Telephone Explosion Vinyl, CD & Tape 36 Items

The mesmerizing debut LP by Nova Scotia’s Quilting on October 7, 2022. The album is a quietly stunning collection of pastoral ambience dotted with moments of tension that reflects the maritime environment in which it was created, inadvertently paying homage to the light and darkness of rural life.

Co-founded by Holy Fuck’s Brian Borcherdt, the quartet is comprised of a diverse and accomplished collection of musicians who came together when he moved back to his home province in 2019 after a lengthy stay in Toronto.

The shock of settling into a town of 600 people was softened almost immediately by a care package left on Borcherdt’s front porch. It included the curious juxtaposition of homemade preserves and a circuit-bent keyboard. His interest was piqued. As luck would have it, his new neighbour happened to be renowned folk guitarist Kim Barlow.

“Kim was in the process of organizing an improvisation series featuring over a dozen Nova Scotia-based musicians. The series struggled under lockdown restrictions, and on the second attempt only the four of us showed up.” Borcherdt recalls. “We didn't really know each other that well, were a bit shy and played very quietly. However, we really enjoyed how spacious our jam was.”

One week after their initial jam, Borcherdt was invited to perform a solo set at a Halifax-based experimental festival called Open Waters. He instead volunteered the same lineup: himself, Barlow, distinguished Isle Of Skye harpist (and Berklee professor) Mairi Chaimbeul, and Sahara Nasr, a noted songwriter and player of the rare Indian Sarangi. It wasn’t long before they began recording and soon realized a name was necessary to make the project official.

“When we get together to play music, it's our 'poker night'. That led us to think of other community or 'grown-up' gatherings, similar or antiquated... like barnraising bees, quilting bees.” Explains Borcherdt. “We were sort of quilting: four corners of fabric, texture, sewing threads, telling a story, all making one complete piece while drinking a few beers. We could've also called it ‘Therapy’.”

While providing a necessary distraction from early-COVID life, Quilting also offered a chance to improvise within a uniquely ambient soundspace. This was a welcome change for some of the members, including Borcherdt, who was used to creating music with decidedly more volume.

“Space is welcome. Writing in Quilting is a spontaneous and thoughtful process, very synesthetic and, of course, collaborative. I've only really gotten to explore space and silence with solo music.” He reflects. “With my other bands, even when spontaneous and improvised, the result is dense and cathartic, expressive through pulse and rhythm and volume. With Quilting we get to drift, no beats, no safety net. Every note counts. Yet rather than being stressed or scrutinized under a microscope we all have fun and daydream a bit.”

Sonics aside, Quilting has also given all four members the chance to experiment with the boundaries created by headquartering in a remote area not commonly associated with the avant-garde music community.

“Nova Scotia, unlike other provinces, has basically one city, one place where musicians congregate, play shows and hang out. Anything happening outside of Halifax can be considered an experiment, a test to see anything can get off the ground.” Borcherdt explains. “ In Toronto there's already an infrastructure, whether you play the same venues or build your own new thing- there's an audience, there are friends and like-minded individuals. It's healthier. Here we have to take what we get. But the good news is that it's kind of a blank slate.”

The LP, which features hand-calligraphed cover art from Upstate New York-based artist and musician Sarah Le Puerta, features five songs all recorded live off-the-floor in a single live performance. Moods range from reflective to unsettled, and even at its loudest parts a sense of intimacy persists.

“This album feels like a complete picture, a snapshot of one fun night.” He states. “That seems to me to be a perfect introduction. The listener gets to “attend” the concert, which is an amazing way to discover new music.”

First time ever on vinyl Quiet Music is a collection of pieces created by Steve Roach between 1983 and 1986 in respect for silence. The gentle 603s of Roach's synthesizers mix with flute, electric piano and nature sounds flow like breath, enveloping the listener in a sustained, delicate and translucent atmosphere. Quiet Music was originally released as a three tape cassette series in 1986 on Fortuna Records and is now being issued as a complete series on vinyl for the first time ever.



After Structures From Silence was released, Steve was receiving invitations to create music for the emerging meditation yoga and healing arts community in Los Angeles. Quiet Music 1 was originally commissioned for a meditation video, which featured a collection of video images of lush forested areas, wild flowers and natural serenity. But by the time the piece was completed the producer passed away and the project was never completed. Quiet Music 1’s direct connection to a distinct environment set the tone for the trilogy of albums. Quiet Music 2 was inspired by Steve spending a lot of time in deserts and was created as a natural progression from Structures From Silence, and the more nocturnal feeling of Quiet Music 3 were pieces designed for Steve’s personal healing practices.



The Quiet Music series was released in a timeline that is often seen as linear but this music was created directly along side the dynamic fully 603 albums like Now, Traveler, and Empetus. In the early 80’s Steve would be shifting between the invigorating sequencer-percussive driven music and then move directly into weightless drifts and contemplative spaces. This way of creating grew naturally out of a desire to not settle into one place sonically and to nourish himself with a space that could be creative and fine tuned, creating a calm and renewing zone while living within the hectic pace of urban life in Los

Angeles.

Tony Price returns to Telephone Explosion Records with the new "Hit Piece" LP. The album is his first full-length since his 2022 release, "ibm CONTRA," on L.I.E.S. Records, and the follow-up to the "Bail Bonds" EP on his Maximum Exposure imprint in May 2023. In stark contrast to the expansive cybernetics of "ibm CONTRA," "Hit Piece" features 11 dancefloor-ready cuts that are crude, rude, immediate, and unrefined. There are no lofty intentions or concepts here; this is music about action and movement. Eschewing the narrative-driven structures of his previous albums, Tony shifts his focus to the groove, reducing dance music to its rawest textures and core principles. With this project, he unites jackin' house rhythms, early hip-hop bombast, and the hydraulic drive of Motor City funk with a punk rock immediacy and abrasiveness that recalls pre-robot Daft Punk, Todd Terry, Dance Mania, and his L.I.E.S. label mate Delroy Edwards.

With Cruisin', their second album for Telephone Explosion, Toronto's Bernice distils their playful sense of composition resulting in the most affecting collection of their young career. Across fifteen tracks, a special kind of contemporary, jazz-inflected pop unfolds, miraculous for being both fun and musically adventurous, all in the name of emotional resonance. Each groove in the bassbin is matched by a little scratch at the listener's heartstrings. The album was recorded at home with Phil Melanson (Sam Gendel, Andy Shauf) and Thom Gill (Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Joseph Shabason), led by songwriter and vocalist Robin Dann (Martha Wainwright) and producer Matthew Pencer, with additional contributions from longtime members Dan Fortin and Felicity Williams (Bahamas) being captured remotely.

Throughout their eleven years as a group, working at the intersections of several scenes and spotlights (many of which begin and end at Toronto's beloved Tranzac Club), Bernice have developed an idiosyncratic musical language that feels immediately inviting and wonderfully refreshing. The group's two previous releases, Eau De Bonjourno (2021) and Puff: In The Air Without A Shape (2018) received generous nods from both Stereogum and Pitchfork, who described the music as "unusually mesmerizing". With the songcraft a little more crystalline and the vulnerability notched up, Cruisin' feels like the right record to open Bernice up to a much wider audience.

Development of the album began in Spring, 2021 during a writing retreat at the family farm in Bond Head, Ontario. Members of the band luxuriated in slow time, tinkering with lyrics and melodies, sharing meals, knitting. From this communal gathering, the concept of 'dedication' emerged as a guiding theme. Specifically, developing songs in an almost epistolary form; as love letters or check-ins for friends, community members, pets and other more elusive acquaintances (a longtime working title for the project was 'Songs For People').

Lead single 'Underneath My Toe', one of the first pieces developed under this theme, finds the group at their most graceful and direct. Beginning with songwriter/vocalist Robin Dann singing simply 'Hi / I miss you all the time', the composition proceeds to shift subtly between soft jazz balladry and low-bit funk, revelling in the intimate beauty of a long-time-no-see letter to a dear old friend.

Though being a band that so deeply values the art of fartin' around, Bernice couldn't settle on such a straightforward approach. During the creative process, a clarifying question arose: 'Can you cruise to it?'. This somewhat ambiguous aesthetic criteria became a guiding light for the album. 'Sure, it's a beautiful song about building trust with a new nonagenarian friend... but can you cruise to it?'.

Case in point, both follow up singles, 'No Effort To Exist' and 'Second Judy', fall into a more nebulous, bewildering category of song. Undoubtedly affecting, emotionally charged, existentially searching, yet also undeniably juicy. Drum patterns skitter into place while synth tones shift on a dime to meet thematic twists. There's errant whistling and curious overdubs. Then in come elegant backing vocals, elevating the narrative while an unlikely, left-field groove is established. Miraculously, the listener is not just moved, but Cruisin'.

Therein lies the marvel of Bernice: they remind us that the rec room funk of Mario Kart 64 need not exist in mutual exclusivity to a rich tapestry of human emotions. Even as we live through this most cursed timeline, we can look into the heart of things, dwell on the challenges we're called to witness, and find a little levity to carry us through; grab a lil' mushroom and cruise the existential soup.

Telephone Explosion proudly presents the self-titled debut LP from Toronto’s UH HUH, out physically and digitally on April 14, 2023. The album features eight tracks of dub-damaged art rock which conjure a potent vision of spaced-out 1980s post-punks feeding their angular rhythms and bass-heavy grooves through layer upon layer of grime-spattered spring reverb.

There is a palpable sense of discovery and exploration throughout UH HUH’s 37 heady minutes. Elastic basslines and serpentine guitar phrases throb and glide, cutting through dubwise reverberations like hands moving through an opaque cloud of reefer smoke.

Formerly known as Teenanger, the reconfigured (and reinvigorated) group’s newfound sense of sonic identity is put on display the moment the door kicks open. The percolating spaciousness of opener “Somewhere Beyond” is followed by the cyclical grooves of “Redemption Pause.” Vocalists Christopher Swimmings and Melissa Ball each take respective turns at lead vocal duties, showcasing their contrasting yet complimentary styles.

“Babylon”, a slab of overcast, loping funk features both singers on the same track, alternating between Swimmings’ stoned syncopation and Ball’s saccharine melancholy. This juxtaposition leans against a backdrop of reverb-soaked drums, watery guitar chords and rippling trumpet.

The slinking, fractured grooves of “Rain (In The Afternoon)” and “Citrus Song” call to mind the deranged minimal dub-wave of Naffi or Vivien Goldman. Both songs feature lyrical content heavily inspired by the Florida swamplands, although the aural landscape on these tracks is decidedly more brutalist than Boca Raton. Two of the songs included here are reworkings of previously released Teenanger numbers. “Blinds Drawn” is reduced to its core elements of bottom-heavy rhythm, spliced guitar shanks and Swimmings’ murmured ruminations. “Good, You”, on the other hand, is completely re-imagined as a blissed-out melt of opiated bossa nova.

After countless hours of experimentation during the album’s recording sessions at Toronto’s Studio Z, the band decided to send their drum machines, snare drums and percussion through an obscure 1960’s Japanese Guyatone guitar amp with a notoriously ecstatic spring reverb sound. The result was immediately inspiring.

The dank, busted and clanking tones produced by the Guyatone evoke a muggy, humid atmosphere that mimics the photo on UH HUH’s cover. The process of re-amping is literally the means through which UH HUH found the sound of this record. UH HUH is a record that asks more questions than it does provide answers. This is searching music that requires that the listener lean into it, the more time you spend in between the beats, bars, notes contained within, the more vivid the picture becomes.

Toronto’s Dan Lee steps out of the spotlight and into the producer’s chair on the new collaborative Lee Paradise LP, Lee Paradise & Co., due October 28 2022 on Telephone Explosion. Lee Paradise & Co. follows 2020’s critically acclaimed The Fink LP, and finds Lee flipping the shadowy nihilism of the project’s previous releases upward into a sort of cybernetic universality. This is Dan Lee in producer mode, veering away from the pursuit of a singular musical direction rooted in personal vision, towards of a process rich in collaboration, emotional expansion and tonal exploration.

Starting off as a set of mood-focusedinstrumental sketches drafted by Dan on his own, the compositions began coloringthemselves in after he started sending the tracks out to collaborators, asking them to contribute without much in the way of direction or intention. With help from an ensemble cast of artists including Carlyn Bezic (Jane Inc.), Jonathan Pappo (Scott Hardware, No Frills, Ducks Ltd), Scott Hardware, Isla Craig, Victoria Cheong (New Chance), Jay Anderson, Charise Aragoza & Lukas Cheung (Mother Tongues) and Daniel Woodhead (Moon King), nearly every aspect of this album’s creation eventually became open to collaboration, from musical performances, lyric writing, and vocals all the way through to mixing and mastering.

Sonically, the record is still unmistakably Lee Paradise: a widescreen polyrhythmic psychedelia that melts, bubbles, whirrs and klanks; the sound of the human and the machine grooving in accordance towards new futures. The album’s sonic palette is at once synthetic, warm and extraterrestrial. Arpeggiated square wave melodies dance in lockstep with crunching hi-hats, digital bells and chimes fall like crystal rain in stereo above plush pads and gurgling bass figures. Used to finishing the records on his own, Lee mixed this album with Montreal’s Asher Gould-Murtagh and the results are spacious, dusty and dubbed out. “Carnival” sets the scene with it’s stuttering, busted funk groove and ribbons of aqueous vocal harmony from New Chance’s Victoria Cheong. “Raffles”(featuring one of Daniel’s two vocal performances on the record) radiates a mellow optimism in its solar-warped balearic bliss. The album’s final track, “Youngish” is a gliding, melancholic downtempo instrumental thumper saturated in a kaleidoscopic array of lysergic tones. As always, the record anchors itself to the dancefloor with the screwed-down electro of “Cement”, the swinging midnight afterglow of “Leaving” and “CS2X”’s fluttering rave arpeggios.

Lee Paradise & Co. is the sound of an expert producer and sound sculptor conceding to the elusive flows of inspiration, knocking genre conventions askew and hopscotching between a variety of styles, musical identities and sound worlds with absolute panache.

Ingredient is the elegant collaboration of Toronto poets, composers, producers and dear friends Ian Daniel Kehoe and Luka Kuplowsky. Their self-titled release is an enigmatic electronic avant-pop record attuned to the micro and macro perspectives of the natural world. Ingredient is an album whose lyrics are more poem than lyric, and whose songs exist in a merger of house music, philosophically-minded lyricism and contemporary R&B. One might recall electronic and art-pop luminaries such as Yukihiro Takahashi, The Blue Nile, and Arthur Russell, or connect it to contemporaries like Nite Jewel, Westerman and Blood Orange. A distinct world of dance, of questions, of secrecy and ultimate softness.

Eight years of friendship forges strange telepathy.

In the summer of 2020, Ian Daniel Kehoe was entrenched in a new feeling of heaviness; psychosomatic symptoms had started to proliferate; stress made new pores across the body, bending sensitivity into pain. His days were met with confusion, detachment, sleeplessness and pain without causation. Disfigured, he felt that what had been central and centering was blown out to the periphery of things. In a moment of self-preservation he reached out to his dear friend Luka Kuplowsky to make an album together. For Kehoe, it was an instinctual grasp for the anchoring truthfulness of deep friendship and the potential for a dedicated creative collaboration. Kuplowsky’s presence was light, supportful and curious, eager to explore musically the sounds they were mutually drawn to: house music, ambient pop, dub. The duality between Kuplowsky and Kehoe – between the Aflight and the Unmoored – is a portrait of a friendship whose exchanges came easy and produced an outpouring of song. Creation and therapy crisscross. In email correspondence that catalogs their process of collaboration, affection abounds: “feels bare without the Luka Licks”, or “Love you so much”, or “Kinda just overwhelmed with deadliness coming in at all angles.” When their voices first come in together on “Wolf,” that harmony arrives in a dramatic avant-pop sound that is bold and wondrous.

Kuplowsky and Kehoe both arrive at Ingredient as established artists whose works are committed to language’s propensity to provoke and mystify. Kuplowsky’s 2020 album Stardust is an idiosyncratic and otherworldly blend of pop and jazz romanticism grounded by Cohen-esque vocals and a stirring philosophical curiosity. Kehoe’s entrance into the new decade has hatched four records of pop experimentation, most recently 2022’s Yes Very So, a euphoric and bold album of poetic synth-pop and meditative ambient instrumentals. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s union as Ingredient is a beautiful and unusual chemistry that integrates their distinct approaches while bringing forth a newness: a sound that alternates between cinematic technicolor and dubbed out fogginess; a lyricism that exchanges their lucid and clear poetics for a playful and obtuse verse. The album intuitively taps into the opposing emotional states of Kuplowsky and Kehoe during the conception of the record, contrasting the buoyancy of trumpeting keyboards (“Resurface”), angelic synthesized voices (“Come”), and rolling bass (“Photo”) with the record’s underlying darkness of whirring buzzsaw textures (“Transmission”), whooping sirens (“Wolf”) and murky ambience (“Illumination”). Lyrically, this duality arises in the record’s flux between openness (“Variation”, “Raindrop”) and existential dread (“Wolf”). “Illumination” most clearly crystalizes this opposition, reconciling the verses’ neurotic yearning for enlightenment with the chorus’ liberating doctrine of negation: “no more devotion… no more delusion”. Amidst the gradations of light and dark, Kuplowsky and Kehoe trade indelible, lush melodies as though their voices are made of a substance that melts easily one into the other. The harmony of poetry, sound, and texture cuts through your brain fog like a wet diamond.

Ingredient’s self-titled record was assembled by Kuplowsky and Kehoe over the course of six months in a home studio they frequented daily. Amidst synthesizers and drum machines they composed, re-composed, and workshopped a wide array of music, ultimately focusing on a set of eight songs that lived in a shared musical and philosophical world. Recording days often ended in basketball games at a local court or a rooftop commune over a pot of tulsi tea and a crossword puzzle. Kuplowsky brought in the Blue Cliff Record – the classic anthology of Chan Buddhism – whose inscrutable and sublime insights remained constant throughout the recording process as an activator of reorientation and reflection. While Kehoe was frequently rendered physically immobile by bouts of anxiety, a patience and mutual caring governed the pace of their creation; rest, stretching and meditation became equally important as the act of arrangement. Invited into their intimate circle of composition was Thom Gill, whose heavenly voice uplifts “Variation” and “Raindrop,” and Karen Ng, whose alto sax simmers and dances around the funky strut of “Raindrop.”

The lyrics on Ingredient reflect the persistence of change, the infinite variability of nature where randomness and divergence are no accidents. In Daoism, duality, in the form of Yin and Yang, is not contradictory as it is in Western idealist philosophy, but rather composes the eternal and lived paradox of our changeless-changing universe: changeless because all is change, and changing because the dynamism of the Dao makes each moment transformational. Kuplowsky and Kehoe refract this way of seeing the world, as in Variation: “Variation in the natural world / there it is.” Ingredient is an experience of the manifold ways of saying there it is of the transformational world, and there it is, unfolding. Elsewhere, change and ephemerality is addressed through the record’s preoccupation with non-human perspectives, reorienting the listener to the wolf, the mouse, the emerald frog, the centipede, the bird, the fly in the lamp. The album cover visualizes this fascination with the striking image of a reddish-orange frog atop a defamiliarized landscape of dark green leaves. Mirroring the exploratory process of the record’s collaboration, the frog also signals the amphibian’s natural inclination to leap into boundless potential. Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s lyrics manifest philosopher and ecologist Timothy Morton’s concept of “the mesh,” drawing attention to the “vast, entangled web” of interconnectedness that connects all life forms and interweaving the songwriters’ shared wonder into the Animal’s unknowability. As Luka narrates in the breakdown of the dance-floor ready “Photo,” “the closer we observe things, the further they retreat into abstraction.” In Ingredient’s ecosystem, perception is a reversible fractal where the world’s minutest details mirror the shape of the cosmos.

According to the Dao, the path to healing starts by reorienting perception away from the self and toward the self’s subsumption in Totality. For Kehoe, collaborating with Kuplowsky became the reorientation necessary for the self-preservation he was seeking, opening up a shared creative practice to navigate and soften the complexity of his psychological shattering. The album begins with Kuplowsky intoning “colossal faith” which bounces around the stereo field in a cloud of echo, and it is the enormity of “faith” that centers both Kuplowsky and Kehoe’s collaboration and their inquisitiveness in the vast mysteries of our very being. Truth in Ingredient is not an essential nugget, but a bending of the light – it is the equivocal entanglement of how we are in nature as nature, but with a plea or prayer under our breath that marks our felt distance from what we are a part of: “carry me towards the mountains of my birth / returning to the nest / the silence of the earth.”

The Badge Époque Ensemble return to Telephone Explosion Records with a new LP, Clouds of Joy. Featuring three vocal-led compositions, three instrumentals and three choral arrangements, this new album presents the Ensemble’s most ambitious, mature and engaging material to date. Clouds represents a shift from the group’s previous sonic excursions into the worlds of vintage soundtrack grooves and early electric jazz towards a more era-ambiguous, complex and all-encompassing approach to arrangement & production.

Undergoing a major shift of consciousness upon learning that he was expecting twins, BÉE leader Maximilian ‘Twig’ Turnbull found the spark to initiate the album within his reflections upon the nature of human joy. This shift in mindset also helped shape the record from an operational standpoint: Turnbull stepped away from his fixture on keys, leaving all of the musical performance on this record to his cast of collaborators. With Max assuming a more “directorial” approach to production and arrangement à la Barry White, David Axelrod, or Fagen & Becker, this album finds the Badge Époque Ensemble in its most collaborative mode to date. Vocalists Dorothea Paas, James Bailey and guitarist Chris Bezant all have co-writing credits here with Bezant contributing significantly to three compositions, including the album’s title track. The album was mixed collaboratively as well, as another joint effort between Turnbull, Steve Chahley and Tony Price, a trio who have teamed up behind the mixing desk for all previous BÉE albums, as well as U.S. Girls’ Heavy Light LP.

For the most part, the Ensemble on this record is made up of names familiar to anyone following the Badge cosmology: drummer Jay Anderson, bassist Gio Rosati, flautist Alia O’Brien, saxophonist Karen Ng, percussionist Ed Squires and guitarist Chris Bezant, with the new addition of young jazz pianist Edwin De Goeij, a perfect surrogate for Turnbull’s ideas on keys. (This in-demand collection of musicians represent a scattering of key cogs from a clutch of other premium Canadian exports; The Weather Station, Andy Shauf, U.S. Girls & Marker Starling). Clouds’ emphasis on the sound of the human voice finds its perfect outlet in vocal arrangements by labelmate Dorothea Paas and a return from lead vocalist James Baley. Their contributions find compliment by a choir composed of session vocalists, (including singers from Bernice and Bonjay) who come together to provide a series of show-stopping harmonic acrobatics.

Familiar Badge motifs are present through this album’s nine tracks: extended sections of dusty drum & conga breaks, swirling saxophone and flute flourishes, fleet-fingered guitar excursions, hazy Rhodes chords and lashing Clavinet stabs, but where Clouds excels is in its ability to weave tremendous vocal performances and choral arrangements into its dense tapestry of sound. The lilting melodies and multidimensional harmonies on tracks “Conspiring With Nature” and “All Same 2 Each, Each Same 2 All” bear the hallmarks of late sixties baroque AM-radio pop, while James Baley’s ecstatic, Stevie-esque lead vocal performance on “Zodiac” could light up the midnight sky, turning a nearly eight minute jazz-funk instrumental odyssey into a sure-shot dancefloor hit. Lyrically, Turnbull’s interest in an aphoristic spiritual mysticism condenses reflections on the complexity of human emotion into bold, succinct phrases, a quality most clearly communicated on the album’s three choral pieces, “The Greatest Joy”, “Let Breath Be The Sum”, and “Joy Flows” (upon first hearing these works Turnbull’s partner Meg Remy remarked that they sounded like “radio hits on the planet Dune”).

Clouds of Joy comes serendipitously as catalog number Ter0100 - the hundredth release for Telephone Explosion, the rapidly burgeoning Toronto label. It is the group’s third proper full length of five total releases for the imprint in only 4 years. It represents the Ensemble’s most fully realized presentation of a founding vision to create music as human, organic and alive as it is synthesized, produced and designed; music that transcends the notion of linear time, pulling in influences and ideas from the past and taking them far into the future.

Jahmal Padmore’s debut solo album, Esparonto, arrives via Telephone Explosion Records on May 28th, 2022. Padmore has been honing his producing, songwriting, and drumming skills since 2007, working with artists like Mstrkrft, The Carps, Just John and Brendan Philip. This extensive studio & collaboration experience has primed Jahmal for a standout debut, one that encompasses the diversity of his past musical work. Esparonto is a stunning collection of ten post-Afropunk R&B tracks that are languid, sexy and wry.

There is an undeniable sense of self-reflection that runs throughout Esperanto. Lyrics about distant regrets, ego detachment, and unconditional self-love are reoccurring, sung through Padmore’s signature lyrical croon. “... I can’t give you the things you need, without forsaking a part of me,” sings Padmore in the chorus of album opener Sorted, perfectly encapsulating the overarching vibe of Esperonto. Guitarist Benja’s foggy haze of abstract jazz chords provide a welcoming and warm atmosphere required for such deep contemplation.

Esperonto kicks it up a notch on the more hip hop-leaning tracks. Operator (ft: Matthew Progress), Ingestion (ft: Keita Juma) and Pretty are all rife with energy, with the latter taking the cake as the song most likely to be stuck in your head for the next 10 months, at least! The classic combination of a sample pack-worthy beat and a massive chorus are at work here. The song begins with the lyrics “I can’t help it if god made me pretty,” setting the hook for a stadium-sized chorus where Padmore proclaims “My ego gets me high/My ego tells me who I really am.” A follower of spiritual guru Ram Dass, Padmore appears to be one step closer to his goal of enlightenment, and is not ashamed of it.

The album closes with “So Cold,'' its most delicate track and a perfect come-down after such tireless self-evaluation. The epic crescendo sees Padmore repeatedly announcing “I’ve lost myself.” It’s clear that he has shed some unnecessary facets of his personality and is ready to move forward. Recording at Telephone Explosion’s Studio Z, the trio of Padmore, Benja and OBGMs drummer/keyboardist Colanthony Humphries began with lengthy jam sessions which eventually became the cores of each track. Padmore plucked the most progressive bass and percussion

elements from the sessions and added samples to create Esperonto’s uniquely live aesthetic. The album was then mixed by Louis Cremades at House Of Balloons (The Weeknd) and mastered by Kevin McPhee at East End Mastering.

Esparonto’s title is drawn from the name of the constructed language that Polish ophthalmologist L.L. Zamenhof created in the late 1800s. On this album, Padmore constructs a musical language all his own, with songs firmly rooted in R&B that expand to include elements of jazz, ambient, house, hip hop and pop. After years of holding space for other artists and productions, Padmore’s thrilling debut is a clear proclamation from an artist who is ready to step out of the shadows and into his own light.

Moves is their sixth release, and somewhat of a milestone. In addition to it being the octet's most psychedelic and arrestingly soulful release thus far, it's also their longest—their first, in fact, to cross into bonafide full-length territory. They're marking the occasion by joining the roster of Toronto favourite Telephone Explosion Records.

Touted as “innately personal” by DownBeat Magazine, Brodie West's unique vision has been nourished by a bafflingly diverse array of sources. Meeting the legendary Dutch drummer Han Bennink in 2000 at age 24 not only sparked an ongoing creative partnership (including two records), but also led him in a number of other fruitful directions. Bennink was the connection to exploratory punks The Ex, who brought West aboard for their collaboration with Ethiopian saxophonist Getatchew Mekurya, which produced recordings and tours worldwide.

Where the Brodie West Quintet (Astral Spirits, Ansible Editions) trades in clever jazz asymmetry and his duo Ways is a stark and focussed exploration of rhythm, Eucalyptus is where this eclecticism is most audible. The band simmers with polyrhythmic percussion, laid-back jazz sweetness, various strains of psychedelic wonk, and subtle tropical aromas from dub on “Rose Manor,” named after the retirement home of his musical grandmother Lorna (ever a source of inspiration for West) to Bossa Nova, as heard on “It's In A Move.” Its streaks of free-form bedlam and pure sonic texture keep listeners poised for perplexity and cheerful volatility.

Moves manages to approximate the playful, intoxicating warmth the band conjures in their beloved local live appearances. Eucalyptus has made a tradition out of mounting month-long residencies at Hirut, a cozy east-end eatery that serves delicious Ethiopian cuisine. Hirut even gets a nod in the credits. Perhaps it's because this record's subtle whimsy and inviting disarray draws so much from the spirit of those evenings.

A large part of this odd concoction's success comes down to West's co-conspirators, a veritable who's who of Toronto's underground music community. Trumpet player Nicole Rampersaud, who has since relocated to Fredericton, New Brunswick, has sculpted her unique tone as composer-in-residence at Halifax's Everyseeker Festival and in collaborations with the likes of Rakalam Bob Moses, Anthony Braxton, Joe Morris and Telephone Explosion's own Joseph Shabason. Ryan Driver (clavinet) has cut a series of gorgeous song records for Tin Angel Records, and collaborated with Eric Chenaux (Constellation) in various projects, while leading a number of his own imaginative outfits. Michael Smith (bass) plays with Toronto psychonauts the Cosmic Range and has toured and recorded with Mv+ee, Sandro Perri plus countless others. Fellow Perri collaborator, percussionist Blake Howard brings the palpable joy of his playing to collaborations with Marker Starling, Little Annie, and the surrealist mischief of GUH. 2021 saw Nick Fraser (drums) leading a disc on Hat-Hut's Ezzthetics imprint. It follows a string of other celebrated recordings with international out-jazz heavyweights like Tony Malaby and Kris Davis for Clean Feed, Astral Spirits and more. In addition to pursuing his delicate solo song work, drummer Evan Cartwright plays in both of West's other projects, and has performed and recorded with Tasseomancy, The Weather Station, US Girls, Badge Époque and Andy Shauf.

Another exciting development unveiled on Moves is the presence of guitarist Kurt Newman, who replaces longtime member Alex Lukashevsky. Newman's whirling treatments and colorful array of tones figure prominently into the ensemble's new and disorienting sound. Newman was the co-founder of premiere Austin improv festival No Idea alongside Chris Cogburn. A ceaseless collaborator who's worked with the likes of Sarah Hennies, Tetuzi Akiyama, Mats Gustafsson, he also leads his own projects such as Country Phasers and the Nashville Minimalism Unit.

Originally a digital-only release, this album carries the Toronto electronic music artist's body of work into a temporal loop of sorts, uniting a bond with Wave Science, his June 2021 EP on Pacific Rhythm. City of Rooms was completed in February 2021 and written as an escape during pressurized times. It invites an abstract style of listening in which any given sound links to various moments throughout the album.

The EP flows like scenery on a long train ride. Track lights pass with a rhythmic certainty as foreground and background twist around each other. Listeners will be transported through a geography of sounds that function as independent parts of a whole. Triangulations occur as elements fall into different forms of relief against each other.

A sense of technologically alienated mystery envelops the wings of this album in the distant clicks and hums that churn beneath jeweled synth extremities. Rings of Roland toms and hi-hats pierce clouds of ambient pads, the signature chaotic truth of acidic 303 patterns cross time kept by a twitching rhythm section rendered in field samples from the local grocery store. Arpeggiated slopes built off of echo and fuzz ascend, a remote whistle answers the syncopated call of a güiro before transforming into a cricket in flight and revealing that there is a latin backbone to much of the percussion on City of Rooms.

In a few instances Emissive hides gemlike hooks beneath minutes of intricate construction.The album opens with Quartz Register, a steady and intricate gallop of servos and circuit noise at times verging on conga.On Natural Springs, an acid riff announces an amazingly perplexing synth güiro solo. Sunset Yellow sees tubular horn-like barks emerge in a flurry before pulling off to form a sparse alternating backbeat that haunts the rest of the track. The final track, Constellation of Friends, is an arrangement of familiar 808 samples treated to an exquisitely measured mix that turns an 808 cowbell sample into an otherworldly clock.

"Feels like I'm made of glass," Carlyn Bezic sings over a tumbling, harmonic guitar riff on "Pummelled Into Sand," the closing song of Faster Than I Can Take. "Like I could cut you, or you could break me in half." It's a double-edged statement about the power that comes from inhabiting your vulnerability, a complicated truth expressed so beautifully it seems almost simple.

Making the impossible look easy has always been Bezic's musical M.O. Faster Than I Can Take is her sophomore album as Jane Inc., a solo project forged after years of building her bona fides in the Toronto music scene with groups like U.S. Girls, Darlene Shrugg and acclaimed dance-pop duo Ice Cream. Pitchfork called Jane Inc's first album, 2020's Number One, "dazzling... [Bezic] proves herself a musical Swiss Army knife, capable of anything and revelling in her multiplicity." On Faster Than I Can Take, she uses all the tools at her disposal - a Prince-like ability to shred harmonic guitar riffs over deep, danceable grooves, an eagerness to experiment with form, and lyricism that seamlessly links the personal and the political - to focus the multifaceted energy of Number One into something completely singular. A disco-inflected, danceable meditation on the permeable boundaries between our interior and exterior worlds, Faster Than I Can Take is an album that you can listen to at a party or alone in your apartment - but no matter where you listen, it will make you dance.

On lead single "Contortionists," Bezic's voice floats over a landscape of spare, warping synths and ethereal backing vocals from Dorothea Paas (U.S. Girls, Badge Epoque Ensemble), seeming at first to sketch out a familiar pandemic scene: "The laws of time have changed / months pass in minutes, hours feel like days." But as the melody begins to swirl and bend back over itself, a deeper theme creeps in. “At first I thought I was making a record about time," Bezic explains, "but I was actually making a record about how, in moments of intense anxiety, you're living in the past, present and future at the same time. A million moments existing at once, real and imagined." By the time the song drops into a ticking groove, you know exactly what she means.

Many of the songs on Faster Than I Can Take work this way - taking concepts that feel intimately interior and expanding them into something universal. Songs like the moody, bass-heavy title track, or the bright, searing "Pummelled Into Sand," where a Hendrix-like guitar solo runs under Bezic's voice like a third rail, deal with what Bezic calls "the pain of change and growth." "Human Being" and "Dancing With You" (whose bridge features the catchiest meditation break you've ever heard in a dance-pop song), explore the psychedelic melding of individual and collective worlds that can come from fantasizing about performance while alone in your house, or connecting to a group of strangers through your computer screen.

In "An Ordinary Thing," Bezic contemplates the complexities of wanting to create anything - art, or even a family - against the backdrop of the Anthropocene. "Someone please take this from me / this feeling, this need," she sings, the tension audible in her voice. But in the next track, the irresistibly danceable "2120," that anxiety turns into powerful resolve: "I'll pour my grief into this plastic crucible / Forge a new infinite fuel made of anger, and hope, and refusal," she sings against a driving, determined beat.

That determination is what makes Faster Than I Can Take unlike anything else you've heard this year - a work of art that refuses to either wallow in the difficulties of contemporary life or ignore them in favour of escapist fantasy. As Jane Inc., Bezic takes on the complexities of living in the world - alone, and with others - with playfulness, honesty, openness and love, and turns all that complication into something that will move you.

How do you self-stabilize amidst ongoing crisis? Or, more crucially, what does it mean to question how much control we have over our collective well-being? On Ballad of a Tryhard, the third album by Scott Hardware, the moniker of Toronto-based musician and composer Scott Harwood, he attempts a response by honouring the splendor of “living between emotions.” It’s an album where a rich inner monologue, and the undefined space between reflection and realization can offer an invaluable reprieve. Over luminous keys and sky-sweeping melodies, Harwood reverse engineers his capabilities as a composer skilled in the art of complexity to deliver his boldest album to date — unselfconsciously ambitious Y2K rock; a reimagination of experimental adult contemporary that tweaks the limits of soft rock with curiosity and appreciation.

On Ballad of a Tryhard Hardware conducts a painstaking character evaluation to better understand the world by looking inward. Suspended and exalting, the album bursts with cinematic flourishes that ring with a courageous form of earnestness. Because once you examine the internal toll of people-pleasing, and question if charisma has been overvalued, is there space to imagine a new reality that seeks to uplift rather than wallow — observing sparse moments of beauty and light amidst a world in constant mourning?

Crafted in Spain and co-produced with Matt Smith (Prince Nifty, Owen Pallett), Ballad of a Tryhard is a snapshot of weeks spent in Elche, a sleepy Mediterranean city on the southeast coast, wandering through emptied-out streets, becoming acquainted with the interiors of a historic apartment block, and living for the first time with a familiar love. With unlimited time on his hands, Harwood would write slowly, playing piano until dawn. The result is an album with ornate and bucolic orchestral arrangements that nod to a background in techno and house with a tangled web of synths and strings. On tracks like “Summer” (featuring members of Phedre, Lee Paradise, Whimm, Vallens, Blunt Chunks, and Jaunt) and “Love Through the Trees,” Harwood tries his hand on bouncy, heartstring ballads built for the open road, while “Watersnake” is an unstoppable earworm that makes an anthemic proposition for her own self-surety.

Prior to his solo work as Scott Hardware, Harwood played with indie rock stalwart Toronto groups like Ostrich Tuning and released ambient pop as Ken Park. A move to Berlin influenced his 2016 debut, Mutate Repeat Infinity, which centered the dancefloor as a site of queer resilience. 2020’s Engel pulled direct inspiration from Wim Wender’s 1987 haunting masterpiece Wings of Desire. In 2021 Harwood was accepted into the Slaight Family Music Lab.

Sensational – that’s Frank Hatchett! These words can be found on many of the 16 albums credited to the legendary NYC jazz dancer, choreographer, and teacher to the stars - Madonna, Brooke Shields, Olivia Newton-John, and Naomi Cambell. In the highlights compiled on this expansive double LP set, the sounds of Hatchett’s albums run the gamut from disco and funk in the 1970s to electro and proto-techno as they glide through the ’80s. Most tracks clock in at a brisk 2:30 – the ideal length for Hatchett’s classes or his students’ recital performances. Fans of library music will find a similar focus on immaculate performances, while the tightly coiled drum breaks, Afro-Cuban rhythms, and thumping 808s will send rare groove collectors into a state of head nodding bliss. Hatchett’s name and photos may appear on the sleeves of his records like Dance Crazy, Jazz Power, or Vop Style, but he is nowhere to be found in the music contained within. Instead, these albums dating back to 1974 were recorded by studio players under the guidance of musical director Don Tipton or arranger Zane Mark. Performers include: keyboardist Fred McFarlane (Madonna, Keith Sweat, Evelyn “Champagne” King), drummer Bernard Davis (Steve Winwood, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Kool & The Gang).

Before forming outer limits jazz-rock outfit Badge Époque Ensemble, Max Turnbull masterminded the oddball pop persona Slim Twig, wrote and performed with U.S. Girls, and moonlighted in varyingly experimental groups across his native Toronto. While this was going on, the devout crate digger had his third eye trained on another project—one that would span the breadth of his mercurial creativity. This “journal album,” as he puts it, is titled Scroll, and it collages together the pearls of Turnbull’s eight-year dive into his songwriting imagination. Sprawling across 90 audacious minutes, Scroll—released simply as Badge Epoch, a tidy distinction from the collective Époque Ensemble—sounds unearthed from a lost musical Atlantis. Turnbull calls it “a cosmic hodge podge of funk, jazz, ambient techno, aggressive guitarmonized rawk, musique concrète, and hip hop.

On Further Up Island , André Ethier completes the trilogy of solo albums that began with 2017’s Under Grape Leaves and 2019’s Croak In The Weeds. While not narratively linked in the traditional sense, these records document the musician’s ongoing collaboration with producer Sandro Perri. Like Robert Altman’s run of brilliant films with Shelley Duvall in the 1970s, the duo have developed a singular creative kinship over the course of three LPs. Since his days as the frontman of the Deadly Snakes, Ethier has cultivated an entirely different artistic practice as an acclaimed contemporary painter. At the same time, he has quietly slipped out a spellbinding body of work as a solo musician, with this album trifecta showcasing his skills as one of Canada’s most vastly underrated songwriters and storytellers. Ethier’s songs are casually played but carefully orchestrated, allowing each element to appear in sharp focus. “These albums are a series using the same palette,” explains Ethier, whose softly coloured paintings also grace the covers of the trilogy. “The tools Sandro and I used on all three of them are similar so that the songs can almost be interchangeable. It’s a way of giving time to a creative relationship so it can blossom, like developing a shorthand with a co-worker. Nurturing that process allows it to grow.”

Anything Can’t Happen is the long-awaited debut album from Dorothea Paas, one of Canada’s most beloved singer-songwriters. For over a decade, Paas has played her unique, prismatic style of folk songcraft for audiences across North America, and lent her talents as a guitarist and vocalist to artists like Jennifer Castle, U.S. Girls and Badge Epoque Ensemble. The songs on this album have been through a near-infinite number of forms – Paas has played them solo and with a full band, electric and acoustic, at house shows and in sold-out venues. they manage to fit inside each context, like water taking the shape of its container. All of this makes Anything Can’t Happen feel far more mature and complex than a debut album. It’s a statement of purpose, a next step in a decade-long process of artistic growth and evolution, and a bridge between the DIY style of Paas’s previous cassette releases and a more refined studio sensibility. Recorded in studios in Hamilton and Toronto, and mixed by Max Turnbull of Badge Epoque and U.S. Girls and Steve Chahley, these songs bring a diverse range of musical influences into conversation: inflected with the layered reverberations of Grouper, shot through with the piercing harmonies of the Roches, electrified with the searing energy of Sonic Youth. You can hear Neil Young in the grittiness of the title track’s guitar; Joni Mitchell’s Hejira in the album’s lyrics, Fairport Convention in Paas’s voice. The influence of Stevie Wonder - one of Paas’s greatest musical role models - is present too, in the album’s conceptual foundations.

ane Inc is unlike any other project Toronto-based songwriter Carlyn Bezic (Ice Cream, U.S Girls, Darlene Shrug) has been a part of. It’s an incubator for experimentation. A one-woman show where Bezic helms every role, guiding the creative process in a way that feels right for her. It’s an outlet to escape real-world bummers and forge fantasies, a sonic journey through a complex reality. Jane Inc. is an extension of Bezic, a solo persona used to explore the different facets of herself and her artistry. Number One is Jane Inc’s debut album on Telephone Explosion, a collage of fragmented thoughts, turned into soundscapes that are flowing, dream-like reflections of the world, and how she sees herself in it. Written and produced by Bezic, the early songs for Number One were created with samples and drum breaks on Ableton. She later recruited recording engineer Steve Chahley to record drums and drum machine on the final tracks with Toronto drummer Evan J. Cartwright (Tasseomancy, U.S Girls, Eucalyptus), adding saxophone by Nick Dourado (BUDi Band, Aquakultre, Fiver) and Wurlitzer by Scott Harwood (Scott Hardware).

New release by Canadian sweethearts referred to in the press as “Toronto’s ever-evolving backing band”
This LP “openly plays with the shape of a pop song,” drawing on the band members’ backgrounds in jazz, subverting rhythmic formulas, and resting in grooves that sit just outside of
The album’s sound is experimental in its truest definition, chopped up like musique concrete and then delicately placed back together with the loving touch of a scrapbook collagist

Bernice is the experimental pop vessel of musician/songwriter Robin Dann and her longtime collaborators Thom Gill (keyboards, guitar), Philippe Melanson (e-percussion and drums), Daniel Fortin (bass) and Felicity Williams (voice). Together and apart, they have performed with Martha Wainwright, Andy Shauf, Lido Pimienta, Bahamas, Knower, and Beverly Glenn Copeland among many others, which led to them being referred to in the press as “Toronto’s ever-evolving backing band.”

In their own right, however, they have repeatedly proved to be far more than the sum of their considerable parts. Bernice’s Polaris Prize-nominated 2018 LP 'Puff: In The Air Without A Shape' received major international attention, described as an “analytical, self-dissecting monument to ephemerality” by The New York Times, and “a fascinating musical conversation” that blends pop and R&B influences with C86 aesthetics by Pitchfork, alongside high praise from outlets like NPR, Fader, and Stereogum, and many more.

Nearly three years on from that release (for Bernice a rapid turnaround by comparison to the seven-year gap between their 2011 debut and Puff), the band return with their third full-length, Eau de Bonjourno, out March 5th from Telephone Explosion and figureeight records. It marks their first collaboration with producer Shahzad Ismaily, the acclaimed multi-instrumentalist who has worked with artists as varied as Laurie Anderson, Lou Reed, Elvis Costello, Iggy Pop, John Zorn, and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy. While their genre reconstruction remains distinctly Bernice, Dann’s lyrics bring a newfound focus to storytelling in the present moment, compassionately meeting ourselves where we are, and finding joy in spaces that are familiar but ever changing.

Eau de Bonjourno, according to Dann, “openly plays with the shape of a pop song,” drawing on the band members’ backgrounds in jazz, subverting rhythmic formulas, and resting in grooves that sit just outside of predictable. Instead of letting instruments take extended solos, the tone is set on opener “Groove Elation” with brief blurts of synthesized sax, patient passages of space, or clusters of beats, tenderly held together by Dann and Williams’ intimate vocals. The album’s sound is experimental in its truest definition, chopped up like musique concrete and then delicately placed back together with the loving touch of a scrapbook collagist.

Teenanger Turns A BAD Time Into A Good Time. Teenanger was on the edge of a precipice in the spring of 2018. It had been a weird year. The band had just completed the promotional cycle for Teenager, a sprawling, diverse and pseudo-self-titled 2017 album that was an uncanny reflection of Teenanger’s pending restlessness.

Teenager’s release also marked the end of the band’s first decade together. With a lineup unchanged since its inception, the members had become inseparable companions, and their then-new album was a testament to all this.

The corresponding tour was celebratory, culminating in a near-rapturous performance at Sappyfest 12 in a Nova Scotia Legion hall. The band was anxious to get back to Toronto and start working on new material, channeling all the positivity and inspiration from the last 12 months and turning it into an album to be proud of.

Instead, they found themselves creatively empty, convalescent from a months-long case of writer’s block that was unexpectedly placing Teenanger’s existence in jeopardy. They talked about adding additional members. They talked about breaking up. They struggled to figure out where the malaise was coming from. In the end, it boiled down to physical space.

Teenanger had been rehearsing in the same room for years now, sharing it with a revolving door of local musicians and toiling within the confines of a twice-a-week jam schedule. It was the literal definition of routine. The space was so firmly rooted in Teenanger’s past that it was sabotaging its future. It was time to move.

One Craigslist ad stood out among a sea of online postings. It was tersely written, and incorrectly listed as an apartment for rent, but two words stood out: “Music OK.” This was enough to prompt a viewing the very next day, and before the band members had a chance to second-guess themselves, a lease was signed. The space was christened “Studio Z,” a basement that spent its early years doubling as a reggae studio and after-hours club, run by the son of the restaurant owner upstairs. It was then left vacant, a space for rats and spiders to coexist in subterranean harmony. It wasn’t pretty nor was it safe, but it was affordable, drenched in vibe and offering the one thing their previous spot could not: change.

Teenanger moved in and immediately started working. Studio Z’s setup allowed them to install a fully-functional recording studio adjacent to its claustrophobic live room. Songs were roughly sketched and immediately captured, allowing unlimited creative flexibility as they multi-tracked, edited and reconstructed them into album-ready material. Little did they know, this newfound freedom would be a tradeoff for the perpetual complications Studio Z would create.

It seemed that as soon as one problem was solved, another would arise. The band dealt with vermin, two major floods, constant mold and a CO2 leak that, if left unchecked, could have killed the 20 people living and working in the building’s vicinity. Through it all, Teenanger continued to work. This album was shaping up to be different. Special. These things couldn’t get in the way.

Two weeks before the record was completed, the building’s hydro was cut off indefinitely. This would prove to be the final straw. When power was restored, Teenanger returned to Studio Z one last time. They made their final tweaks, sent the files to Sandro Perri for mixing, disassembled the studio and left for good. The two-year saga that led to the creation of Good Time is Teenanger boiled down to its very essence. A lean and muscular eight-song album that is the sound of a band who simultaneously has everything and nothing to prove. It’s what happens when seasoned songwriters flex their chops in an environment that fosters boundless creativity. It is also Teenanger’s most fun album. Choruses soar to previously unattained heights, descending to the rhythmically fertile ground to pull earworms that will stick inside listeners’ heads for days. If its songs were citizens, they would reside in a diplomatically neutral city-state, melting pots of art rock, pop, dub, post-punk and new wave.

The music of Good Time certainly elicits pleasure, but lyrically things are more weighty. The band does not shy away from its commentary on contemporary issues. There are calls to reject societal norms, ruminations on humanity’s obsession with technology and warnings about our impact on the environment. Teenanger never gets too earnest, delivering everything with an irreverence that has been there since day one.

Good Time captures a pivotal point for Teenanger. The decision was made to take a leap of faith, leaving the confines of their past and moving into a space they could call their own. This allowed the band members to embrace a new way of making music and existing together. They may have almost died in Studio Z, instead, they were reborn.

First time ever on vinyl Quiet Music is a collection of pieces created by Steve Roach between 1983 and 1986 in respect for silence. The gentle 603s of Roach's synthesizers mix with flute, electric piano and nature sounds flow like breath, enveloping the listener in a sustained, delicate and translucent atmosphere. Quiet Music was originally released as a three tape cassette series in 1986 on Fortuna Records and is now being issued as a complete series on vinyl for the first time ever.



After Structures From Silence was released, Steve was receiving invitations to create music for the emerging meditation yoga and healing arts community in Los Angeles. Quiet Music 1 was originally commissioned for a meditation video, which featured a collection of video images of lush forested areas, wild flowers and natural serenity. But by the time the piece was completed the producer passed away and the project was never completed. Quiet Music 1’s direct connection to a distinct environment set the tone for the trilogy of albums. Quiet Music 2 was inspired by Steve spending a lot of time in deserts and was created as a natural progression from Structures From Silence, and the more nocturnal feeling of Quiet Music 3 were pieces designed for Steve’s personal healing practices.



The Quiet Music series was released in a timeline that is often seen as linear but this music was created directly along side the dynamic fully 603 albums like Now, Traveler, and Empetus. In the early 80’s Steve would be shifting between the invigorating sequencer-percussive driven music and then move directly into weightless drifts and contemplative spaces. This way of creating grew naturally out of a desire to not settle into one place sonically and to nourish himself with a space that could be creative and fine tuned, creating a calm and renewing zone while living within the hectic pace of urban life in Los

Angeles.

Forthcoming on Telephone Explosion. Bob Bell _Necropolis_. Canadian private press mega-rarity/ obscurity from the artistically schizophrenic Bob Bell. Recorded in 1978, Bell splits the difference between his love of basement psych splatter/pummel and squalling free jazz ramble, the former occupying side A with a stunning four part suite of wasted guitar scuzz and churning Krautrock-like drama with an akin to German Oak, Roland Kirk, Albert Ayler, DNA, Melt Banana (minus the vocals) and Guru Guru. The latter represents Bell as a saxophonist on side B, and the music itself translates into a 15-minute free-jazz exploration.

Melodic Energy Commission is a Canadian gem and an interesting branch of the Hawkwind family tree (featuring Del Delmar on electronics.) Hailing from British Columbia, their unique blend of space rock, progressive and hippie psychedelia began in 1977 as a recording-only project titled "The Melodic Energy Commission of Collected Artists."
In 1985 Ken Man showed up in the studio with this IBM AT computer. It had a 1/2 MB of RAM and some Voyetra software that could sequence music, becoming the duo’s backing band. Fist Of Facts contributors included Mark Cunningham from Mars, Felice Rosser, Genevieve De Monvel Boutet, Carlos Vivanco, Scott Hartley from the Liquids and a whole host of others. Fist of Facts expand the natural groove that Liquid Liquid established over their quick career, with a strong political message combined with abstract dub soundscapes.

Melodic Energy Commission is a Canadian gem and an interesting branch of the Hawkwind family tree (featuring Del Delmar on electronics.) Hailing from British Columbia, their unique blend of space rock, progressive and hippie psychedelia began in 1977 as a recording-only project titled "The Melodic Energy Commission of Collected Artists."

In 2016, after reissuing two Bruce Haack albums, Haackula and Electric Lucifer Book II, Telephone Explosion began speaking with Ted Pandel (Bruce’s lifelong friend and business partner) about working on the 1970 masterpiece The Electric Lucifer. It turned out there was another matter that he wanted to discuss: finding a final resting place for the Bruce Haack archive.
We were shown test-pressings of The Electric Lucifer board mixes from his Columbia studio sessions, countless pieces of written music, a large number of personal photos, an invitation from Raymond Scott inviting Bruce to play his newly created Electronium
instrument (now owned by Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh), poems, press clippings, and, most importantly, a heavyduty shelf containing 213 reel-to-reel tapes. All of the chosen material on The Preservation Tapes is unreleased, has only been heard by a handful of people and showcases a relatively unknown period in Bruce’s
musical career where Bruce was recording for Sparrow Records (who billed themselves as "America's best Christian music record label”). Bruce’s signature Farad vocoder continues to feature prominently, but the lyrical content is decidedly more religious.
The Bruce Haack archive is now resting in the Provincial Archives of Alberta, in Edmonton,
Alberta, Canada.

The fifth Teenanger album Teenager, is a collection of thirteen songs, a thinly-veiled investigation into Canada’s Telecom stranglehold and its effect on consumer spending, an odeto simpler and more violent times, proof that climate change exists, a fraudulent scheme to ensure maximum ROI, and more than anything, a fantastic piece of future punk history. Teenanger are musical baristas. They have made you a customized non-dairy Unicorn Frapuccino of a record that combines all of punk’s best sub-genres: art-punk, post-punk, ambient-punk, synth-punk, peace-punk, garage-punk, bunk-punk, punk-core, plaid-punk, nu-punk and of course, punk-punk.

Jahmal Padmore, a Toronto-based singer-songwriter and drummer, is a master of introspection and musical innovation. Having begun his career as a punk rock duo with The Carps, Jahmal's solo artistry has since flourished, earning him critical acclaim for his contemplative R&B ballads. In 2022, he released his latest album, Esparonto, a testament to his unyielding commitment to artistic expression. Jahmal has graced the stages of Pop Montreal and delivered a mesmerising sold-out performance for his album release, cementing his place as a rising star in the industry. Set to tour Europe and the U.S. throughout 2023 and 2024, Jahmal's genre-blurring sound, which includes R&B, punk rock, and calypso, is a powerful meditation on love, relationships, and the human experience.

Jahmal Padmore, a Toronto-based singer-songwriter and drummer, is a master of introspection and musical innovation. Having begun his career as a punk rock duo with The Carps, Jahmal's solo artistry has since flourished, earning him critical acclaim for his contemplative R&B ballads. In 2022, he released his latest album, Esparonto, a testament to his unyielding commitment to artistic expression. Jahmal has graced the stages of Pop Montreal and delivered a mesmerising sold-out performance for his album release, cementing his place as a rising star in the industry. Set to tour Europe and the U.S. throughout 2023 and 2024, Jahmal's genre-blurring sound, which includes R&B, punk rock, and calypso, is a powerful meditation on love, relationships, and the human experience.

Since stepping into the overflow of coastal dance music currents with a remarkable liquidity of buoyant basslines and undulating rhythms, Active Surplus have stripped back and refined their process. The duo’s lush, singular sound has undergone vaporization. And where there is vapour, there is heat.

The compositions on Mirroring have a subliminal quality. It is as though new elements and sections simply develop out of the ether while the listener is entranced by the interplay of percussion and arpeggiator that defines the first side of the album. They say a watched pot never boils.

The rolling simmer of the album’s first half reaches peak percolation in the midst of Emote Control’s spritely electro shuffle. Even at this energetic height, AS are unafraid to demonstrate masterful restraint, dropping everything out but the drums before we finally hear the bassline for the first time at the 3min mark. It’s the group’s matured sensibility for pacing that begets the hypnotic euphoria abundant on Mirroring.

Cerulean Blue initiates the meditative condensation phase of Mirroring. Rhythms remain propulsive under luxuriating pads which feel like a contemplation on the water’s surface, to which molecules begin to reintegrate. Layers of shimmering synth reflect like sun droplets off the crystalline plane of Silencer while a gentle tide pulses. Docking listeners with a sense of closure, Slow Horizon delivers on its title in mood and atmosphere.

Mirroring is a beautifully contained work from a duo whose musical identity has clarified through intention and ritual. Active Surplus craft compositions that leave space for listeners to be in the room with them as they create. Because mirroring, in essence, is a form of relating.

Symphony Orchestra is a new group from Maximilian Turnbull and Michael Rault. Both Rault and Turnbull are accomplished songwriters, performers and producers in their own right, with Turnbull leading The Badge Epoque Ensemble, playing with the group Darlene Shrugg, and once releasing records under the name Slim Twig and Rault having released several psychedelic rock & roll classics under his own name in the past decade. The pair have worked together in various capacities for many years, writing and recording together on U.S. Girls' In A Poem Unlimited, and contributing to each other's releases, but the debut LP from Symphony Orchestra (due out May 12th on Telephone Explosion) marks their first release as an official entity.

Needless to say, there is a potent creative chemistry between Rault and Turnbull and Radiant Music showcases the alchemy between their distinct skill sets. The album is an exercise in pure collaboration. After years spent focusing on solo projects and working as hired guns on other projects, the duo came together with no specific intentions other than to work free of boundaries and direction. Freeing themselves from the familiar pressures of deadlines and expectations, they found a sense of discovery through togetherness. Duties on this project were split between Rault acting primarily as a one-man rhythm section and lead vocalist with Turnbull bringing chord sketches and his trademark aphoristic lyrical musings to the table. Trading off roles on guitar and keys from song to song, the duo's deft approach to melody bleeds through their instrumental parts as much as it does through Rault's vocal melodies. The majority of this album was self-engineered over the course of three sessions in 2018, at Michael's Montreal studio. Dormant during the pandemic, Rault's move to Los Angeles and the birth of Turnbull's twin sons, work reignited in 2022. The latterly tracked instrumental 'Concerto' and ballad 'Unthink The Thinkable' provide a dynamic depth to the album perhaps attributable to this tumultuous pause. Mixing came courtesy of Steve Chahley & Tony Price (U.S. Girls, BÉE, Jane Inc, etc).

In all of their work, Rault and Turnbull have made a hallmark of elaborately precise production and arrangement, Radiant Music is no different, though its pared-back simplicity provides a streamlined directness. The pairing of Rault's soulful, elastic vocal with Turnbull's evocatively cerebral lyrics provides a thrilling sensation unlike anything else in their respective catalogs. With an explosive, groove-forward approach, kaleidoscopic walls of vocal harmony and technicolor displays of guitar work, these 31 minutes of music will most certainly stimulate the mind of any fan of classic pop rock and funk. The blown-out breakbeats, winsome woven vocal melodies and propulsive wah-wah guitars of the title track evoke memories of an after-school cartoon special that never really existed outside of a lysergic daydream. "Harp In The Wind" is a perfect moment of overcast melancholy complete with ribbons of weeping synthesizers and velcro-fuzz guitar that could rip a clean line through Kevlar. "Know Thyself" and the harmony-rich "Intersection" are standout tracks that find a kinship in Stereolab's space-age effervescence. "Concerto" is a slab of beaming, mischievous funk that nods to Billy Preston's extraterrestrial keyboard explorations.

Radiant Music, like the best pop music, is life-affirming, confectionary, and enticing. Symphony Orchestra have created an album that hits you right where you need it, anchoring heady, adventurous sonic ideas down to a solid foundation of masterful songcraft, virtuosic instrumental performances and undeniable groove. Not a bar, nor beat is wasted.