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Ingredient is the elegant collaboration of Toronto poets, composers, producers and dear friends Ian Daniel Kehoe and Luka Kuplowsky. Their self-titled release is an enigmatic electronic avant-pop record attuned to the micro and macro perspectives of the natural world. Ingredient is an album whose lyrics are more poem than lyric, and whose songs exist in a merger of house music, philosophically-minded lyricism and contemporary R&B. One might recall electronic and art-pop luminaries such as Yukihiro Takahashi, The Blue Nile, and Arthur Russell, or connect it to contemporaries like Nite Jewel, Westerman and Blood Orange. A distinct world of dance, of questions, of secrecy and ultimate softness.

Eight years of friendship forges strange telepathy.

In the summer of 2020, Ian Daniel Kehoe was entrenched in a new feeling of heaviness; psychosomatic symptoms had started to proliferate; stress made new pores across the body, bending sensitivity into pain. His days were met with confusion, detachment, sleeplessness and pain without causation. Disfigured, he felt that what had been central and centering was blown out to the periphery of things. In a moment of self-preservation he reached out to his dear friend Luka Kuplowsky to make an album together. For Kehoe, it was an instinctual grasp for the anchoring truthfulness of deep friendship and the potential for a dedicated creative collaboration. Kuplowsky’s presence was light, supportful and curious, eager to explore musically the sounds they were mutually drawn to: house music, ambient pop, dub. The duality between Kuplowsky and Kehoe – between the Aflight and the Unmoored – is a portrait of a friendship whose exchanges came easy and produced an outpouring of song. Creation and therapy crisscross. In email correspondence that catalogs their process of collaboration, affection abounds: “feels bare without the Luka Licks”, or “Love you so much”, or “Kinda just overwhelmed with deadliness coming in at all angles.” When their voices first come in together on “Wolf,” that harmony arrives in a dramatic avant-pop sound that is bold and wondrous.

Kuplowsky and Kehoe both arrive at Ingredient as established artists whose works are committed to language’s propensity to provoke and mystify. Kuplowsky’s 2020 album Stardust is an idiosyncratic and otherworldly blend of pop and jazz romanticism grounded by Cohen-esque vocals and a stirring philosophical curiosity. Kehoe’s entrance into the new decade has hatched four records of pop experimentation, most recently 2022’s Yes Very So, a euphoric and bold album of poetic synth-pop and meditative ambient instrumentals. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s union as Ingredient is a beautiful and unusual chemistry that integrates their distinct approaches while bringing forth a newness: a sound that alternates between cinematic technicolor and dubbed out fogginess; a lyricism that exchanges their lucid and clear poetics for a playful and obtuse verse. The album intuitively taps into the opposing emotional states of Kuplowsky and Kehoe during the conception of the record, contrasting the buoyancy of trumpeting keyboards (“Resurface”), angelic synthesized voices (“Come”), and rolling bass (“Photo”) with the record’s underlying darkness of whirring buzzsaw textures (“Transmission”), whooping sirens (“Wolf”) and murky ambience (“Illumination”). Lyrically, this duality arises in the record’s flux between openness (“Variation”, “Raindrop”) and existential dread (“Wolf”). “Illumination” most clearly crystalizes this opposition, reconciling the verses’ neurotic yearning for enlightenment with the chorus’ liberating doctrine of negation: “no more devotion… no more delusion”. Amidst the gradations of light and dark, Kuplowsky and Kehoe trade indelible, lush melodies as though their voices are made of a substance that melts easily one into the other. The harmony of poetry, sound, and texture cuts through your brain fog like a wet diamond.

Ingredient’s self-titled record was assembled by Kuplowsky and Kehoe over the course of six months in a home studio they frequented daily. Amidst synthesizers and drum machines they composed, re-composed, and workshopped a wide array of music, ultimately focusing on a set of eight songs that lived in a shared musical and philosophical world. Recording days often ended in basketball games at a local court or a rooftop commune over a pot of tulsi tea and a crossword puzzle. Kuplowsky brought in the Blue Cliff Record – the classic anthology of Chan Buddhism – whose inscrutable and sublime insights remained constant throughout the recording process as an activator of reorientation and reflection. While Kehoe was frequently rendered physically immobile by bouts of anxiety, a patience and mutual caring governed the pace of their creation; rest, stretching and meditation became equally important as the act of arrangement. Invited into their intimate circle of composition was Thom Gill, whose heavenly voice uplifts “Variation” and “Raindrop,” and Karen Ng, whose alto sax simmers and dances around the funky strut of “Raindrop.”

The lyrics on Ingredient reflect the persistence of change, the infinite variability of nature where randomness and divergence are no accidents. In Daoism, duality, in the form of Yin and Yang, is not contradictory as it is in Western idealist philosophy, but rather composes the eternal and lived paradox of our changeless-changing universe: changeless because all is change, and changing because the dynamism of the Dao makes each moment transformational. Kuplowsky and Kehoe refract this way of seeing the world, as in Variation: “Variation in the natural world / there it is.” Ingredient is an experience of the manifold ways of saying there it is of the transformational world, and there it is, unfolding. Elsewhere, change and ephemerality is addressed through the record’s preoccupation with non-human perspectives, reorienting the listener to the wolf, the mouse, the emerald frog, the centipede, the bird, the fly in the lamp. The album cover visualizes this fascination with the striking image of a reddish-orange frog atop a defamiliarized landscape of dark green leaves. Mirroring the exploratory process of the record’s collaboration, the frog also signals the amphibian’s natural inclination to leap into boundless potential. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s lyrics manifest philosopher and ecologist Timothy Morton’s concept of “the mesh,” drawing attention to the “vast, entangled web” of interconnectedness that connects all life forms and interweaving the songwriters’ shared wonder into the Animal’s unknowability. As Luka narrates in the breakdown of the dance-floor ready “Photo,” “the closer we observe things, the further they retreat into abstraction.” In Ingredient’s ecosystem, perception is a reversible fractal where the world’s minutest details mirror the shape of the cosmos.

According to the Dao, the path to healing starts by reorienting perception away from the self and toward the self’s subsumption in Totality. For Kehoe, collaborating with Kuplowsky became the reorientation necessary for the self-preservation he was seeking, opening up a shared creative practice to navigate and soften the complexity of his psychological shattering. The album begins with Kuplowsky intoning “colossal faith” which bounces around the stereo field in a cloud of echo, and it is the enormity of “faith” that centers both Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s collaboration and their inquisitiveness in the vast mysteries of our very being. Truth in Ingredient is not an essential nugget, but a bending of the light – it is the equivocal entanglement of how we are in nature as nature, but with a plea or prayer under our breath that marks our felt distance from what we are a part of: “carry me towards the mountains of my birth / returning to the nest / the silence of the earth.”

After the promising, Norwegian Grammy-nominated debut Puzzler (2016), and the more ambitious follow-up Mjusic (2018), it would've been easy for Hilma Nikolaisen (formerly of Serena Maneesh) to continue in the same vein. After all she's perfected her own kind of groovy guitar rock built on catchy riffs and jammy psychedelic excursions. Instead, Heritage represents a surprising step to the side.

Japanese free improvising duo MAI MAO. Consisting of Shizuo Uchida of Hasegawa-Shizuo, Albedo Gravitas, Archeus, Kito Muzukumi Rouber, Terror Shit, UH, etc. on bass, and Kyosuke Terada, of HUH (who have their own release due on An’archives soon), Terror Shit, Bay City Rolaz, Praymate, The Obey Unit, etc. on guitar, they’ve previously released two wild cassettes, Curvature Improvement Plan (Haang Niap, 2020) and Folk Dope Rally (2021), both documenting one-take improvisations from live gigs. Ricshari was recorded by Nobuki Nishiyama in January 2021, and is proof, if any was needed, that this duo is one of the most fiercely unique, out-there units currently extant – in Japan, or anywhere, for that matter.

The music of MAI MAO seems to proceed by opposites and juxtaposition, shifting from frantic, hectic runs of splattering note spray to moments of granular stasis, where Uchida and Terada coax their instruments into and out of deep wells of silence, or rest, temporarily, in a lagoon of fermenting fuzz. Spiralling kinetics are largely the order of the day, though – the opener, “Chew a flying flash prayer”, skitters here and there, guitar and bass jumping over one another in games of leapfrog and Twister, finding new ways to perplex and puzzle the listener, and perhaps each other in the process, Uchida and Terada fully committed to the short-circuiting spirit of the moment.

The energy here is hyperactive, but it also speaks of a curious and committed attention to improvisatory responsiveness, one that’s just as likely to fork off into different directions in a split second – it’s real edge-of-the-seat stuff, as though the hands are moving too fast for the mind to follow. That’s all the better, then, to let the gush of genuinely free-thinking, devoted duo improvisation to fly at its most playful and intelligent. File next to the likes of Davey Williams & LaDonna Smith and their TransMuseq companions, or the wickedly perplexing bass-synth/trombone duets of Dave Dove Paul Duo, and you’ve some idea of what’s going on here, provisionally at least, ‘cos this one’s an enthralling, yet welcoming, head-scratcher of the highest calibre

Since his debut album "Transsiberian", Thylacine has developed a taste for composing through travel, an initiatory project that led him to compose during his journey on the Trans-Siberian Railway. A seminal album that allowed the young electro prodigy to make a name for himself on the electronic scene. With the aim to combine music and image and to make us discover his world through travel, Thylacine has continued to climb the ladder and has racked up no less than 121 million streams. Whether it's "Anatolia", "Olatu", or "War Dance", Thylacine has made a name for himself by writing real hits. Through "9 Pieces ", Thylacine wanted to pay tribute to some iconic tracks that are currently only released digitally and independently and to let us discover his new compositions, all of which are just as transporting and refreshing. His new opus "9 Pieces" will contain unreleased tracks from his latest travels and encounters, pieces to be assembled in order to reconstitute a puzzle and immerse oneself in the universe of Thylacine. Like this object, each musical piece will find its place alongside his greatest hits. "9 Pieces" will be released the 21st of October on Intuitive Records.

Rolando Simmons - a revered name in certain acidic circles - joins Utter for the 'Human Remains' EP, a wildly inventive 8-track adventure that deftly dabbles in rave, IDM, Techno and beyond in classic RS style. The project is the creative brainchild of Mattias Östling, who has been on a prolific production streak since the late 2000s, firstly under the name Trackermatte before settling into work under his current moniker.

This particular release is a missing puzzle-piece of sorts, compiled and sequenced by Utter's Alex Egan from a self-released digital collection titled 'Human Touch' which initially surfaced on Bandcamp during the producer's golden 2016 'Walk On Strawberries' and 'World Building' era.

'Human Touch' was a curious selection of unmastered oddities - the first Östling made using audio signal processing environment Cecilia5 - which remained largely overlooked due to its digital limbo. The tracklist itself shifted, with bonus tracks appearing then disappearing. While the excellent Dutch label 030303 cherry-picked the original version of the title track for a 2019 2xLP of the same name, the rest of the material remained frustratingly unavailable on vinyl and elsewhere, including the elusive bonus track which prompted Egan to reach out to Östling in the first place, the stunning 'sq1_mc4_iloveu03a_149unedit'.

That track is firmly at the core of this new EP, under its new title 'Nueva Traditional', as well as the alternative CV Beszállás edit of 'Human Touch'. They are surrounded by every other un-pilfered gem that originally appeared alongside them - however briefly - with all material freshly mastered and cut by Anne Taegert at D&M. The artwork and large fold-out poster (included with the 12") were designed by the Timpani Mystique Agency.

No stone left unturned!

Edrix pulses in the distant sky. Modal meditations, hypnotic bowed formations and detuned throbs of echo and bass reverberate from the ruins of Planet Battagon. A puzzle, a tremor detected in the stars buried deep in the decay of Neptunia retractracting at breaking speed. Edrix pulses in the distance…

Rising from the rubble of Planet Battagon’s cosmic collision of shimmering improvisation and bass-weight electronics, producer, multi/instrumentalist and veteran drummer, Nathan “Tugg” Curran (Basement Jaxx, Kano, Bryan Ferry) returns with London-based ensemble, Edrix Puzzle’s latest celestial disturbance, ‘Coming Of The Moon Dogs’, forthcoming on On the Corner, this October 2022.

P&F Recordings takes a quick break from original material to welcome back everyone’s favourite Episcopalian Minister/DJ: JAZ. When it comes to left-field floor fillers, JAZ (née John Zahl) is in a league of his own. Over the past 13 years, he's churned out celebrated home listening mixes, jaw-dropping DJ sets, and extended edits with a pace that belies the usual slow-motion tempo of the majority of his selections. Here, he serves up four colourful, cosmic, dance floor delights. EP opener ‘Cloud Worship’ marries a chugging prog-rock-esque bassline with virtuosic synth work. Then ‘Pick a Toy’ gets us sweating with some serious Caribbean flair. On the flip side, ‘Puzzle’ delivers exotic chants and an infectious, serpentine beat and lastly ‘Friday Night’ closes things out with infectious, retro positivity. While one might wonder how JAZ consistently unearths these obscure yet essential gems, it's obvious that he's driven by a higher purpose. Let the ceremonies begin!

Made in two versions - classic black and limited multicolor vinyl. Limitied Surprise Edition was pressed in 200 copies and has got an OBI.

After a six year hiatus Twardowski returns with his fourth album on U Know Me Records. The newest outing is a retrofuturistic trip to the author's two biggest influences: instrumental hip-hop and… video games. The new album eschews Twardowski's previous synth-heavy style in favor of multiple layers of chopped and mended together samples, topped off by cuts from U Know Me's own jazz guitarist/turntablist Żyńy. The album invokes video games with the track titles, the LP's title being a homage to coin-ops and via the overall sound: wonky, heavily shuffled, almost-out-of-sync rhythms sounding almost as if the tracks were done sampler in one hand gamepad in the other, over a lengthy, laid back gaming/sequencing session. Maybe if a gamepad was a sampler and instrumental hip-hop was a game, "One Coin Clear" could have been its soundtrack.

Made in two versions - classic black and limited multicolor vinyl. Limitied Surprise Edition was pressed in 200 copies and has got an OBI.

After a six year hiatus Twardowski returns with his fourth album on U Know Me Records. The newest outing is a retrofuturistic trip to the author's two biggest influences: instrumental hip-hop and… video games. The new album eschews Twardowski's previous synth-heavy style in favor of multiple layers of chopped and mended together samples, topped off by cuts from U Know Me's own jazz guitarist/turntablist Żyńy. The album invokes video games with the track titles, the LP's title being a homage to coin-ops and via the overall sound: wonky, heavily shuffled, almost-out-of-sync rhythms sounding almost as if the tracks were done sampler in one hand gamepad in the other, over a lengthy, laid back gaming/sequencing session. Maybe if a gamepad was a sampler and instrumental hip-hop was a game, "One Coin Clear" could have been its soundtrack.

Cherrystones returns with the second of the "Aged" EPs for Emotional Response. Time propels and so does sound, thus orbiting nuances and motion leads us here, to present whatever maybe or interpreted as. Since the acclaimed Aged Of Bronze EP a symbiotic progress of craft arrives in the aptly titled Aged Of Silver. Again each track is like a coded syntax, unlocking the puzzle to aid a listeners journey and experience, building blocks to a utopian scape in form without form notes and pictures living and residing in the dimensions. Never pandering to trends, his art based on immediacy and the moment, no disposable sub genres that fade as fast as they emerge, transposing and emitting heard and unheard a way to communicate with himself and those that identify. A capsule of touched emotions bearing gifts for those in the present and wishing to be present, a key with keys analogue for Silver Tongues and Brass monkeys living in the shadow of a Scorpian's Tail.

Big City - "Liquid Times".A Recurring Daydream on zero gasolinePixelating to exaltation on a big city night cantaloupe runs hard in the dungeoun then car home at 6am."Firestarter walk with me" you like saxophones I like the kinks a guitar virtuoso and a big bass bliss.5 songs 45 RPM.BIg City is the love child of guitar mastermind Katayoon Yousefbigloo (Puzzlehead, Hotline TNT) and underground dance instigatorDavey Biddle (Copyright Linda Fox).

The latest volumes in this much-loved, highly-acclaimed series presenting the music of the Windrush milieu: the post-war, London recordings of West Indians and West Africans, in the first wave of modern migration to Britain.

‘One of the delights of the age’ (Songlines).
’Superlative’ (Mojo); ’superlative’ (Independent); ’sensational’ (Observer).
‘Hugely evocative and poignant’ (Daily Telegraph); ’sheer joy from start to finish’ (Sunday Telegraph); ‘a witty and joyous testament’ (Guardian).
‘Impeccably curated and packaged’ (Wire).

***** Mojo, ***** Times, ***** Independent, ***** Daily Telegraph, ***** Evening Standard, ***** Metro.

Presented as a luxurious mini-book — all paper, no plastic — with suspended card sleeves for the discs. Forty pages of fabulous, previously-unseen photos and full notes, including a terrific, specially-commissioned essay by Kitch biographer Anthony Joseph.

"Art is awe, art is mystery expressed," writes Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. "Art is somatic, even if it is experienced cerebrally. It is felt." The central mysteries of Smith's ninth studio album, Let's Turn it Into Sound, have to do with perception, expression, and communication: How can we communicate when spoken language is inadequate? How do we understand what it is we're feeling? How do we translate our experience of the world into something that someone else can understand? For Smith, a self-described "feeler," the answers are inspired by compound words in non-English languages, translation, sculptural fashion, dance, butoh, wushu shaolin, and other forms of sensory and somatic experience. Just like fashion uses lines, shapes, colors, textures, and silhouettes to communicate on a sensual level separate from the conscious mind, Let's Turn it Into Sound strives to use sound to communicate what words alone cannot. "The album is a puzzle," Smith says. "[It] is a symbol of receiving a compound of a ton of feelings from going out into a situation, and the song titles are instructions to breaking apart the feelings and understanding them." The energized "Is it Me or is it You" comes from traversing the gaps between how you see yourself and how another might see you, through a filter of their own projections. The hushed sense of revelation that brackets "There is Something" refers to the feeling of walking into a room and being subconsciously aware of the dynamic present. All the while, Smith interprets these feelings through sound. This auditory interpretation process, driven by earnest curiosity, led Smith to record some thoughts and questions that popped up along the journey in Somatic Hearing_a booklet which accompanies the album. Over three frenzied months, recording alone in her home studio, Smith allowed herself to pursue new experiments to accompany her usual toolkit of modular, analogue, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral sounds, and the voice. She created a new vocal processing technique, and gave herself permission to pursue a pacing that felt intuitive, rather one that followed typical song structures. She walked around in the windiest season with a subwoofer backpack and an umbrella, listening to the low end of the album amidst 60mph gusts. She listened to herself, and, in doing so, to an inner community which suddenly opened to her. Underlying the album is a dynamic relationship between what Smith describes as six distinct voices, each a multifaceted storyteller. By acknowledging these characters, she was acknowledging her whole being: the woven plurality of self, the complex process of noticing and resolving inner conflicts, and the joy of finding harmony in flux. "I started to feel so embodied by all of these characters. This is all the felt, unsaid stuff [my inner community] wants to communicate but it doesn't have the English language as its form of communication, and so [this album was a form of] giving space to let it talk and not judge it and just let it play." By not adhering to expected song structures, each song feels even more like a conversation, with each character getting to express themselves in full.

"Art is awe, art is mystery expressed," writes Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. "Art is somatic, even if it is experienced cerebrally. It is felt." The central mysteries of Smith's ninth studio album, Let's Turn it Into Sound, have to do with perception, expression, and communication: How can we communicate when spoken language is inadequate? How do we understand what it is we're feeling? How do we translate our experience of the world into something that someone else can understand? For Smith, a self-described "feeler," the answers are inspired by compound words in non-English languages, translation, sculptural fashion, dance, butoh, wushu shaolin, and other forms of sensory and somatic experience. Just like fashion uses lines, shapes, colors, textures, and silhouettes to communicate on a sensual level separate from the conscious mind, Let's Turn it Into Sound strives to use sound to communicate what words alone cannot. "The album is a puzzle," Smith says. "[It] is a symbol of receiving a compound of a ton of feelings from going out into a situation, and the song titles are instructions to breaking apart the feelings and understanding them." The energized "Is it Me or is it You" comes from traversing the gaps between how you see yourself and how another might see you, through a filter of their own projections. The hushed sense of revelation that brackets "There is Something" refers to the feeling of walking into a room and being subconsciously aware of the dynamic present. All the while, Smith interprets these feelings through sound. This auditory interpretation process, driven by earnest curiosity, led Smith to record some thoughts and questions that popped up along the journey in Somatic Hearing_a booklet which accompanies the album. Over three frenzied months, recording alone in her home studio, Smith allowed herself to pursue new experiments to accompany her usual toolkit of modular, analogue, and rare synthesizers (including her signature Buchla), orchestral sounds, and the voice. She created a new vocal processing technique, and gave herself permission to pursue a pacing that felt intuitive, rather one that followed typical song structures. She walked around in the windiest season with a subwoofer backpack and an umbrella, listening to the low end of the album amidst 60mph gusts. She listened to herself, and, in doing so, to an inner community which suddenly opened to her. Underlying the album is a dynamic relationship between what Smith describes as six distinct voices, each a multifaceted storyteller. By acknowledging these characters, she was acknowledging her whole being: the woven plurality of self, the complex process of noticing and resolving inner conflicts, and the joy of finding harmony in flux. "I started to feel so embodied by all of these characters. This is all the felt, unsaid stuff [my inner community] wants to communicate but it doesn't have the English language as its form of communication, and so [this album was a form of] giving space to let it talk and not judge it and just let it play." By not adhering to expected song structures, each song feels even more like a conversation, with each character getting to express themselves in full.

Following the breakup of Cream, lyricist/vocalist Pete Brown formed his Battered Ornaments with guitarist Chris Spedding, drummer Rob Tait, bassist Butch Potter, percussionist Pete Bailey and saxophonist Nisar Ahmed Khan, but during the recording of sophomore album Mantle Piece, Brown fell out with Spedding, resulting in his departure. The resultant spacey venture has jazz and blues shades, riding the sonic waves under Spedding’s direction, with Khan’s sax and Potter’s bass fitting foils to Spedding’s guitar and keyboards. This is another great piece of the Spedding puzzle, with pleasantly meandering interludes.