring you music from the moment that you’ll love for a lifetime.