Telephone Explosion proudly presents the self-titled debut LP from Toronto’s UH HUH, out physically and digitally on April 14, 2023. The album features eight tracks of dub-damaged art rock which conjure a potent vision of spaced-out 1980s post-punks feeding their angular rhythms and bass-heavy grooves through layer upon layer of grime-spattered spring reverb.

There is a palpable sense of discovery and exploration throughout UH HUH’s 37 heady minutes. Elastic basslines and serpentine guitar phrases throb and glide, cutting through dubwise reverberations like hands moving through an opaque cloud of reefer smoke.

Formerly known as Teenanger, the reconfigured (and reinvigorated) group’s newfound sense of sonic identity is put on display the moment the door kicks open. The percolating spaciousness of opener “Somewhere Beyond” is followed by the cyclical grooves of “Redemption Pause.” Vocalists Christopher Swimmings and Melissa Ball each take respective turns at lead vocal duties, showcasing their contrasting yet complimentary styles.

“Babylon”, a slab of overcast, loping funk features both singers on the same track, alternating between Swimmings’ stoned syncopation and Ball’s saccharine melancholy. This juxtaposition leans against a backdrop of reverb-soaked drums, watery guitar chords and rippling trumpet.

The slinking, fractured grooves of “Rain (In The Afternoon)” and “Citrus Song” call to mind the deranged minimal dub-wave of Naffi or Vivien Goldman. Both songs feature lyrical content heavily inspired by the Florida swamplands, although the aural landscape on these tracks is decidedly more brutalist than Boca Raton. Two of the songs included here are reworkings of previously released Teenanger numbers. “Blinds Drawn” is reduced to its core elements of bottom-heavy rhythm, spliced guitar shanks and Swimmings’ murmured ruminations. “Good, You”, on the other hand, is completely re-imagined as a blissed-out melt of opiated bossa nova.

After countless hours of experimentation during the album’s recording sessions at Toronto’s Studio Z, the band decided to send their drum machines, snare drums and percussion through an obscure 1960’s Japanese Guyatone guitar amp with a notoriously ecstatic spring reverb sound. The result was immediately inspiring.

The dank, busted and clanking tones produced by the Guyatone evoke a muggy, humid atmosphere that mimics the photo on UH HUH’s cover. The process of re-amping is literally the means through which UH HUH found the sound of this record. UH HUH is a record that asks more questions than it does provide answers. This is searching music that requires that the listener lean into it, the more time you spend in between the beats, bars, notes contained within, the more vivid the picture becomes. More

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.” More

The Badge Époque Ensemble return to Telephone Explosion Records with a new LP, Clouds of Joy. Featuring three vocal-led compositions, three instrumentals and three choral arrangements, this new album presents the Ensemble’s most ambitious, mature and engaging material to date. Clouds represents a shift from the group’s previous sonic excursions into the worlds of vintage soundtrack grooves and early electric jazz towards a more era-ambiguous, complex and all-encompassing approach to arrangement & production.

Undergoing a major shift of consciousness upon learning that he was expecting twins, BÉE leader Maximilian ‘Twig’ Turnbull found the spark to initiate the album within his reflections upon the nature of human joy. This shift in mindset also helped shape the record from an operational standpoint: Turnbull stepped away from his fixture on keys, leaving all of the musical performance on this record to his cast of collaborators. With Max assuming a more “directorial” approach to production and arrangement à la Barry White, David Axelrod, or Fagen & Becker, this album finds the Badge Époque Ensemble in its most collaborative mode to date. Vocalists Dorothea Paas, James Bailey and guitarist Chris Bezant all have co-writing credits here with Bezant contributing significantly to three compositions, including the album’s title track. The album was mixed collaboratively as well, as another joint effort between Turnbull, Steve Chahley and Tony Price, a trio who have teamed up behind the mixing desk for all previous BÉE albums, as well as U.S. Girls’ Heavy Light LP.

For the most part, the Ensemble on this record is made up of names familiar to anyone following the Badge cosmology: drummer Jay Anderson, bassist Gio Rosati, flautist Alia O’Brien, saxophonist Karen Ng, percussionist Ed Squires and guitarist Chris Bezant, with the new addition of young jazz pianist Edwin De Goeij, a perfect surrogate for Turnbull’s ideas on keys. (This in-demand collection of musicians represent a scattering of key cogs from a clutch of other premium Canadian exports; The Weather Station, Andy Shauf, U.S. Girls & Marker Starling). Clouds’ emphasis on the sound of the human voice finds its perfect outlet in vocal arrangements by labelmate Dorothea Paas and a return from lead vocalist James Baley. Their contributions find compliment by a choir composed of session vocalists, (including singers from Bernice and Bonjay) who come together to provide a series of show-stopping harmonic acrobatics.

Familiar Badge motifs are present through this album’s nine tracks: extended sections of dusty drum & conga breaks, swirling saxophone and flute flourishes, fleet-fingered guitar excursions, hazy Rhodes chords and lashing Clavinet stabs, but where Clouds excels is in its ability to weave tremendous vocal performances and choral arrangements into its dense tapestry of sound. The lilting melodies and multidimensional harmonies on tracks “Conspiring With Nature” and “All Same 2 Each, Each Same 2 All” bear the hallmarks of late sixties baroque AM-radio pop, while James Baley’s ecstatic, Stevie-esque lead vocal performance on “Zodiac” could light up the midnight sky, turning a nearly eight minute jazz-funk instrumental odyssey into a sure-shot dancefloor hit. Lyrically, Turnbull’s interest in an aphoristic spiritual mysticism condenses reflections on the complexity of human emotion into bold, succinct phrases, a quality most clearly communicated on the album’s three choral pieces, “The Greatest Joy”, “Let Breath Be The Sum”, and “Joy Flows” (upon first hearing these works Turnbull’s partner Meg Remy remarked that they sounded like “radio hits on the planet Dune”).

Clouds of Joy comes serendipitously as catalog number TER0100 - the hundredth release for Telephone Explosion, the rapidly burgeoning Toronto label. It is the group’s third proper full length of five total releases for the imprint in only 4 years. It represents the Ensemble’s most fully realized presentation of a founding vision to create music as human, organic and alive as it is synthesized, produced and designed; music that transcends the notion of linear time, pulling in influences and ideas from the past and taking them far into the future. More

Repress!

Quiet Music is a collection of pieces created by Steve Roach between 1983 and 1986 in respect for silence. The gentle electronics of Roach's synthesizers mix with flute, electric piano and nature sounds flow like breath, enveloping the listener in a sustained, delicate and translucent atmosphere. Quiet Music was originally released as a three tape cassette series in 1986 on Fortuna Records and is now being issued as a complete series on vinyl for the first time ever.

After Structures From Silence was released, Steve was receiving invitations to create music for the emerging meditation yoga and healing arts community in Los Angeles. Quiet Music 1 was originally commissioned for a meditation video, which featured a collection of video images of lush forested areas, wild flowers and natural serenity. But by the time the piece was completed the producer passed away and the project was never completed. Quiet Music 1’s direct connection to a distinct environment set the tone for the trilogy of albums. Quiet Music 2 was inspired by Steve spending a lot of time in deserts and was created as a natural progression from Structures From Silence, and the more nocturnal feeling of Quiet Music 3 were pieces designed for Steve’s personal healing practices.

The Quiet Music series was released in a timeline that is often seen as linear but this music was created directly along side the dynamic fully electronic albums like Now, Traveler, and Empetus. In the early 80’s Steve would be shifting between the invigorating sequencer-percussive driven music and then move directly into weightless drifts and contemplative spaces. This way of creating grew naturally out of a desire to not settle into one place sonically and to nourish himself with a space that could be creative and fine tuned, creating a calm and renewing zone while living within the hectic pace of urban life in Los Angeles. More

Repress!

Quiet Music is a collection of pieces created by Steve Roach between 1983 and 1986 in respect for silence. The gentle electronics of Roach's synthesizers mix with flute, electric piano and nature sounds flow like breath, enveloping the listener in a sustained, delicate and translucent atmosphere. Quiet Music was originally released as a three tape cassette series in 1986 on Fortuna Records and is now being issued as a complete series on vinyl for the first time ever.

After Structures From Silence was released, Steve was receiving invitations to create music for the emerging meditation yoga and healing arts community in Los Angeles. Quiet Music 1 was originally commissioned for a meditation video, which featured a collection of video images of lush forested areas, wild flowers and natural serenity. But by the time the piece was completed the producer passed away and the project was never completed. Quiet Music 1’s direct connection to a distinct environment set the tone for the trilogy of albums. Quiet Music 2 was inspired by Steve spending a lot of time in deserts and was created as a natural progression from Structures From Silence, and the more nocturnal feeling of Quiet Music 3 were pieces designed for Steve’s personal healing practices.

The Quiet Music series was released in a timeline that is often seen as linear but this music was created directly along side the dynamic fully electronic albums like Now, Traveler, and Empetus. In the early 80’s Steve would be shifting between the invigorating sequencer-percussive driven music and then move directly into weightless drifts and contemplative spaces. This way of creating grew naturally out of a desire to not settle into one place sonically and to nourish himself with a space that could be creative and fine tuned, creating a calm and renewing zone while living within the hectic pace of urban life in Los Angeles. More

Beyond whatever mood is likely struggling to be sculpted by the house playlist, restaurants are full of their own natural music. Porcelain and cutlery clatter in bus bins like little medieval battlefields; the chatter of patrons smears into a single stormy texture; the kitchen staff hollers and chides as their own chosen music competes for the ear of anyone walking to the restroom; the churning and hissing of the dish steamer leads the assemblage of sounds that leak out from the back of house to and cling to a diner’s subconscious. The fact that restaurants employ so many hustling musicians, whose entire lives are centered around sonic sensitivity and awareness, is either grand irony or total synergy. Toronto outfit Fresh Pepper, led by longtime friends Andre Ethier and Joseph Shabason, playfully navigates the mental and emotional mark left on many musicians by such places. Their self-titled debut is less concerned with their service-industry traumas, doldrums, and setbacks than it is with creating a relatable space for album’s contributors to fully be themselves within the ease and freedom of having similar histories. Shabason, Ethier, and company recount their culinary past lives across eight jazzy and benevolent tracks that exude their authors’ sheer enjoyment of the creation process. Though the mental image of restaurant inner workings might trigger a mix of urgency, weariness, and yearning for a better livelihood, Fresh Pepper recolors these frazzled scenes with fondness and levity, exorcizing past workplace woes through skillful musicianship and an earnest, slightly bizarre sense of humor.

Fresh Pepper was played and assembled in-person during a gap between COVID waves, and the gleeful rarity of the occasion is palpable. Whatever brooding was stereotypical of artists and musicians pre-pandemic was not invited to this reunion. From the very beginning moments of Fresh Pepper, Shabason and Ethier guide their companions (a sort of super group of Toronto musicians from acts like Bernice, Beverly Glenn Copeland, and even Destroyer’s Dan Bejar himself) with breathy, hushed tones via saxophone and vocals respectively, casually traversing their own annexed corridor between smooth jazz, exploratory avant-indie, and subverted adult-contemporary. Mid-performance apologies are left unmuted in the mix, room-tones are evident in spacious moments, and the spirit of close collaboration is omnipresent. After a mini-parade of loose and glassy keys, the pensive funk highlight “Prep Cook in the Weeds” intros with the kind of furrowed-brow noir-smoothness of some yesteryear crime drama, buoyed by Ethier’s gently insightful musings. “Another fly lands on the clock,” he sings in a hushed tone through a half-smile, pointing wryly toward the relationship between wage-workers and timekeeping devices. “Flies on the hands of time,” he continues, resigning his sense of control, “the flies take the wheel.” Ethier’s slice-of-life lyricism and serene baritone delivery find a fitting counterpart in Dan Bejar who appears on “Seahorse Tranquilizer”. Where featured vocalists-- especially those as iconic as Bejar-- would threaten to out-charisma an album’s resident personalities, Ethier and Bejar heighten the charm of each other’s demeanor in a natural and relaxed way, leading to one of the gentlest moments of an already gentle affair.

Conversely, the track “Dishpit” is noticeably the most abstract chapter of the album, reminiscent of the factory-like, thankless, yet oddly contemplative corner of the kitchen after which it is named. The track begins with a toyish, motorik pulse that imparts the fraught motivation of a full sink during lunch rush with still more dishes on the way. Shabason’s saxophone spins in the mist and steam, disoriented but determined, rallying an equally bewildered percussionist behind it. On much of the album, Shabason’s playing assumes more practical form in contrast to the ambient impressionism of his solo output, but here his atonal fourth-world fingerprints are easily visible. Following all this, “Congee Around Me” again finds warmth in the chaos, imparting the same sense of peace within the jumble that characterizes Fresh Pepper. “Mushrooms in the frying pan,” opens Ethier, summarizing the album’s pathos, “throw another in, I’ll see you when I see you.” Album ender “The Worm” - fatigued and victorious, fluttery and decayed, sounds like a memory-rich bygone era that never really existed. Was that 1990-something? Did it really happen that way? Did the sunlight really look like it does through a camcorder, or has sunlight always been the same as it is now? Does it really matter if I couldn’t see it from the kitchen anyway?

It could be argued that the best art frames its subjects without any commentary, leaving as much room for the viewer to fill with their own experiences, shortcomings, and longings as possible. Fresh Pepper provides this kind of framing around a scenario so taken-for-granted that it becomes mythic under the slightest examination. In this sense, like so many projects that Shabason puts his sonic stamp on, Fresh Pepper conjures an unexpected slice of enlightenment from somewhat unnoticed circumstances. True to form, Fresh Pepper assures us not just that we are going to be okay, but that we are okay right here and now, overtired as we are amid the stainless steel, heat lamps, and spattering oil. More

Jahmal Padmore’s debut solo album, Esparonto, arrives via Telephone Explosion Records on May 28th, 2022. Padmore has been honing his producing, songwriting, and drumming skills since 2007, working with artists like MSTRKRFT, The Carps, Just John and Brendan Philip. This extensive studio & collaboration experience has primed Jahmal for a standout debut, one that encompasses the diversity of his past musical work. Esparonto is a stunning collection of ten post-Afropunk R&B tracks that are languid, sexy and wry.

There is an undeniable sense of self-reflection that runs throughout Esperanto. Lyrics about distant regrets, ego detachment, and unconditional self-love are reoccurring, sung through Padmore’s signature lyrical croon. “... I can’t give you the things you need, without forsaking a part of me,” sings Padmore in the chorus of album opener Sorted, perfectly encapsulating the overarching vibe of Esperonto. Guitarist Benja’s foggy haze of abstract jazz chords provide a welcoming and warm atmosphere required for such deep contemplation.

Esperonto kicks it up a notch on the more hip hop-leaning tracks. Operator (ft: Matthew Progress), Ingestion (ft: Keita Juma) and Pretty are all rife with energy, with the latter taking the cake as the song most likely to be stuck in your head for the next 10 months, at least! The classic combination of a sample pack-worthy beat and a massive chorus are at work here. The song begins with the lyrics “I can’t help it if god made me pretty,” setting the hook for a stadium-sized chorus where Padmore proclaims “My ego gets me high/My ego tells me who I really am.” A follower of spiritual guru Ram Dass, Padmore appears to be one step closer to his goal of enlightenment, and is not ashamed of it.

The album closes with “So Cold,'' its most delicate track and a perfect come-down after such tireless self-evaluation. The epic crescendo sees Padmore repeatedly announcing “I’ve lost myself.” It’s clear that he has shed some unnecessary facets of his personality and is ready to move forward. Recording at Telephone Explosion’s Studio Z, the trio of Padmore, Benja and OBGMs drummer/keyboardist Colanthony Humphries began with lengthy jam sessions which eventually became the cores of each track. Padmore plucked the most progressive bass and percussion

elements from the sessions and added samples to create Esperonto’s uniquely live aesthetic. The album was then mixed by Louis Cremades at House Of Balloons (The Weeknd) and mastered by Kevin McPhee at East End Mastering.

Esparonto’s title is drawn from the name of the constructed language that Polish ophthalmologist L.L. Zamenhof created in the late 1800s. On this album, Padmore constructs a musical language all his own, with songs firmly rooted in R&B that expand to include elements of jazz, ambient, house, hip hop and pop. After years of holding space for other artists and productions, Padmore’s thrilling debut is a clear proclamation from an artist who is ready to step out of the shadows and into his own light. More

Moves is their sixth release, and somewhat of a milestone. In addition to it being the octet's most psychedelic and arrestingly soulful release thus far, it's also their longest—their first, in fact, to cross into bonafide full-length territory. They're marking the occasion by joining the roster of Toronto favourite Telephone Explosion Records.

Touted as “innately personal” by DownBeat Magazine, Brodie West's unique vision has been nourished by a bafflingly diverse array of sources. Meeting the legendary Dutch drummer Han Bennink in 2000 at age 24 not only sparked an ongoing creative partnership (including two records), but also led him in a number of other fruitful directions. Bennink was the connection to exploratory punks The Ex, who brought West aboard for their collaboration with Ethiopian saxophonist Getatchew Mekurya, which produced recordings and tours worldwide.

Where the Brodie West Quintet (Astral Spirits, Ansible Editions) trades in clever jazz asymmetry and his duo Ways is a stark and focussed exploration of rhythm, Eucalyptus is where this eclecticism is most audible. The band simmers with polyrhythmic percussion, laid-back jazz sweetness, various strains of psychedelic wonk, and subtle tropical aromas from dub on “Rose Manor,” named after the retirement home of his musical grandmother Lorna (ever a source of inspiration for West) to Bossa Nova, as heard on “It's In A Move.” Its streaks of free-form bedlam and pure sonic texture keep listeners poised for perplexity and cheerful volatility.

Moves manages to approximate the playful, intoxicating warmth the band conjures in their beloved local live appearances. Eucalyptus has made a tradition out of mounting month-long residencies at Hirut, a cozy east-end eatery that serves delicious Ethiopian cuisine. Hirut even gets a nod in the credits. Perhaps it's because this record's subtle whimsy and inviting disarray draws so much from the spirit of those evenings.

A large part of this odd concoction's success comes down to West's co-conspirators, a veritable who's who of Toronto's underground music community. Trumpet player Nicole Rampersaud, who has since relocated to Fredericton, New Brunswick, has sculpted her unique tone as composer-in-residence at Halifax's EVERYSEEKER Festival and in collaborations with the likes of Rakalam Bob Moses, Anthony Braxton, Joe Morris and Telephone Explosion's own Joseph Shabason. Ryan Driver (clavinet) has cut a series of gorgeous song records for Tin Angel Records, and collaborated with Eric Chenaux (Constellation) in various projects, while leading a number of his own imaginative outfits. Michael Smith (bass) plays with Toronto psychonauts the Cosmic Range and has toured and recorded with MV+EE, Sandro Perri plus countless others. Fellow Perri collaborator, percussionist Blake Howard brings the palpable joy of his playing to collaborations with Marker Starling, Little Annie, and the surrealist mischief of GUH. 2021 saw Nick Fraser (drums) leading a disc on Hat-Hut's Ezzthetics imprint. It follows a string of other celebrated recordings with international out-jazz heavyweights like Tony Malaby and Kris Davis for Clean Feed, Astral Spirits and more. In addition to pursuing his delicate solo song work, drummer Evan Cartwright plays in both of West's other projects, and has performed and recorded with Tasseomancy, The Weather Station, US Girls, Badge Époque and Andy Shauf.

Another exciting development unveiled on Moves is the presence of guitarist Kurt Newman, who replaces longtime member Alex Lukashevsky. Newman's whirling treatments and colorful array of tones figure prominently into the ensemble's new and disorienting sound. Newman was the co-founder of premiere Austin improv festival No Idea alongside Chris Cogburn. A ceaseless collaborator who's worked with the likes of Sarah Hennies, Tetuzi Akiyama, Mats Gustafsson, he also leads his own projects such as Country Phasers and the Nashville Minimalism Unit. More

Originally a digital-only release, this album carries the Toronto electronic music artist's body of work into a temporal loop of sorts, uniting a bond with Wave Science, his June 2021 EP on Pacific Rhythm. City of Rooms was completed in February 2021 and written as an escape during pressurized times. It invites an abstract style of listening in which any given sound links to various moments throughout the album.

The EP flows like scenery on a long train ride. Track lights pass with a rhythmic certainty as foreground and background twist around each other. Listeners will be transported through a geography of sounds that function as independent parts of a whole. Triangulations occur as elements fall into different forms of relief against each other.

A sense of technologically alienated mystery envelops the wings of this album in the distant clicks and hums that churn beneath jeweled synth extremities. Rings of Roland toms and hi-hats pierce clouds of ambient pads, the signature chaotic truth of acidic 303 patterns cross time kept by a twitching rhythm section rendered in field samples from the local grocery store. Arpeggiated slopes built off of echo and fuzz ascend, a remote whistle answers the syncopated call of a güiro before transforming into a cricket in flight and revealing that there is a latin backbone to much of the percussion on City of Rooms.

In a few instances Emissive hides gemlike hooks beneath minutes of intricate construction.The album opens with Quartz Register, a steady and intricate gallop of servos and circuit noise at times verging on conga.On Natural Springs, an acid riff announces an amazingly perplexing synth güiro solo. Sunset Yellow sees tubular horn-like barks emerge in a flurry before pulling off to form a sparse alternating backbeat that haunts the rest of the track. The final track, Constellation of Friends, is an arrangement of familiar 808 samples treated to an exquisitely measured mix that turns an 808 cowbell sample into an otherworldly clock.

City Of Rooms Tracklisting:
1. Quartz Register - 7:34
2. Natural Springs - 7:05
3. Sunset Yellow - 6:55
4. Chlorophyll - 6:17
5. Constellation Of Friends - 5:34 More

"Feels like I'm made of glass," Carlyn Bezic sings over a tumbling, harmonic guitar riff on "Pummelled Into Sand," the closing song of Faster Than I Can Take. "Like I could cut you, or you could break me in half." It's a double-edged statement about the power that comes from inhabiting your vulnerability, a complicated truth expressed so beautifully it seems almost simple.

Making the impossible look easy has always been Bezic's musical M.O. Faster Than I Can Take is her sophomore album as Jane Inc., a solo project forged after years of building her bona fides in the Toronto music scene with groups like U.S. Girls, Darlene Shrugg and acclaimed dance-pop duo Ice Cream. Pitchfork called Jane Inc's first album, 2020's Number One, "dazzling... [Bezic] proves herself a musical Swiss Army knife, capable of anything and revelling in her multiplicity." On Faster Than I Can Take, she uses all the tools at her disposal - a Prince-like ability to shred harmonic guitar riffs over deep, danceable grooves, an eagerness to experiment with form, and lyricism that seamlessly links the personal and the political - to focus the multifaceted energy of Number One into something completely singular. A disco-inflected, danceable meditation on the permeable boundaries between our interior and exterior worlds, Faster Than I Can Take is an album that you can listen to at a party or alone in your apartment - but no matter where you listen, it will make you dance.

On lead single "Contortionists," Bezic's voice floats over a landscape of spare, warping synths and ethereal backing vocals from Dorothea Paas (U.S. Girls, Badge Epoque Ensemble), seeming at first to sketch out a familiar pandemic scene: "The laws of time have changed / months pass in minutes, hours feel like days." But as the melody begins to swirl and bend back over itself, a deeper theme creeps in. “At first I thought I was making a record about time," Bezic explains, "but I was actually making a record about how, in moments of intense anxiety, you're living in the past, present and future at the same time. A million moments existing at once, real and imagined." By the time the song drops into a ticking groove, you know exactly what she means.

Many of the songs on Faster Than I Can Take work this way - taking concepts that feel intimately interior and expanding them into something universal. Songs like the moody, bass-heavy title track, or the bright, searing "Pummelled Into Sand," where a Hendrix-like guitar solo runs under Bezic's voice like a third rail, deal with what Bezic calls "the pain of change and growth." "Human Being" and "Dancing With You" (whose bridge features the catchiest meditation break you've ever heard in a dance-pop song), explore the psychedelic melding of individual and collective worlds that can come from fantasizing about performance while alone in your house, or connecting to a group of strangers through your computer screen.

In "An Ordinary Thing," Bezic contemplates the complexities of wanting to create anything - art, or even a family - against the backdrop of the Anthropocene. "Someone please take this from me / this feeling, this need," she sings, the tension audible in her voice. But in the next track, the irresistibly danceable "2120," that anxiety turns into powerful resolve: "I'll pour my grief into this plastic crucible / Forge a new infinite fuel made of anger, and hope, and refusal," she sings against a driving, determined beat.

That determination is what makes Faster Than I Can Take unlike anything else you've heard this year - a work of art that refuses to either wallow in the difficulties of contemporary life or ignore them in favour of escapist fantasy. As Jane Inc., Bezic takes on the complexities of living in the world - alone, and with others - with playfulness, honesty, openness and love, and turns all that complication into something that will move you.

Faster Than I Can Take Tracklisting:

1. Contortionists - 4:23
2. Human Being - 3:18
3. Picture The Future - 2:36
4. Every Rip - 4:09
5. An Ordinary Thing - 4:00
6. 2120 - 5:05
7. Faster Than I Can Take - 4:52
8. Dancing With You - 7:05
9. Pummelled Into Sand - 3:42 More

Toronto avant-pop experimenters Bernice will follow up their Polaris Prize longlisted 2021 LP 'Eau De Bonjourno' with 'Bonjourno My Friends', an EP featuring seven remixes of songs from EDB.

Tracklisting:

1. Empty Cup (Yves Jarvis Sequel)
2. Personal Bubble (Sam Gendal Remix)
3. Big Mato (Kalbells Remix)
4. We Choose You (Anja Lauvdal Remix)
5. It’s Me, Robin (New Chance Retrograde Remix)
6. Dry Riverbed (Vibrant Matter Remix)
7. 07 Infinite Love (Julsie Remix) More

How do you self-stabilize amidst ongoing crisis? Or, more crucially, what does it mean to question how much control we have over our collective well-being? On Ballad of a Tryhard, the third album by Scott Hardware, the moniker of Toronto-based musician and composer Scott Harwood, he attempts a response by honouring the splendor of “living between emotions.” It’s an album where a rich inner monologue, and the undefined space between reflection and realization can offer an invaluable reprieve. Over luminous keys and sky-sweeping melodies, Harwood reverse engineers his capabilities as a composer skilled in the art of complexity to deliver his boldest album to date — unselfconsciously ambitious Y2K rock; a reimagination of experimental adult contemporary that tweaks the limits of soft rock with curiosity and appreciation.

On Ballad of a Tryhard Hardware conducts a painstaking character evaluation to better understand the world by looking inward. Suspended and exalting, the album bursts with cinematic flourishes that ring with a courageous form of earnestness. Because once you examine the internal toll of people-pleasing, and question if charisma has been overvalued, is there space to imagine a new reality that seeks to uplift rather than wallow — observing sparse moments of beauty and light amidst a world in constant mourning?

Crafted in Spain and co-produced with Matt Smith (Prince Nifty, Owen Pallett), Ballad of a Tryhard is a snapshot of weeks spent in Elche, a sleepy Mediterranean city on the southeast coast, wandering through emptied-out streets, becoming acquainted with the interiors of a historic apartment block, and living for the first time with a familiar love. With unlimited time on his hands, Harwood would write slowly, playing piano until dawn. The result is an album with ornate and bucolic orchestral arrangements that nod to a background in techno and house with a tangled web of synths and strings. On tracks like “Summer” (featuring members of Phedre, Lee Paradise, WHIMM, Vallens, Blunt Chunks, and Jaunt) and “Love Through the Trees,” Harwood tries his hand on bouncy, heartstring ballads built for the open road, while “Watersnake” is an unstoppable earworm that makes an anthemic proposition for her own self-surety.

Prior to his solo work as Scott Hardware, Harwood played with indie rock stalwart Toronto groups like Ostrich Tuning and released ambient pop as Ken Park. A move to Berlin influenced his 2016 debut, Mutate Repeat Infinity, which centered the dancefloor as a site of queer resilience. 2020’s Engel pulled direct inspiration from Wim Wender’s 1987 haunting masterpiece Wings of Desire. In 2021 Harwood was accepted into the Slaight Family Music Lab.

Tracklist:

1. Summer
2. Mediterranean
3. Another Day Ending
4. Is Something Wrong Tonight
5. Love Through The Trees
6. Watersnake
7. Dentera
8. Sing Like That
9. Bootleg
10. Underdog More

16 track LP of crazy ones.

Producer Tony Price returns to Telephone Explosion Records with his new “MARK VI” LP, an eclectic set of songs with a distinctly late-night feel. The album features 16 tracks of oblique drum machine funk, sizzling electro dubs and freaky public access TV atmospheres that spill into the streets with the combustible energy of a late night radio dance party before dissolving into a melt of bizarro techno-surrealist jazz by album’s end.

“MARK VI” is sixth full length from Mr. Price. This stretch of albums - “I Prefer Coca Cola” (2079), “Celica Absolu” (2018), “86’d” (2019), “La Vie” (2019) and “Interview/ Discount” (2020) - is a masterclass in uncouth production techniques, genre-melding and sonic satire. His production expertise has played role in breakthrough records from the likes of U.S. Girls, Young Guv, Ice Cream, the Badge Epoque Ensemble, Miss World, and Michael Rault, on labels like 4AD, Capitol Records, Burger Records, DFA, Slumberland, Run For Cover and more. In 2017 he founded Maximum Exposure, a record label and creative services unit tasked with providing top notch knob twiddling to the musical underground of the 2020’s.

His new record is named after the 1981 Lincoln Continental Mark VI that Mr. Price purchased off of a former radio DJ and archivist towards the end of 2020. In the trunk of the car was a bag full of cassette tapes of homemade mixes and radio show recordings from the late 1980’s that featured the kinetic clank of Detroit Techno, bombastic Def Jam instrumentals, TR-808 freestyle workouts, jacked-up Chicago House and hundreds of advertisements for outmoded products and redundant services. Utilizing early samplers like the Ensoniq Mirage, various drum machines and synthesizers, Tony ventured to create an album that celebrated the unabashed eclecticism, futurism and explosive production techniques of the music and commercials he heard on those tapes.
The crude and unrefined sonic source material that “MARK VI” is built from comes embedded with sizzle, hiss and hum. The messy leakage of parallel channels, telecommunication lines and metropolitan sound matter bleeds through in the spaces between beat and bassline. Foregrounding the auditory characteristics of the machinic unconscious, “MARK VI” is a celebration of the ghostly sonic artifacts from a time just before the future ceased to feel as though it were still in front of us.

Mark VI Tracklisting:
1. Night Time Mind: 0:34
2. Learning From Las Vegas: 2:52
3. L’Escorte: 3:26
4. Aerosol: 3:33
5. Power Hour: 2:08
6. Mark VI: 2:11
7. Prime: 3:10
8. Valentino: 2:12
9. 115 BPM: 1:51
10. Phreak: 3:22
11. Supra: 2:50
12. Turbo (Dub): 3:09
13. 132 BPM:1:30
14. City TV: 0:39
15. Corporate Graphic: 1:26
16. House Of Information: 6:11 More

On Further Up Island , André Ethier completes the trilogy of solo albums that began with 2017’s Under Grape Leaves and 2019’s Croak In The Weeds. While not narratively linked in the traditional sense, these records document the musician’s ongoing collaboration with producer Sandro Perri. Like Robert Altman’s run of brilliant films with Shelley Duvall in the 1970s, the duo have developed a singular creative kinship over the course of three LPs.

Since his days as the frontman of the Deadly Snakes, Ethier has cultivated an entirely different artistic practice as an acclaimed contemporary painter. At the same time, he has quietly slipped out a spellbinding body of work as a solo musician, with this album trifecta showcasing his skills as one of Canada’s most vastly underrated songwriters and storytellers. Ethier’s songs are casually played but carefully orchestrated, allowing each element to appear in sharp focus.

“These albums are a series using the same palette,” explains Ethier, whose softly coloured paintings also grace the covers of the trilogy. “The tools Sandro and I used on all three of them are similar so that the songs can almost be interchangeable. It’s a way of giving time to a creative relationship so it can blossom, like developing a shorthand with a co-worker. Nurturing that process allows it to grow.”

Tracklist:
1. Are You Going: 3:06
2. Doodah: 2:06
3. Nature Compels: 5:08
4. Flies: 2:31
5. Rolling Stones: 2:53
6. BC: 2:03
7. Slow The Wheel: 2:12
8. The Moon Is Round And Empty: 3:51
9. Wild Goldfish: 6:01
10. You Ride My Mind: 3:08
11. Wild Blueberries: 2:18
12. I'll Reject Myself: 1:12
13. On The Wheel: 2:54
14. On My Mind: 1:18 More

Repress!

Sensational – that’s Frank Hatchett! These words can be found on many of the 16 albums credited to the legendary NYC jazz dancer, choreographer, and teacher to the stars - Madonna, Brooke Shields, Olivia Newton-John, and Naomi Cambell.

In the highlights compiled on this expansive double LP set, the sounds of Hatchett’s albums run the gamut from disco and funk in the 1970s to electro and proto-techno as they glide through the ’80s. Most tracks clock in at a brisk 2:30 – the ideal length for Hatchett’s classes or his students’ recital performances. Fans of library music will find a similar focus on immaculate performances, while the tightly coiled drum breaks, Afro-Cuban rhythms, and thumping 808s will send rare groove collectors into a state of head nodding bliss.

Hatchett’s name and photos may appear on the sleeves of his records like Dance Crazy, Jazz Power, or Vop Style, but he is nowhere to be found in the music contained within. Instead, these albums dating back to 1974 were recorded by studio players under the guidance of musical director Don Tipton or arranger Zane Mark. Performers include: keyboardist Fred McFarlane (Madonna, Keith Sweat, Evelyn “Champagne” King), drummer Bernard Davis (Steve Winwood, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Kool & The Gang). More

Máscaras is anchored by Valdivia's deft and atmospheric production style that folds together intricate spiraling synths, balmy environments, and crisp drum programming, variously drawing from trap, footwork, early Warp-label gestures, and the digital end of dancehall reggae. Yet it's his love of organic instrumentation that truly cements his commitment to an eclectic, unclassifiable aesthetic. Although he's well-respected as a drummer—particularly in wayward rock and improvised music circles—Mas Aya often serves to showcase Valdivia's prowess as a wind player. His iterative but expressive playing on tin whistle, bansuri, quena (as well as other instruments such as the llamador, and thumb pianos) imbues these compositions with a warm, tactile quality. Lido Pimienta's vocal appearance on “Tiempo Ahora” builds upon this human presence, steering things temporarily into abstract R&B territory. Meanwhile, the sampled voices that Valdivia threads throughout the first side underscore his connection to hip hop production tactics, while referencing key figures within current and historical popular movements in Nicaragua.

Although the record is steeped in both rhythmic electronica and a wide assortment Latin American sounds both contemporary and ancient, according to Valdivia, aspects of it also reflect his training with with noted composer Linda Catlin Smith, whose lyrical quasi-stasis can be heard lurking in its mesmeric, recursive structures.

Máscaras Tracklisting:
1. Momento Presente - 6:21
2. Key - 7:39
3. 18 de Abril - 5:21
4. Villanueva - 8:22
5. Tiempo Ahora - 5:19
6. Quiescence - 7:49 More

Repress!
Steve Roach is one of the defining American artists of new age music, perpetually on a quest for silence and the suspension of time in his music. “Structures from Silence” is his third album originally released in 1984, and is his first purely textural album, with a smooth, dark, gentle atmospheres unlike any of his other albums. More

Before forming outer limits jazz-rock outfit Badge Époque Ensemble, Max Turnbull masterminded the oddball pop persona Slim Twig, wrote and performed with U.S. Girls, and moonlighted in varyingly experimental groups across his native Toronto. While this was going on, the devout crate digger had his third eye trained on another project—one that would span the breadth of his mercurial creativity. This “journal album,” as he puts it, is titled Scroll, and it collages together the pearls of Turnbull’s eight-year dive into his songwriting imagination. Sprawling across 90 audacious minutes, Scroll—released simply as Badge Epoch, a tidy distinction from the collective Époque Ensemble—sounds unearthed from a lost musical Atlantis. Turnbull calls it “a cosmic
hodge podge of funk, jazz, ambient techno, aggressive guitarmonized rawk, musique concrète, and hip hop. More