The best new albums this week

A rather ghostly round up of new year LPs from our team of writers

ALBUM OF THE WEEK

Pye Corner Audio – Entangled Routes (Ghost Box)

The evolution of Martin Jenkins’ Pye Corner Audio project has been subtle but steady. In terms of mood and sonics, there isn’t a great deal of distance between the earliest Black Mill Tapes releases and his latest works. Globular analogue synth lines reliably cast into a pervasive gloom – a gloom which evokes a peculiarly olde worlde Britishness in one of the most acute realisations of the hauntology aesthetic.

ut it would be lazy to consider Pye Corner Audio as a static venture lingering on one creative tract, and the most recent run of albums on Ghost Box serve as testament to that. Handily, Spanish label Lapsus pulled together a comprehensive retrospective of Jenkins’ earlier retro-fetishistic ruminations last year as the Black Mill Tapes (10th Anniversary Box), which helps accentuate where Pye Corner has progressed over the past decade.

In truth, the retro-fetishism tag is a slight stretch for Pye Corner Audio as it’s not explicitly retreading old ground, but rather evoking a sense of past times. It would be hard to picture anyone conjuring this abstract but oh so rich sense as effectively as Jenkins has, which goes some way to explain the popularity of his project. From its humble beginnings in the relatively insular tape world to remixing and touring with Mogwai, soundtracking Adam Curtis and plenty more high-profile co-signs, Pye Corner Audio is not the furtive secret it once was, and Jenkins never had to adapt his project to meet a broader audience. There’s a cosy comfort in this sound, spooky and minor-tuned though it may often be. Perhaps the appeal is ring-fenced by a generation triggered by these sounds, or maybe the voluptuous oscillations of his studio ensemble have a more universal appeal, but either way Pye Corner Audio captures something special which sits between obvious reference points and yet feels so familiar.

Following on from 2016’s Stasis and 2019’s Hollow Earth, the latest Pye Corner Audio album on its natural home of Ghost Box supposedly rounds out an ill-defined trilogy, and it’s worth considering these albums together as they stand in contrast to other singles and albums emitting from Jenkins’ incredibly productive studio. What these records represent is a refinement of the project’s concept, building on the established palette and atmosphere with an increased focus on production and composition. No longer the sound of a clandestine tinkerer working in secrecy and solitude, the Pye Corner Audio of now sounds vast and expansive, ready to depict bigger worlds beyond the mist cloaked valleys and hills.

Ironically, it’s ‘Buried Network’ which especially captures this wide-open energy as its uncharacteristically bright arpeggios reach skyward buoyed by an airy pad. The ‘Buried Network’ in question is a nod to mycorrhiza, the symbiotic association between a fungus and a plant which forms a vague theme for Entangled Networks. Fungus is a hot topic these days, given humanity’s hope that it holds the key to combating climate change, and so perhaps the sprawling scope Jenkins evokes in his patterns of cascading synths are under the earth rather than above it. Whether you want to supplant the concept onto the music in such literal terms or not, the music sounds more strident than ever before, as though engineered with a more expansive set of tools. Given Jenkins’ legacy working in high-end studios, this would seem more like an aesthetic choice at this stage rather than a step up in knowledge or equipment.

Entangled Networks still holds true to the original essence of Pye Corner Audio – you could positively identify the music if you’ve heard any one previous release. But it also sounds mature, from the progressive, narrative path of each track to the sumptuous production. The familiarity the project used to evoke for bygone times has perhaps been superseded by the project itself – you know where you are as those mellifluous arps starting pulsing around your ears, and it’s a consistently pleasurable place to be.

OW

Tom Carruthers – Non Stop Rhtyhms’ (LIES US)

UK-based producer Tom Carruthers makes his LIES debut with his hugely enjoyable long-player, ‘Non Stop Rhythms’. While this is Carruthers’ first appearance on wax (as far as we can garner), he’s been extraordinarily busy in the digital realm in the last couple of years, having released a flurry of tracks under various aliases on labels including L&T Recordings and his very own Non Stop Rhythm. His arrival on Rom Morelli’s wildly influential LIES imprint sees him enter a prestigious new arena, and – based upon the quality of the work contained within the album – he appears ably equipped to make his mark.

The floor-focused collection is firmly rooted in contemporary dance music’s glorious warehouse tradition, steeped in vintage house-meets-techno charm while captured through a modern lens. The MPC-heavy and sample laced LP wastes no time laying down its statement of intent, with the marching snares and irrepressible bass of opening track ‘Can You Feel It’ instantly transporting listeners to a heaving, strobe-lit Chicago-inspired proto-rave. The pounding bass of ‘Cyclone’ up the dance ante even further, before the looped synths, furious kick and mysterious pads of ‘Fantasies’ add a psychedelic haze to the four-to-the-floor vigour. The brooding acid growl of ‘Forge’ is endowed with a discreetly sinister edge, as chopped samples permeate the unnerving pads and vaguely dissonant mist. Maintaining the loop-heavy refrain, the delicious acid dirt of ‘Don’t Let Go’ lands like a twisted Nu:Groove classic, before the haunted house of ‘Eliminate’ surrenders to the sweat-soaked darkness. Raved-up pads elevate as infectious bleeps echo across the club through the jagged grooves of ‘Quest For Rydm’, before the gargantuan bass of ‘Incognito’ expertly tether the skyward floating synth motif. The hypnotic lead synth and hyper-atmospheric vocal sample of ‘Channel Control’ are propelled by a bass line that sounds as though it was forged by Joey Beltram himself, before closing track ‘Fx Under’ goes all out bleep to provide a wonky legged finale. If it’s nocturnal club fuel you’re after, look no further.

PC

Ellen Allien – Stadtkind (B Pitch Control)

20 years ago, techno in Berlin was a very different beast to what it is now. This was the period before the dominant wave of mid-00s minimal took hold, when a curious mixture of Gigolos-powered electroclash and glitchy experimentation met with an emergent wave of DJ/producer ‘personalities’ and the deeply entrenched rigour of Germanic four-to-the-floor. In the midst of this strode Ellen Allien, helming her BPitch Control label as one of the key arbiters of taste through these playful times. This was when Miss Kittin & The Hacker reigned supreme, when Vitalic rocked up in every set from Soulwax to Aphex, and Tiefschwarz were hitting their stride.

In that context, Ellen Allien’s debut album Stadtkind is incredibly redolent of the era. The buzzing sawtooth synth line nipping through ‘Salzee’ triggers a thousand electro house memories, while the clip-clop percussion on ‘Shorty’ has a digital austerity which would be doubled down on as minimal became ever more popular. But there’s also a certain air of restraint on Stadtkind which most of the behemoths of the early 00s didn’t exercise. ‘Wolken Ziehen’ sets its sights on the big room, with anthemic hooks and teasing energy levels matched by bugged out sound design which calls to mind early Trentemøller. However, Allien’s approach isn’t as overcooked, in terms of production as much as composition. An air of cool persists over the track, and it helps the music age much better.

On this repress – the first since the album originally came out – CD-only tracks make a welcome appearance. ‘Send’ is clearly one of the highlights of the whole album, and in its fierce electro makeup it’s curious it was ever left off, but now it enjoys pride of place at the front of the album. It’s the full tilt pressing Stadtkind deserves, clearly pitched towards nostalgic home-listening rather than volume-optimised club play. That said, there’s plenty here which would stand up well in a party today, so don’t rule out slipping those discs into your bag just yet.

OW

Kyoto Jazz Massive – Messages From A New Dawn (Village Again Japan)

Beloved Japanese fusionist duo, Kyoto Jazz Massive, return with their long-awaited sophomore album, ‘Messages From A New Dawn’. Ushered into life in 1994 by brother’s Shuya and Yoshihiro Okino, Kyoto Jazz Massive have released scores of venerated singles on benchmark labels, with the bulk of their output arriving via the Compost Recordings fold. As their name suggests, their musically-rich sound leans heavily into a jazz-rooted aesthetic, blending skilful instrumentation with a crisp, deep house shimmer. Shuya is something of a focal point for the more sophisticated end of Tokyo club culture, operating as a club owner and writer alongside his DJ and production pursuits – which extend to being a member of the Cosmic Village troupe. He and Yoshiro also perform and record as Kyoto Jazz Sextet alongside a handpicked ensemble of talented jazzers, and their work is routinely championed by tastemaker DJs, with Gilles Peterson among their most passionate admirers. Considering the ample catalogue of singles and EP releases the brothers have racked up over the years, it’s perhaps surprising that ‘Messages From A New Dawn’ is only their second studio album recorded under the Kyoto Jazz Massive banner – with their debut ‘Spirit Of The Sun’ LP having arrived way back in 2002.

The collection includes cameos from a selection of talented musicians, including bass virtuoso Kenichi Ikeda, keyboard wizards Kaztake Takeuchi and Takumi Kaneko, trumpeter Tabu Zombie, and vocalist Vanessa Freeman. The ten featured tracks are immaculately constructed, fusing agile jazz instrumentation with contemporary production and a gently floor-focused girth. From the intergalactic charm of opener ‘Astral Ascension’ all the way through to the broken rhythms and unthinkably ornate instrumentation of ‘Eternal Tide’, there’s plenty to enjoy here. Jazz-funk legend Roy Ayres makes a welcome appearance on the entirely rousing future anthem, ‘Get Up’, while vocal leviathan ‘Get It Together’ is no-less stirring. The psyche-tinged synths and splashing drums of ‘Visions Of Tomorrow’ provide some mildly hallucinatory introspection, and the glorious synthwork, delicate pianos and walking bass of ‘Revolution Evolution’ prove utterly invigorating. In a nutshell, the collection is well worth the very lengthy wait.

PC

Space Ghost – Dance Planet (Tartelet)

Deep house is one of those genres which continues to truck on through the decades. The blueprint laid down by Larry Heard, Alton Miller, Blaze and other such totems has been thoroughly echoed ever since the breakthrough years of the mid to late 80s, but there are those who carry the flame with conviction in the face of crass imitators. Sudi Wachspress is one such artist who embodies the spirit of deep house so wholly and purely, it feels pointless and bitter to pick apart his very apparent influences. You could pick a thread through his previous LPs for Tartelet and link it all back to music that came before, but you’d be missing out on the wholesome experience of simply feeling his music.

Slipping into Dance Planet, the remedial benefits of Wachspress’ style are plain to hear. Bathed in sparkling FM keys, underpinned with Lately bass and guided by the Space Ghost himself as a kind of spiritual mentor, this is an album to soothe your soul and lift your mood. That might sound cliché, and indeed the overall approach is not particularly novel, but sometimes the vital role of music is one of comfort and restoration rather than challenge and provocation.

The gentler downtempo cuts, such as low slung funker ‘UFO’ and new age drifter ‘Afterglow’, give you all the backroom cosiness you could ever dream of. There are whiffs of 80s RnB on the likes of ‘Emotional Healer (Backroom Mix)’ and the teasingly slow ‘Be Yourself (Motivational Mix)’. Elsewhere, the dancefloor workouts exude warmth and positivity without fail. In these nostalgic, rose-tinted shades of house it’s as thought Wachspress is prophesising idyllic party experiences you’re yet to have while his immaculate productions pump out over the system. If times are weighing heavy on your mind, Space Ghost has just the tonic to feel better about yourself and the world around you.

OW

Lambchop – I Hope You’re Sitting Down (Merge)

Lambchop don’t get the attention they deserve today. Not that we expect they’re particularly bothered about that — the Nashville band have never really been interested in pandering to the mainstream music industry and its ridiculous, put-you-in-a-box expectations. Hence the reason it took them nearly a decade to deliver this, their debut album, which remains an outright triumph and a benchmark-setting example of alternative country-cum-indie rock and roll.

Also known as Jack’s Tulips, the record first landed in 1994 and within minutes of opener ‘Begin’ it’s pretty clear that these are no debutants. Experience shining through every note and moment of the song, it sets a precedent that thankfully the rest of what’s here more than lives up to. ‘Betweenus’ following up with a classic head nodding stomp and unifying chorus, ‘Bon soir, Bon soir’, taking us into tender, moonlit, string-led serenity, ‘I Will Drive Slowly’ offering a wonderful example of why roots-y country rhythms are always going to make a beeline for the soul. You might not have grown up in Tennessee, or even visited, but with instrumentation and lyrics capable of talking directly to the human condition, it doesn’t matter. 

MH

Siouxsie & The Banshees – Tinderbox (Universal)

By the eighth year of activity, most bands are starting to struggle for inspiration, perhaps stuck in a dead end rut, desperately looking for ideas that could mark a second lease of life. You could argue that Tinderbox, which arrived in 1986 — eight years after Siouxsie & The Banshees’ debut — did look to bring freshness to the oeuvre, but we’re talking an extension of what was already there, which still hadn’t grown old, rather than some knee jerk reinvention in response to declining sales and popularity.

In fact, some would say this was around their peak of popularity, and fans got exactly what they had been looking for. A theatrical, inescapable, dramatic triumph that has all the hallmarks of their gothic post punk roots, but with the vividly coloured pop elements turned up to incredible levels. Deserving of reference in the same breath as work from the likes of Kate Bush around this time, Tinderbox feels like embarking on some great adventure, filled with melancholy, reflection, fear, excitement, passion, sexuality, and innocence. Lyrically and instrumentally astounding, it soars, runs, glides, jumps, and drives through a 12 track epic, offering more proof, if anyone needed it, of how rich the 1980s were.

MH

Ghostpoet – Shedding Skin (PIAS )

There can be no getting beyond the simple fact that Ghostpoet broke the mould with his debut album, Peanut Butter Blues & Melancholy Jam. Nominated for a Mercury Music Prize in 2011, the record was rightly lauded for its refusal to adhere to genre rules, combining elements of trip and hip hop, electronica, jazz, rock, blues, and some other stuff we’re not even sure how to label, it was the kind of first LP where you can’t help but wonder how an artist can possibly follow it up, despite showing so much promise and imagination.

Fear not, though (just in case you were worried) — as the history books now show, Ghostpoet defied the doubters and did deliver a sophomore effort that was arguably even better. Shedding Skin marked his second long form outing and the second time Mercury decided to throw his name into the proverbial hat. Sadly, he didn’t win, but nevertheless the quality at play here was, and remains, nothing short of outstanding. Poetry of the bleakest, bloodiest, and most vulnerable meets hypnotic instrumentation and cunning song craft, resulting in the kind of impact that stops anyone in earshot dead in their tracks, rendering them speechless to the last.

MH

Johnny Cash – Country Boy (Payless)

Another exceptional compilation of decade-spanning work from The Man In Black, what Country Boy fails to add to Cash’s oeuvre in terms of new (or at least previously unheard/unearthed material) it triumphs in the context of celebrating the life of a bonafide musical great. Plenty of anthems are found on the track list, not least ‘I Walk The Line’, perhaps only really made as famous as it is through the biopic movie of the same name, and ‘Folsom Prison Blues’, which positions the artist as a fictional inmate at the eponymous jail, nodding to the famous show he performed at the same correctional facility.

Digressions aside, if there’s one thing records like Country Boy reiterate it’s just how infinitely listenable, repeatable, and re-repeatable Cash’s music is. Yes, we’ve got up close and personal with pretty much everything here more than a few times in the past. But that doesn’t stop it having almost the same impact as the first time we encountered each track. How many other musicians that can be said about is not really clear. Nevertheless, the smart cash would be on very, very few indeed. And yes, that weak pun was indeed shamefully intentional.

MH

The Grateful Dead – Day of the Dead (Pearl Finders)

Where do you start with The Grateful Dead in 2022? Should it be by diving into the storied history of an American rock ’n’ roll band that at once lays claim to one of the most phenomenally respected back catalogues, and most notorious reputations for debauchery? A group that spent so much time on the road it’s any wonder they ever managed to find a way home, or remember where they lived (hence the website, Grateful Dead of the Day — basically a directory of Grateful Dead live recordings for every day of the year), their legacy is packed with the kind of mythology you simply don’t get in any genre of music today.

It might actually be more appropriate, though, to focus purely on the music. And in the case of Day of the Dead, we’re talking a stellar collection of tracks that you could describe as rollocking, rowdy, and packed with heart-on-sleeve passion. Whether you consider yourself a Deadhead — the outfit’s enviably loyal dedicated disciples — or not, there’s no denying the impact both the troupe’s music and attitude had on guitar wielders of all generations, and the timelessness of their staggeringly vast and impressively consistent back catalogue.

MH

This week’s reviewers: Martin Hewitt, Oli Warwick, Patrizio Cavaliere.