Okraïna HHV Records 8 Items

After a near decade of solo and collaborative projects, Up in Air is Ben Pritchard's most confident foray into songwriting yet, nestling lopsided experimentation into a bed of lowslung blues and reflective folk.

Up in Air is sewn from threads of everyday life: trails of thought, small stories and conversations with his daughter. Collecting, layering and condensing the world around him, his musings spill out in a palimpsest that renders both the material and metaphysical world. From describing a time where he inadvertently found himself on a hunting trip, recalling stories from doing role play and drawing together with his daughter, or scribing observations on the strange dedications people make in their lives, he explores the banal and the fantastical; the whimsical and the serious; the light and dark. Each line, aphorism or vignette carries with it weight that is looking to free itself, to embrace the impossibility of life distilled into simpler parameters.

Ben's music acts as a motor for his words, weaving wistful melodic mantras and creaking guitar lines in and out as each song finds its feet. Although the album finds a rich array of influences dancing in an awkward balance, the emotive register of the music drinks from the fountain of the US rock continuum, with Supreme Dicks' uneasy indie, Low's slow unfurling grace and Neil Youngs' heart-worn drawl lifting each song to new heights. Expanding on this soundworld are collaborators Sholto Dobie (self-built organs) and bassist Otto Willberg, who provide drones, dissonant jolts and detuned paths for the music to open itself, but also curl into its own. Sounds are folded into one another, birthing new shapes, layers and sonic possibilities.

Ben describes the album as "permeated by the sense that came from being around this sort of connection to the world where everything is immediate and fundamental." The album is representative of this shift inwards: on his own, socially, as a parent. But with that it also represents a confidence to deal with everything. The album is an excavation, both finding strange joy in simple findings and an unburdening himself of everything else, letting every thought and feeling whisks itself away up in the air.'

Fielding Hope (curator, Cafe Oto, London)

Two mavericks, out on the weekend, trying to make it pay...

"Maverick was the word that came to mind when I listened to this music. A slightly wayward independence of spirit and outlook. The word originally referred to an unbranded male calf that had become separated from the herd (because Texan rancher Sam Maverick was so negligent in his branding - ‘if it ain’t branded, it’s a Maverick’). But Sam’s grandson Maury Maverick gave it a different twist in his short but stormy Congressional career as the only liberal member of the Southern Democratic caucus. Maury was so out of step with his own folks that he not only voted in 1937 to make lynching a federal crime, he even addressed the House to condemn the practice as barbaric. His attempt to ban racist mob murder sadly failed, but it’s that refusal to march in step which distinguishes the two ‘mavericks’ who made this record.

Who would attempt to combine cunning ethnological forgery, Scottish folk songs, claw-hammer guitar, untutored horn-tootling, elastically relaxed drumming and garage electronic fuckery? Only Greg and Stefan, high on sea, sunshine and mis-judged micro-dosing – that’s who. ‘Don’t drown’ was offered as practical advice during the self-described ‘Yellow Submarine’ phase of making this record. And while they managed to avoid literally doing so (phew), they sound here like they got pretty ‘deep in’ to an Octopus’s sound world all their own. This surprisingly clear analogue recording has just enough Bikini Bottom grit to ensure traction. The tunes are inviting, and the sonic disruptions are too good-natured and goofy to upset even the most delicate digestion.

The sessions have had a couple of years to marinate, courtesy of some pandemic, and are here offered in that most Archducal of vinyl formats, the double ten inch. What are you waiting for, a side of Crabby Patties? Get your water-wings and dive in (unless you’re tripping)!" - Bruce Russell (The Dead C)

Pumice is the long-running, endlessly inventive project of New Zealand native Stefan Neville (1974), whose shambolic music is equally reminiscent of Kiwi pop groups such as The Clean and Tall Dwarfs as well as the country's experimental noise-rock bands like the Dead C. Largely recorded solo by himself on junky equipment, his songs typically feature blown-out guitars, wheezing chord organs, and vocals disguised by tape hiss and static.

Greg Malcolm (1965) is a guitarist from New Zealand who has played everywhere on the globe and with all most everyone, including Rosy Parlane, Toshimaru Nakamura, Tetuzi Akiyama and Bruce Russell, as well as solo releases on his own label, Corpus Hermeticum, Kraak and Celebrate Psi Phenomenon.

It begins with a shoebox of mysterious provenance, full of recordings from the Vendée department on France’s western seaboard: songs of love and war, life and death, played out on land and sea. Songs passed down and sung by ordinary men and women, gracefully delivered with the poetic economy which unites the folk song of all peoples.

Next it takes a group of contemporary musicians to make selections from this treasure trove and sing these old songs anew; to sing them for their beauty, of course, and to reclaim the people’s tradition from those who would seek to exploit it for nefarious political ends. Who better for this task than Tartine de Clous, a singing trio from Vendée’s neighbouring department of Charente-Maritime, who burst into national and international consciousness with their debut album "Sans Folklore" in 2015? The result of their shoebox rummagings, the new album "Compter les dents", recorded in 2019 and finally seeing the light of day, is bound to delight old fans and win them many new ones.

Time makes many’s the alteration, and "Compter les dents" finds 'les garçons' - Geoffroy Dudouit, Thomas Georget and Guillaume Maupin - in a different state of being from their debut release. The trio, friends since youth, have certainly matured between albums, as one would expect; consequently the newer performances are more considered and poised, unfolding with a patient confidence. A relaxed domesticity prevails, something to do with the fact that the album was entirely recorded chez les amis, in contrast to the first album, which was mostly recorded at live performances in bars and night-spots across France.

Lending gravitas to the grain of their voices we mark a deepened richness, doubtless born of the various vicissitudes of daily existence which these gentlemen - and we too as citizens of this turmoiled globe - have weathered in the intervening years. Not too dissimilar, in fact, from some of the vicissitudes detailed in those old Vendée songs. Plus 'ça change', right?

There’s a greater complexity and subtlety to their unique three-part harmonising, too. Their voices mesh in even stronger - almost telepathic - 'fraternité' than ever before: now commanding and mighty as a full-rigged counter-vessel, now gentle and lulling as a mother’s cradle-croon, or as the whisper in a lover’s ear.

Three legendary figures of French traditional music, now sadly departed, preside as tutelary spirits over Compter les dents. They are: the late Claude Flagel, musician and ethnomusicologist; and the late Jean-Loup Baly of the well-known 1970s band Mélusine. Most of the album was recorded by Claude in the Brussels home he shared with his late wife Lou Flagel. The album is dedicated to the memory of Jean-Loup, Claude and Lou.

For the first time there are several guest instrumentalists working their magic to expand the Tartine de Clous sound. Jean-Loup plays a characterful accordéon on the song ‘La Veuve'. The other guests are: Maurice Artus (voice), Robert Thébaut (violin), Quentin Manfroy (piccolo, contrabassoon), Marceau Portron (cigar box guitar). Their contributions add even more conviviality to that which the trio of singers already share, a sensation which will doubtless be shared by those who happen to find a place in their lives for "Compter les dents".'

Liner notes by Alasdair Roberts.

“This recording is not a "best of", it is a reflection of Tori Kudo's evolution as a composer, from playing with seasoned musicians, to playing with people just starting out, from playing with meticulous scores, to playing call & response melodies written down, to the songs here on "Je est un Autre": instant improvisations based on keyboard compositions that Tori plays for the group. Yes, that is it. He plays a recording of himself on the keyboard, with singing or humming sometimes and he leaves it to the "big band" to interpret this on the spot. Sometimes, you can make out the melody, other times it is quite obscure, as if a sort of common shyness flows out of the collected instrumentarium.

And other times, well, it is a big party.

Mr Kudo and the group were invited to tour Europe to celebrate 20 years of the project Le Ton Mité, members of which are absorbed into the ensemble. The recording evolves from the static sound of hermetic conditions to the live concert in the later tracks. The studio here, is a trendy concert hall in Brussels Les Ateliers Claus. You hear the applause of the brave ears that weathered the ride of accidental psychedelia & moiré of various notes fading into and out of each other. This is only a sliver of the material from the 20 hour recording marathon documenting the new composing/playing style of Mr Kudo & snippets from the last concert of the March 2018 tour. Perhaps the album should be called "Je est un autre : Volume 1" in a vague reference to "My Brother The Wind" series from Sun Ra. In any case, here you have four sides of ten inch vinyl to take you on a journey into Maher: Je est un autre…”

Seven songs by Rully Shabara and Wukir Suryadi, rootsily mystical and vividly al fresco, spiralling from peripheral sites beside rubbish dumps and rice fields, into a busy market at the heart of Yogyakarta, from dawn till dusk.