‘Boomerangs back into the slashing chords and frenzied double-picking of the Harry Pussy years, tossing the gentler melodic glow of the last few solo records into the dustbin. In other words, this may be Orcutt’s most overtly punk-rockist record since Gerty Loves Pussy, his first solo electric LP from a decade ago. It’s an affirmation that Orcutt is above all a lead player—angular runs scaling the heavens, ricocheting back to ground zero before climbing again. Orcutt builds tension with short phrases, repeated with slight variability until it seems like they’ll never stop, finally slamming into a fresh line like the dawning valley at the crest of the mountain pass. Another Perfect Day is, ultimately, something of a solo guitar Nouveau Roman, an exhilarating run through melodic reiteration, impossible crescendos (check out those ecstatic crowd hoots on For the Drainers) breaking into—a moment rarely found on an Orcutt record—soft, whisper-quiet tracer notes at the end of A Natural Death. Another Perfect Day returns Orcutt to the immediacy of his earliest records while maintaining the melodic complexity, phrasing, and flow of a player, who’s been going, what—four-plus decades now? And when he taps his roots, it’s a reminder of exactly what was so exciting about Orcutt’s playing in the first place.’

‘Pure machine soul for late-night heads.’

‘Based in the south of France, Beduneau builds intricate self-playing installations and DIY electronics. Bringing a fresh and personal perspective to electronic and electroacoustic music, his work is intent on opening up dialogues about the social construction of disability, and other norms and conventions.
‘‘Clairon’ refers both to a medieval trumpet and to the beloved with whom this music was first shared, as a kind of impressionistic, though deeply moving sound-diary, during the stillness of the pandemic. The movement of air, pressure, resonance, and the physical properties of the trumpet are reimagined; organic ASMR tones, synthesized bird calls, and pirouetting melodies of pipes and bells score an imaginary biodome where chaos and harmony coexist.
‘Striking, singular, and boundary-pushing.’

Bringing together two generations of South African guitar mastery: Madala Kunene, ‘King of the Zulu Guitar’, now in his mid-seventies, and his protege Sibusile Xaba, whose playing interweaves multiple South African guitar lineages in an original, spiritualised fusion.
Recorded in Zululand in the town of Utrecht, at a cultural centre called Kwantu Village. “It’s such a broad word, but the elders teach us that Ntu is basically an energy, almost chi, an energy, a force that all living beings have within them. It’s a living energy, so kwaNTU is almost the place of this energy.”

‘A beautifully expansive collection of interweaving, finger-picked melody, husky vocalisations from elder Kunene and thrumming hand percussion’ (The Guardian).

‘Eleven pieces recorded over the past year, moving between the small town of Alfred in upstate New York, and Beirut; stepping out, as if onto ice, into a new life on a new continent during a time of tragedy, turmoil, and upheaval.
‘Unfamiliar instruments, new materials and new sounds delicately build on Yara’s intimate style, with its backbone of homemade mechanical music boxes and personal archive of family recordings. She explores the peculiar resonance of the metallophone, and delves into her collection of deconstructed toy pianos, guiding her music into ever more surreal territories… dreamlike, fragile, fragmentary, and strangely timeless.’

Last couple of copies… and we can’t get more.

In-a-state TWENTY-EIGHT original Upsetters here.
All mint or near enough; labels as pictured.
This one is prime Dennis Alcapone.

Romping-stomping, fuck-this-shit, soulful Detroit house.
Fervently animated by the spirit of Prince, Aaron Carl’s remix is double trouble.

‘In 1978, SA guitar genius Tabane stood at a crossroads. Fresh from three years’ touring in the United States, where he graced the Newport Jazz Festival alongside Miles, Herbie, Pharoah and co, and with a newly signed international distribution deal, he harnessed this momentum to a new, larger band setting, capturing a rare intensity.
‘Sangoma — ‘spiritual healer — bridges contradictions: expansive yet intimate, celebratory yet haunted by exile and return. Tracks like Sangoma, Hi Congo and Keya Bereka are not simply recordings but living testaments, songs that would remain in Tabane’s repertoire for decades. Unlike the moody, immersive character of much of his work, here Tabane is on the move — urgent, restless, uncontainable. ‘Maskanta wa tsamaya’, ‘ass-kicking’.
‘More than four decades on, Sangoma is both an historical document and a timeless invocation. A landmark in SA musical history. From his home in Mamelodi to the world and back again, Tabane’s spiritual healing endures — raw, electric, and unbowed.’