With Your Wilderness, Bruce Soord's the Pineapple Thief shift their musical focus away from their exploration of polished rock so evident on 2012's All the Wars and 2014's Magnolia, and back toward contemporary prog. Drummer Dan Osborne, who made his debut with the band on Magnolia, proved short-lived in his role; he has been replaced by Porcupine Tree/King Crimson kit man Gavin Harrison. Soord also enlisted guests including Supertramp's John Helliwell on clarinet, Caravan's string player/arranger Geoffrey Richardson, Godsticks' guitarist Darran Charles, and a four-voice choir. Harrison's addition can't be overstated. His playing extends the reach of their musicality exponentially.
The album title denotes themes of isolation, loneliness, and alienation - not unfamiliar ones in PT's oeuvre. That said, they've never been explored with such a brooding focus as they are here…
In 1972, one of Jamaica's most popular and successful singers, John Holt, teamed up with British-born record producer, Tony Ashfield to create a style of reggae aimed at appealing to music listeners of all ages and colours throughout the world. By combining Jamaican rhythms with sophisticated western arrangements, the pair succeeded in their aim, producing an album that exceeded all expectations. ‘The Further You Look’ set the standard for what later became widely known as ‘pop reggae’ and quickly became a must-have album for a broad spectrum of record buyers, selling in vast numbers amongst both black and white communities.
Back when he released High Top Mountain in 2013, the retro sensibilities of Sturgill Simpson seemed to be rooted solely in outlaw country: he swaggered like the second coming of Waylon Jennings, a man on a mission to restore muscle and drama to country music. Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, his 2014 sophomore set, was a curve ball revealing just how unorthodox his rulebook was. After nearly two decades of alternative country doubling down on po-faced authenticity where simpler was better, Simpson embraced indulgence, pushing new wave, psychedelia, and digital-age saturation, all in an attempt to add the cosmic back into American music.
By all rights, the album that came to be known as Big Star's Third should have been a disaster. It was written and recorded in 1975, when Alex Chilton's brilliant but tragically overlooked band had all but broken up. As Chilton pondered his next move, he was drinking and drugging at a furious pace while writing a handful of striking tunes that were often beautiful but also reflected his bitterness and frustration with his career (and the music business in general). Production of the album wasn't completed so much as it simply stopped, and none of the major figures involved ever decided on a proper sequence for the finished songs, or even a title. (The album was also known as Sister Lovers and Beale Street Green at various times.) And yet, Third has won a passionate and richly deserved cult following over the years, drawn in by the emotional roller coaster ride of the songs, informed by equal parts love, loss, rage, fear, hope, and defeat.
A document of a 2012 Japanese solo recital – not only the last in his homeland but the last anywhere – by idiosyncratic improviser Masabumi Kikuchi (1939-2015). One of the uncategorisable greats, Kikuchi occupied his own musical universe and in his final years was quietly and systematically severing his ties to jazz, drifting instead towards what he called ‘floating sound and harmonies’, introspective and poetic improvisations. Song forms still sometimes materialized. Kikuchi revisits “Little Abi”, a ballad for his daughter, which the pianist once recorded with Elvin Jones. And there is a surprising and very touching version of the wistfully yearning theme from the 1959 Brazilian film Black Orpheus.
Even if he had recorded a second album, Joey Scarbury would forever be known as the guy who sang "Theme from Greatest American Hero (Believe It or Not)." That tune was one of the last great TV themes with a vocal – and a vocal that told a narrative, as well – which would have made it enough of a novelty hit on its own, but it was also one of the great soft rock singles of the early '80s, lushly produced but never grandiose and boasting a killer, anthemic hook on its soaring chorus. It was a song that stuck around in your head for years after you heard it, the kind of song that was so good it would have overshadowed anything else Scarbury attempted to do in its wake.
With the distinct ethnic-driven sound of Deep Forest, Eric Mouquet belongs to the few unique pioneers of electronic music. His highly recognizable sounds defined the concept of world music and shaped the all-new sound of ethnic-electronica. Deep Forest’s latest releases include Deep Brasil, Deep Africa and Deep India where Eric Mouquet explores the unique musical expressions of some exciting cultures.
On his new album “Evo Devo” Eric Mouquet has gone even further - and nevertheless simultaneously back to the “bohemian feel” of his early works. His tonal craftsmanship has developed into an own artistic language. Every track explores a distinct emotion. You can almost feel and follow Eric’s inner motivations and share his musical journey to the frontiers of contemporary electronic music and beyond.