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‘If it is the radical edge of uncompromising hardcore minimalism that you are after, this reissue of Four Organs and Phase Patterns delivers two key examples.
‘‘I am interested in perceptible processes’ Reich had written in 1968. ‘I want to be able to hear the processes happening throughout the sounding music.’ Four Organs is a radical realisation of this goal. Against the steady rattle of maracas, individual tones within a single chord are gradually lengthened. No changes of pitch or timbre occur, and the drawn out nature of the process provoked outrage at some early performances, when audiences found themselves caught up in a decelerating loop, being dragged towards stasis. Phase Patterns, composed a month later, relies on a phasing technique developed during Reich’s earlier experiments with magnetic tape recordings, which he allowed to drift out of sync. Identical figures initially in unison shift out of phase, generating unexpected patterns.’
‘Obviously music should put all within listening range into a state of ecstasy’ (Steve Reich).
Vinyl from Aguirre.

It’s Gonna Rain is a total knockout.
Steve Reich’s first official piece is spun out of a chance encounter with a Pentecostalist preacher at work in San Francisco’s Union Square Park in 1964.
“He’s talking about the flood in the Bible and Noah and the ark, and you’ve got to remember the Cuban missile crisis was in ‘62, and this was something hanging over everyone’s head ... that we could be so much radioactive dust in the next day or two. So this seemed very appropriate…. There are two loops of his voice, starting in unison. And then one slowly creeps ahead of the other — I just did it with my thumb on the recording reel of one of the machines. And so they go out of phase. It’s like a canon or a round, like Row, Row, Row Your Boat. And you get first a kind of shaking, a reverberation, and then you get a sort of imitation and gradually you begin to hear it as a round. And that’s exactly what happens in this piece.”
Apocalyptic, riveting, banging, urgent, game-changing… it’s killer.

‘This third solo album is a deep, widescreen exploration in classic Brazilian song with all the subtlety and delicacy you’d expect from the pioneers of Musica Popular Brasileira, coupled with a thoroughly 21st century sensibility and sonic innovativeness. Layers of intricate instrumentation and arrangement make for spellbound, excavatory listening.
‘Recorded following Gomes’ move from Rio to Lisbon, the album is imbued with a sense of unease and cultural dislocation. A number of songs based on the Samba Ostinato explicitly celebrate Brazil’s musical heritage and culture.
‘Led by Gomes’ gentle and dreamy voice, the music is often reminiscent of mighty trailblazers like Caetano Veloso, João Bosco, or Edu Lobo, though it takes unexpected lines of flight into more experimental territory. An element of drone underpinning the whole album takes full charge on Fllux and Transição; and the finale is molten, raging hardcore.
‘A sun-drenched, balmy dream from start to finish.’

Legendary, underground French rock from 1980, ranging from lo-fi fuzz to full-blown prog. Each song is presented as the hallucination of a possessed six-year-old. Featuring the fourteen-minute Theme Guerre.

Taut horror soundtrack from 1963: dramatically orchestral, with jazzy intervals.

Late-60s psych folk — a massive underground smash in South Africa — with the calypsofried drug-sick masterpiece Sugar Man.

Recorded in 1971, up the road from us at the Lansdowne Studios, this was the Sugarman’s last shot at the big-time.

“We entered the shadowy mouth of a new space, descending into a realm that precedes the underworld, the arcane, far from our time. We met beasts that gave us lessons about their language which we started learning without grammar.”

Bocca D’ombra is built on a series of whispers and breaths, panting and rustling. A closeness sometimes verging on claustrophobia is fissured with the sounds of crackling fireworks, birdsong, church bells, muffled cries from a children’s playground, like shafts of faraway light, or an insurgent subconscious. A kind of musical animism — influenced by ecological writers like Timothy Morton and Gregory Bateson — with a heavy heart it haunts the porous limits of human and natural realms. Improvisations with traditional instruments like electric and acoustic guitars, monophonic synths, horns or flutes meet natural noise-making tools like branches, nuts, and rocks.
Heady, intoxicating, highly personal, thought-provoking music from Milan. Check it out.

The soundtrack to the French TV series adapting Henri de Monfreid’s account of his travels in the Middle East. The music for the first series in 1967 features various flutes and marine conches; for underwater settings a celesta or a crystal xylophone. For the later 1975 series, de Roubaix composed a new music score, mixing old and new sounds, his EMS VCS3 synthesizer subtly mixed with acoustic instruments.

Moss-green, rooted, bodily crossings of Folk, Ambient, Drone, and experimental electroacoustic music, using violin, woodwind, percussion, voice, and various effects. Captivatingly story-based and ancient as fairy tales. The inner life of a pearl of sap in song. Warmly recommended.

‘The compilation that started the renaissance… twelve tracks of Buddhist Bubblegum Alt Disco Pop recorded during Arthur’s prime years 1985-90.’