Reekee
Sunshine

Keith Tucker of Aux88 keeping it fresh for 2020 with the tightest Electro sound. More to come from Direct Beat & Puzzle Box!We get it direct from the source so stay tuned for more.

After excursions into leftfield disco and folk-jazz meditations, Vhassal is Prins Emanuel’s third longplayer. Whereas his first lp oozed youthful carelessness and euphoria and the second one takes on a more visceral note, this album breathes hope and sentimentality. It will come as no surprise that the part time fruit picker from Malmö became a father in the meantime.Still, Vhassal feels like a natural follow-up to predecessor Diagonal Musik. Essentially, it’s minimalism with plenty of surprises and the album showcases a delicate mix of instrumental proficiency and a keen sense of space. The medieval dance tempos are garnished with drum computers, and despite the synthetic sounds of the machines, all the songs have a very intuitive and organic feel, striking in some way as a culmination of PE’s previous albums.'Vaffan Sparks Du...' opens with a repetitive knock on the door, after which a drum machine driven lullaby creeps through the cracks. It’s fragile, wispy, enchanting and a definite moodsetter: this is sentimental adult music, in true Jj funhouse fashion. And so is 'Vhassal', a delicate, dubby trip that swirls through the room like a laser through smoke. The baroque, cloistral atmosphere is so thick that you can actually taste the smoke. 'Lazarus O’ E' closes off the A-side with icy foghorns. Is this a medieval lament or a hymn to sprouting snowdrops in a wintery landscape? We’re not sure, but if the Titanic houseband had synthesizers, this is probably what they would’ve sounded like.Side B kicks off in a more cheerful way with 'Vhist', a searing sliver of goosebump melancholia with beautifully bent robotic whistling. 'Girra' sounds like an instrumental lifted off some Estonian children’s choir 7” on Melodiya. It’s a deceivingly simple ditty with a far-off romantic sound that seems to reach euphoria, but then rapidly declines. 'Saker Som Sagts Och Gjorts' irrevocably shakes off the negative feelings by filtering the sound of a summery moonlit night in the French Provence through your speakers. It’s an apt prequel to the closing track, for which you should dim the lights, peak through the blinds and lay back in your ultimate easy chair. 'Principen' is the perfect soundtrack to sip a final scotch, whistle along and shed a tear to yesterday. A better future lies ahead, somewhere.

Domestic Exile warmly welcome the return of Grim Lusk, coming full circle to follow up 2018’s ‘SUNP0101’ after releasing under their Dip Friso and Sunny Balm aliases in the interim. ‘Diving Pool’ is a hallucinogenic concoction of marshy, aquatic, oscillated dubs and skittering, microtonal beat experiments. Grim Lusk's signature production style is in full effect, often occupying some liminal space nearing offbeat discordancy, but beautifully pulling together on the brink. Gelatinous machine funk rhythms and sweet, syrupy dub bass ooozing with a vibrant convergence of bright psychedelic greens, yellows and oranges, akin to bubbling sulphur pools and lava lakes, are present throughout the 6 tracks; Nuovo takes late 80’s drum machine patterns and twists them up with rough-cut vocal chops and long-form sampling of a 60’s film on the first iteration of ‘​​Il Gruppo”. Striding into the turbulent sea, Partans is kept jovial by rim shots, cymbals and snares fed back over the forward bass buzz. Not Enough is a bizarre, primordial, stretched-out gloop sludge half-speed version of the B-side track Too Much, twisted into new rhythmic territory by an off-kilter breakbeat sample. Diving Pool takes crushed, bouncing drum machines and loop-focussed experimentation to find incidental interplay between the two, whilst somehow retaining ebullient make-you-movable gusto. Angular rhythm and zealous sample manipulation seep through in Too Much, live drums patched, extrapolated and pulled further out in the mix, where jump cuts between familiar vocal chops and distorted tape delay contort manically- a warped, swinging echo of Slum Village's ‘I Don’t Know’. Wazoo rounds things out with the most club-leaning moment of the record, a saturated, throbbing atmosphere hanging over a beat-up, lurching drum sample layered with malleable pitched percussion and fuzz guitar. Peculiar shapes, fragmented shards of rhythmic patterns, crushed, crystallised snares, and congealed, jelly-like dubs; the music embodies a sense of carefree fun and playfulness, where dissolving layers of organic echoes, warm, slippery reverbs, and expansive phaser EFX stretch out into nebulous space…

2021 re-issue, 180g vinyl, remastered audio from the original tapes.They Say: “Contemporary scores for visual effect”. We say: Synth-heavy, low-slung space-funk masterpiece. The creator of the romping tunes that became the iconic themes to the BBC’s Grandstand programme and their televised Wimbledon Tennis Championship coverage, Keith Mansfield was perhaps KPM’s most prolific artist from the mid 1960s right the way through the 1980s. As well as the sort of pop orchestral sound that is all over these classic library records, he could also turn his hand to raw, edgy rock and funk. Quentin Tarantino is a big fan, going as far as including some of Keith’s work on the soundtracks to Kill Bill and Grindhouse. This is it. This is THE ONE for us: Keith “The Man” Mansfield’s Vivid Underscores from 1977. A sample freak’s wet dream and one of Be With Rob’s favourite ever KPM records. A must for fans of Brian Bennett’s Voyage (yes, THAT good). And no, we’ve no idea either why it took us this long to get round to tackling this monster of a record. But then again some things are worth waiting for. Attention! Calling all crate diggers, DJs, beat heads, Hip Hop junkies, MF DOOM fans! Behold! Vivid Underscores makes sampling easy. Prepare to be up all night, every night, chopping, looping and splicing these endless grooves and spacey synths.

Economy of Love by The Pink Noise