Saturday, October 31, 2026

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Beat-Club 1972 / Live in Paris 1980


 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Beat-Club 1972
 

 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band - Live in Paris 1980
 
My music-loving friends (a redundant phrase, that) and I occasionally indulge in an old joke: whenever the subject of certain musical acts come up, one of us will mention how that artist is one whose work we keep on hand in case guests overstay their welcome. The point, of course, is that spinning of a disc by said artists generally moves guests to head for the door. And we oh-so-hip types, we get these artists; we actually enjoy that which is so (at best) alien or (at worst) painfully unlistenable about their music.
Two chief suspects on that list are The Residents and Captain Beefheart. Both virtually define the outsider aesthetic, though in very different ways. Beefheart’s work was based in blues, but imbued with a dada approach that headed off in all sorts of directions. His Trout Mask Replica is an important work, and this remains true whether or not you can stand to listen to it all the way through. Me, I bought it on the strength of a review I read as a young teen; it might have been the Rolling Stone Record Guide or some such. I picked it up on vinyl for a reasonable price; the records were technically used, but – as I discovered – “difficult” records can often be bought used, and the new owner will discovered the vinyl has barely been played. (The same thing happened when I finally scored a vinyl copy of John and Yoko‘s Two Virgins: the 40-plus year old vinyl is pristine. I mean, who plays that thing repeatedly?)
But Two Virgins isn’t of serious musical value; much of the recorded output of Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band, however, is.
An oft-repeated axiom (of repeated ’cause it’s true) is that Europeans have seemed to display a greater appreciation for American art than, well, Americans. One bit of evidence in favor of this argument is the existence of so many archival television clips of American artists. I can’t think of a single American TV appearance of Captain Beefheart, other than his late-period spot on Saturday Night Live. And to be fair, in his case, there aren’t all that many European spots, either.
But there is at least one, and it’s – up to now – pretty rare. Beefheart and Band recorded some numbers for the German musical variety show Beat Club. The sessions took place in April 1972, and a portion of the performance aired on German television that June. The entire recorded session never aired, but it’s available now on a DVD called The Lost Broadcasts.
Running a mere 30 minutes, the unedited color reel finds Beefheart and his band on the soundstage running through two takes of “Click Clack” and three passes at “I’m Gonna Booglarize You Baby,” both featured on the band’s 1972 album The Spotlight Kid. One from Trout Mask Replica (“Steal Softly Thru the Snow”) and one from the then-unreleased Clear Spot (“Golden Birdies”) make up most of the disc’s remainder. The set opens with a three-minute Mark Boston bass solo (punctuated with brief Beefheart declamations) called “Mascara Snake.”
The band are decked out in grunge/glam finery, looking to all the world like The Mothers with a bigger wardrobe budget (in fact, bassist Roy Estrada, drummer Art Tripp III and guitarist Elliot Ingber were all past or future members of Frank Zappa‘s band. And guitarists Bill Harkleroad and Mark Boston had been with Beefheart since Trout Mask Replica. Tripp’s choice of headgear merits special notice.
“Click Clack” is a bizarre blues in which Tripp and Estrada hold down a tight, insistent and primal beat, while the rest of the band seems (but only seems) to ignore them and play some other song. A wildly go-go-dancing Boston flails away on his guitar, and Beefheart wails his vocals and a terrific harmonica solo.
Estrada disappears from the stage for several takes; he’s not present for the proto-poetry-slam of “Golden Birdies,” in which Beefheart grasps (but does not play) a saxophone. Three takes of “I’m Gonna Booglarize You Baby” are all similar; all feature the one-chord riff with all manner of mayhem atop it. Beefheart gets annoyed with a stagehand, resulting in an aborted second take and a walk-off. The third take features the wacky and dated “psychedelic” visual effects for which Beat Club is fondly remembered. The instrumental “Steal Softly Thru the Snow” gives the Captain a chance to show off his avant garde jazzy (but not exactly jazz) stylings on the sax.  From: https://blog.musoscribe.com/index.php/2012/08/14/dvd-review-captain-beefheart-his-magic-band-the-lost-broadcasts/
 





Fairport Convention - Bouton Rouge - French TV 1968 / Fairport Convention & Matthews' Southern Comfort - Live 1970 / Fairport Convention & Friends - Granada TV UK 1981


 Fairport Convention - Bouton Rouge - French TV 1968
 

 Fairport Convention & Matthews' Southern Comfort - Live 1970
 

 Fairport Convention & Friends - Granada TV UK 1981
 
A wonderful performance by Fairport Convention from the French TV Show "Bouton Rouge". It was broadcast live on 27 April 1968 and features the original Fairport Line up of Judy Dyble, Iain Matthews, Simon Nicol, Tyger Hutchings, Richard Thompson, and the late Martin Lamble playing Morning Glory, Time Will Show The Wiser and a simply awe-inspiring mind-melting performance of Reno, Nevada.
At this time Fairport had just released their first album and were very influenced by American folk rock and psychedelic groups like Jefferson Airplane, Bob Dylan and The Byrds. The sound, look and name of the band led many to think that either they were an American band or at best just a British version of Jefferson Airplane.
The star of the show is definitely Richard Thompson who is seen here in mega guitar hero role. After a fairly muscular solo in Morning Glory he delivers an astonishing perfectly paced 4 and a half minute six string marathon in Reno Nevada - so full of power, invention, imagination that the solo seems to run away with itself. Is Richard playing the guitar or is the guitar playing Richard? For the duration of this nearly 5 minute solo they are no longer the British Jefferson Airplane copying their heroes but arguably go beyond anything the Airplane, Grateful Dead or other San Francisco bands were doing in early '68 (although it must be said that the Dead would start to achieve similar high levels of  jazz inspired improv syncopation before the year was out but that is another story and post). After this performance they signed with Island Records, Judy Dyble left the band to be replaced by Sandy Denny and they went off to reinvent British folk rock.  From: https://strangerthanknown.blogspot.com/2013/01/fairport-convention-bouton-rouge.html

Many would contend that Fairport Convention, the first and foremost English band to combine rock 'n' roll with traditional folk elements, did its best work with singer Sandy Denny (including 1969's Liege & Lief, considered a genre landmark). Others, however, might argue that the Fairport lineup following Denny's departure, with guitarists Richard Thompson and Simon Nicol, violinist Dave Swarbrick, drummer Dave Mattacks, and bassist Dave Pegg, was their finest, at least from an instrumental standpoint. This concert from the 1970 Maidstone Fiesta festival, captured by noted British filmmaker Tony Palmer, is billed as the only film record of that quintet, which helps overcome some quite considerable shortcomings—namely, bad sound (poorly mixed, shrill, and grating) and worse visuals (the camera's almost constant tendency to focus on the wrong guy during solo spots is only one of the problems). The performances themselves, however, are good, with much of the material drawn from 1970's Full House, the lineup's sole album together. Swarbrick and Thompson play swift unison lines on a couple of jigs and reels, while "Jenny's Chickens & The Mason's Apron" starts out at a breakneck pace and only gets faster, and "Sir Patrick Spens" and "Now Be Thankful" find the band doing its best to make up for the absence of Denny's voice. The film also features two appealing offerings from Matthews' Southern Comfort, fronted by singer Ian Matthews, himself a former Fairporter.  From: https://videolibrarian.com/reviews/documentary/tony-palmers-film-of-fairport-convention-matthews-southern-comfort/

Broadcast in August 1981 on Granada TV and hosted by Mike Harding, Fairport Convention: Celebration is a rare full-set look at the band’s “Full House” lineup during their hiatus years. Featuring Dave Swarbrick, Richard Thompson, Simon Nicol, Dave Pegg, and Dave Mattacks—with guest Linda Thompson—the special blends 1970-era tracks, material from Smiddyburn, and unreleased gems like “Wall of Death.” This performance is a must-watch for folk rock fans and a snapshot of a band between chapters.  From: https://www.thatericalper.com/2025/07/01/fairport-conventions-1981-granada-tv-celebration-captures-folk-rock-legends-in-rare-hiatus-performance/
 



 

Monika Roscher Bigband - 8 Prinzessinnen


Monika Roscher Big Band - Witchy Activities And The Maple Death: Here's an interesting take on the big band format – Roscher's outfit, formed in Munich in 2011, mix the rich tonal palette of a jazz orchestra with avant-garde symphonic intensity, dissonance with swing, and acoustics with electronics. The drumming is fierce, the horns blare with real power and sense of purpose, but this lot can swing, too, and they know when to leaven the intensity with periods of reflection and even tenderness.
Epic opener, the nine-minute ‘8 Prinzessinnen’, is an appropiate ‘mission statement’ for MRBB as a unit and this album as a whole; Roscher explains that, “I wrote it like morse code and then set it in motion, like a musical wheel that stumbles but is unstoppable. Another wheel then materialises and clutches on to it, as if two bands are playing at the same time like clockwork.”
‘A Taste Of The Apocalypse’, meanwhile, “asks questions suggested by technological breakthroughs that make it necessary to rethink and perhaps redefine what makes us human.” Despite its doomy tone and title, it's an optimistic take on our increasingly digital future. Roscher's engaging, Björkish vocals are the icing on this well-recorded and beautifully-packaged piece of boundary bashing.  From: https://www.jazzwise.com/reviews/monika-roscher-big-band-witchy-activities-and-the-maple-death

Q: So tell me something about yourself. Where do you come from?

Monika Roscher: I’m from Nuremburg, but I went for music studies, guitar, to Munich, and we formed the big band in Munich. Most band members are still in Munich, but some are also in Berlin as well as Leipzig and Karlsruhe. In other words, all over Germany.

I see; so you are more or less connected with everyone around Germany. But what also interests me is what was your first contact with music? What do you remember? What was your first contact to music? Making music?

I would say probably my parents. We had a piano at home, a double bass and guitar. My dad bought all the instruments, and my brother played the double bass and my mom guitar. And so I also wanted to play. And after a while, I started making up stuff. And then, yeah, I really liked the instrument.

So you started by playing around and not methodically, but you learned to play the instrument.

And my mom taught me the stuff she knew, but mostly it was all about fun making music, because every time I heard music my heart was like, oh, it’s so great, let’s sing, let’s do something wild.

Cool. Do you remember what shaped your sensitivity for music in the past? Maybe a specific band or a specific instrument?

I think I went to a youth club or something like that. I’m from a small town near Nuremberg, where there were a lot of hip hop bands and metal bands, and all the metal bands had great guitar players. I was really fascinated by them, so I decided that I needed to learn guitar. It’s amazing. They can play so fast. I really liked the music and I liked the approach of the singers, but I also listened to jazz, and I asked myself, “what are they doing?” I don’t understand what the thing is. How can they communicate? Yeah. And I like all these mixtures in music.

You definitely have to have had some role models over the years who played guitar, some people who influenced your guitar playing. And you already told me that you listened to metal music a little bit because you were fascinated by the playing. Have you any specific guitarists you like?

Yes. I went to a Mars Volta concert and I liked how Rodriguez-Lopez played because it’s a very unique way of playing. So I really liked that. And yeah, but there are tons of guitar players such as all the jazz guitar players, because I went to study jazz, so I listened to all of them such as Wes Montgomery and all the old classics. So yeah, I’m fascinated by that as well.

The next question I want to ask is a little bit outdated, but it’s definitely something we find interesting. Are there any female guitarists you look up to?

Of course I know Jennifer Batten from Michael Jackson’s band. Yeah. And there is St. Vincent. She’s amazing. And let me think. Hmm. You know, the thing is that I’m actually not really interested in the people that much, because I simply like a piece of music at times. I like the idea of music. So I’m not just interested in which musicians I find fascinating, but rather which ones impress me. Wow. How fast they can play or something like that. But it’s the music that touches me, the something inside of it.

And I think many people look at this differently and in another way. They like the person who is making the music. But for me, there are artists that make stuff that I like and stuff that I don’t like that much. And that’s okay.

Yes. And you can even take it bit further and say what kind of person is that? Yeah, actually, I’m not really interested in the person behind the music, because I don’t know if I would like the person or not. So yeah, I really like music, so I don’t want to know too much.

Kind of differentiating between music and the personality. Exactly. Yes. I think that’s a very healthy attitude.

I do too. And after a while you think, oh, I don’t want to hear about the person.

Your music and your orchestra have some notable influences. How many of those influences maybe came from Frank Zappa?

Actually, I’m not quite sure how conscious this has been, because I didn’t listen to Frank Zappa in the beginning. I just started listening to him when people came after our concert and said you have to check out this and that from Frank Zappa. And I thought, okay. yeah, of course I know the name. And I know his big hits. But I hadn’t heard that song. And then I started getting deeper into his music, and then I felt like there might be a connection because he thought of a guitar as a guitar player and a composer, and that’s what I am. So this might be a connection where we think in the same way.

Like on the same wavelength in terms of personality?

Maybe. Yeah, I don’t know. But I don’t know him too well, just bits from interviews and the like. He was very political. So maybe.

It’s like the music is more important than Frank Zappa.

That’s what I think.

That what we said. Yeah. So let’s talk about the time when social media was evolving with respect to your creativity in music; how did the effect of social media influence you or how did it impact your creativity in music?

Well, at first–I must confess–I didn’t like it, didn’t want to be a part of it. I thought that I want to just make my music and then perform concerts. And after a while, you notice that people need to find you somehow. So you have to be on social media. Yeah. So okay, so I started posting on them and then I thought, oh, how amazing. I can connect to people in different countries, for example. Yeah. So that that’s amazing for me. I didn’t realize that before because you are in your own little world, you’re functioning in it, you’re playing and you’re having fun. Right now I think, okay, yes, we’re involved in it. That’s cool. But the most fun is, of course, the music.

So of course. Yeah. So the social media type of thing is like another world. But it’s starting to affect creativity. Do you think that you have to change part of your creativity because of the pressure that social media puts on musicians?

Yeah, but I’m not gonna give into that because I have music that is 12 minutes long, nine minutes long. If I play the Spotify game, for example, I’m gonna play it. So I have also split up my pieces into smaller bits. But when I’m playing live, I play the song and it takes 12 minutes. I’m not going to change my way of composing music just to have the chorus in the first 30 seconds or something like that. Exactly. That’s not what I want to do.

I understand that.

I might do it sometimes if I want to do it. But right now I’m not into something like that.

I see that’s not your main mission right now. And that’s very, very cool. I’m very cool with that. I know a band which has a Spotify song that lasts an hour and oh, wow! And I also think that when I want to listen to it, I listen to it, and I listen to it 15 times. So where’s the problem exactly?

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah. But not only the songs are big in the sense of long, but your band is also very big. Yeah. And you are a leader of a big band and also an electric guitarist in the band. And I think you’re the only guitarist in such a big band I know who is active today. I don’t know if it’s true, but what do you think about that? How does it feel to be a guitarist leader of a big band?

Well, normal. Nothing more.

Normal. Okay.

Because that’s what I started to do. In the beginning, I thought that I was going to form a guitar trio, and then we composed for a big band in school, and I thought, wow, I want to do that because now I have a much bigger playground to mess with. So I thought, okay, let’s try it. And after I graduated from the university, I called the other musicians and said let’s try this, try different stuff. And now we are all friends, and we know each other very well. I know all the musicians. I know their strong points and what their best moments are. So I can really compose for them. So that’s the best thing for me.

So it wasn’t planned, but it just started, right?

Oh, yeah. It was not planned. There was never a plan. Actually, I was not a big band fan at all.

Yeah, but it just depends on what you think a big band is. And you can make a big band in whatever way you want to.

Exactly.That’s true. Yeah. And then you start listening to big bands and then you think, okay, you can play it like this, or you can do totally differently. And I decided that I was gonna try something different, which is a lot of fun.

It’s very cool. I like that a lot. But there’s also very much commitment, time and work with so many people. How many people are there in your band exactly.

We are 18 on stage, and we have our mixer with us and band organizer who helps us, for example, arranging for coffee or other things.

And it’s gotta be a lot of work to organize that, isn’t it?

Yes. Yeah, terrible.

It’s terrible. And speaking of that, you have to have some someone who is taking care of bookings, planning and logistics. Are you doing that or is someone else doing it?

Yeah, I do it because I tried to contract someone a couple of times, but usually I got the feedback that the band is too big to take on the road. And I didn’t want to change it, because that’s what we want to do. So I just keep on doing this myself, and I really like it. We might not have the biggest tour, but that’s okay. Our tours are really big enough. So I do it.

It can be small but impactful. You know what I mean?

And it’s real. We are all friends. I don’t want to say we want to get rid of four people. No, everyone’s part of the band. And we play as this band.

That’s very cool. Going back to the orchestra and to the size of your orchestra and all the people playing in it. There are a lot of instrumentalists, a lot of capable instrumentalists who maybe are capable of having their own projects or something else. How do you work with them and which roles do those instrumentalists have in your band?

In the beginning, we all basically come from jazz. So it’s normal for us to have different projects. Everybody in the band has his or her own band where they play. And my project is also a band where we play, so it’s not as if we depend on the band. We do it all parallel. And I know each of my musicians, their strengths. I can hear the sound for this song and know this is a flute solo. So I know who I can ask to play this solo. And I also want the audience at a concert to experience all the musicians, all the colors. It’s not just solo guitar all the time, because I would want to hear all voices of the band if I go to a concert. So I want to hear all personalities, and I want to show that it’s beautiful.

From: https://inandout-jazz.es/2025/03/monika-roscher/ 



Loving the Alien - Rostknochen


It is impossible to pin down the exact genre of the music played by the Wels-based band "Loving the Alien." After all, the only things this quintet stuffs into drawers are wool socks—certainly not their songs. Lea Föger, Niklas Pichler, Patrick Pillichshammer, Melanie Aspöck, and Lukas Staudinger demonstrate this with their debut album, "The Blinded You" (Bleeding Star Records).
"The Blinded You" features twelve rock songs with a psychedelic touch and an almost ethereal, floating quality; these are grounded by euphoric folk rhythms, delicate violin accents, accordion sounds, and hard guitar riffs. Recorded at the Hof Studios in Regau, the album will be available via iTunes, at live performances, and through the band's website (www.lovingthealien.at). On stage with strings, winds, and a choir The quintet — named after the David Bowie song of the same name — has certainly come up with something special for their CD launch event. "It’s going to be a very special concert," promises singer Lea Föger. "We’ll be on stage with a string quartet, wind players, and a choir. That’s the same large-scale lineup we used to record the album." On February 22, the "Aliens"—who gained valuable experience last summer opening for Amy Macdonald at Clam Castle—will be supported by the indie band "Léyya" and the "JFT-Trio."  Translated from: https://www.nachrichten.at/meine-welt/freizeit/Hereinspaziert-Loving-the-Alien-landet-in-Wels;art7,1304606 



Mastodon - Steambreather


Mastodon’s Emperor of Sand is a serious, bleak concept album about mortality so it’s a delight that the accompanying video for lead single “Show Yourself” was a goofy riff on that subject matter. The band is continuing that comedic tone in the new video for album track “Steambreather,” which takes the title and theme of knowing yourself into realms you could never imagine.
The clip follows two metalhead/slacker dudes as they’re sucked into the increasingly horrific machinations of a “nasal enlightenment” cult. It goes from new age breathing meditations to nostrils being gruesomely stretched to people melting into putty from psychedelic vision quests.  From: https://www.vice.com/en/article/mastodons-steambreather-video-is-funny-but-will-make-you-fear-noses/

In interviews, Mastodon have discussed the elemental themes of their albums. They mentioned that they tried to commit an album exclusively to air but that wood, somehow, found its way onto the record, fairly consistently. In all seriousness, I appreciate the honesty and lack of irony in this statement and this submission to the most natural of inspirations. It’s almost as if very little cognizant songwriting even takes place and instead the Atlanta outfit channels otherworldly mysticism.
Continuing this trajectory of commitment to elemental derivatives is Mastodon’s Emperor of Sand. “Sultan’s Curse” hears the roaring guitar riffs lay an aggressive ambience for the trio of singers. Meanwhile, the oddly ethereal “Clandestiny” hears what feels like a brutally extemporaneous jam session, its unpredictable melodies a nod to the group’s fondness for anthropomorphized nature. Perhaps most significant about the group’s seventh effort is its lack argumentative content. Put another way, Emperor of Sand feels very much more abstract and descriptive of the world in which it’s housed; tracks like “Scorpion Breath” and “Roots Remain” seem to explicate the world around them, rather than call for a drastic societal change.  From: https://www.treblezine.com/34560-mastodon-emperor-of-sand-review/ 

 


Niyaz - Parishaan


Niyaz are a band that fit into no marketing category, that are absolutely brilliant and that are loved here in the Secret Archives of the Vatican. They make music that embodies all that is good: Persian traditional modes and tunings, complex yet funky ancient rhythms, finely crafted electronica, stunning vocals and masterful instrumental skills, all combined with fine production values. Their albums have very nice artwork too!
Niyaz, (which means ‘yearning’ in Persian), was formed in 2005 by vocalist Azam Ali, multi-instrumentalist Loga Ramin Torkian and producer and electronic musician Carmen Rizzo. Their new release is called Sumud – an Arabic word meaning steadfastness or
steadfast perseverance. This is a philosophical term that first emerged among the Palestinians in the wake of the Six-Day War. Azam Ali chose this philosophical term as a reminder that, as she explains: ‘Every human being should inherit the right to live with dignity and freedom upon the land on which they are born. We have now travelled across the world, and those experiences have affected the journey that we are on and the direction we’ve taken on this album. We’ve performed in the Kurdish parts of Turkey during times of major conflicts, as well as other parts of the Middle East. Obviously that has affected this project. We wanted to focus on the ethnic and religious minority groups in these regions, because they have really struggled to maintain their identity. It started from us wanting to tell our story, and it has evolved into this humanitarian social message, embracing regions around Iran.’
Sumud features reworkings of Turkish, Afghan, Palestinian, Kurdish and Persian folk songs. Carmen Rizzo explains: ‘When I heard Azam explain what sumud means, I had a lump in my throat. It’s very powerful and meaningful. Understand the meaning of the album makes the music even better. It’s not just ten songs. It’s an entire concept of this work.’
So, how does Sumud sound? Well, there is definitely more of an emphasis on the electronic side of their sound – this album has a less acoustic sound than the previous two. The opener, Parishaan, features a pulsing bass and sparse frame drum outlining a 12/8 time rhythm. Azam Ali’s voice is as mesmerizing as ever. Sosin sets itself in a cavernous sonic space. Once again the rhythm is tight and controlled. The acoustic instruments lock in with the understated electronic instruments to keep the driving feel all the way to the end of the track. Shah Sanam wraps itself in delay and reverberation effects which fade away at the end to lead us into perhaps the album’s star track. Mazaar features a special guest vocal appearance from Oscar-winning Indian composer, musician and singer AR Rahman. The song is a folkloric ode to the Afghan holy city of Mazar-e-Sharif. AR Rahman’s vocals are a perfect fit with Azam Ali’s – an awesome piece of music, with (to me at least) a qawwali feel, with superb percussion.  From: https://secretarchivesofthevatican.wordpress.com/2012/05/26/album-review-sumud-by-niyaz/


Minuit - Warheads


From The 88 to Last Night You Saw This Band there has been a great output from Minuit. Quite often there is a lot of work behind the scenes with music that the listeners don’t hear, from rehearsing to promotion. Has that been the case with Minuit and what are your views on mixing art with work after the last 11 years?

Woah. Huge question. How do you pay the rent? Art is work. People look at a band on stage and think, ah they must be best of buddies. But it’s heinously hard work. The fact we’re still together to do a final fling is our biggest achievement. Ha. We intentionally took on a lot of the work ourselves. We produced the albums ourselves. Ryan mixed all the material. We got other people to master it yes and do some artwork, and make videos, but the motivation came from us. Right down to the tours overseas. We worked with people to make it happen, but Minuit is extremely hands on for us.

Paul, you have taken the main management role for Minuit, for the sake of other musicians reading this interview, what 3 bits of advice could you give to self managed artists?

The scene has changed so much since we began. And the internet is opening things up. But I would say – Think small: Do what you know you can achieve and enjoy it. The worst times we’ve had were when we over stretched and were biting our nails ’til the end. That’s not a way to enjoy a gig.
But on the other hand, follow through with the ideas that come to mind that you really like: Don’t just do it the way other people do it, if you think something is going to suit your band (venue/online promo idea/set list/what ever ideas you can think up), do it! Who cares if it doesn’t work out. That’s what we’re awesome at in New Zealand, we don’t just follow other trends. Back yourself.
Get people involved: We did crowdfunding through PledgeMe for our vinyls and it was awesome, and intense. But one of the funniest times we’ve had dealing with people directly. I think it helped make people feel part of Minuit, which they are. And always answer other people’s emails.

Paul and Ryan, what are your origins with using electronic instruments, and what first drew you to them?

The mid 90s sound of Tricky and The Prodigy, they were new sounds for us, new styles. We’d come from guitar backgrounds and these were acts using electronic samples and instruments to make them sound like a band, but bigger and broader and creepier. They really inspired us to get samplers and work out how to use them and it felt like a brand new universe of finding any sound imaginable and using it in a tune.

Ruth, you started jamming in the Minuit line up on drums, do you still play?

A mate has borrowed my drum kit. But technically I still own it. Just saying Jacob. Ok.

Ruth, with The Final Fling tour approaching, and the “garage sales” of your old merch etc coming up, has this time inspired you to write or influenced your current writing?

Hmmm, not new stuff. I did a jelly installation down in Christchurch over Labour Weekend where 1000 kids came and built a city that was supposed to wobble. Does that count?

It might seem weird to ask but as there doesn’t seem to be any animosity in departure, are you all excited about the doors that may open in the next chapter, and do you have plans musically for the next year or so, or are you taking it as it comes?

Ryan will always do music I think. He has his studio and DJing and producing. Ruth, will probably be elbow deep in jelly. 16 years is a long time in band years. It’s been through a few different era’s. We really wanted to ‘bookend’ the catalogue and say, yes that’s what Minuit did. Finish it off. I think that’s healthy. And then move on. And we’re all cool with that. And then as you say that leaves several doors open.

I loved Paul’s quote in an interview from a while back: “the best way to make the Gods laugh is to tell them your plans”. Have you had or made time to really enjoy the little milestones along the way, and what are some of the unexpected highlights that have popped up over the years that Minuit fans may not know about?

First of all, I didn’t write the quote. But it does seem appropriate, right. You can plan all you like, but then life happens. I’m really proud of where we’ve ended up. Essentially we tried to do things that we wanted to do. Sometimes to our detriment. Sometimes getting us shows in Viet Nam. But we did things our way. There are always unknowns. Like the cooking course in Hoi An. Or the trip to the Artic Circle after the shows in Finland. Or using the lift in the rickety old St Petersburg apartment building when all the locals used the stairs. One of the things I’m most proud of is doing Ruth’s book. The lyrics and words in there are poetry. I even got one line tattooed, it made so much sense.

Although labelling an act like Minuit into “electronic” may be a little irritating, there is no doubt that you have had a big influence on electronic music in New Zealand. Are there any specific underground music groups or artists now – electronic, acoustic, pan pipes, Syd Barrett with a seashell – whatever style – that excites you or ignites your passion for music and who are they?

I never knew what Gamelan music was. And then we teamed up with an 18 piece traditional Balinese Gamelan and did two festivals one summer playing Minuit tunes. 21 people on stage, our samplers and these fiery, loud brass percussion instruments, all intricately and rhythmically played. That whole crew played Gamelan music ‘cos they loved it. Not for money or profit. But just to slam out some crazily funky tunes. Enormous respect. 

From: https://www.muzic.nz/interviews/the-final-fling-for-minuit/   


 

Nickel Creek - The Lighthouse's Tale


Today, the music community broadly known as Americana has too many stars, scenes and subcategories to count. Beloved artists like Jason Isbell and Kacey Musgraves, who in another era might have been all but ignored by country gatekeepers, have found a welcoming community and something in the neighborhood of household-name status. The Americana Music Festival, held annually in Nashville, grows larger each year. And in 2014, the Grammys gave the first awards in the newly created "American roots" categories, which encompass bluegrass, blues, folk, gospel and anything too left-of-center for the country mainstream.
But the music under this umbrella wasn't always the stuff of major festivals and glitzy awards shows, or of such broad interest to the youth market whose tastes drive the industry. At the turn of the 21st century, progressive-minded artists in this world were likely to be scattered across granular labels like contemporary folk or the then-popular "alt-country," with smaller audiences and fewer entry points for a casual listener. As it still does today, country radio leaned heavily commercial (though it did, at least, play music by women back then): In 2000, the songs that dominated genre playlists before finding crossover success were pop smashes like Faith Hill's "Breathe" and Lee Ann Womack's "I Hope You Dance." Traditionalists, meanwhile, carried on in the passionate but niche scenes they had occupied for years.
Then, 20 years ago this month, an album arrived that seemed to speak all these languages at once: unafraid to push the boundaries of its primary genre, and packing the musical chops to bring such an eclectic vision to life. Behind it were three musicians just barely old enough to vote.
When Nickel Creek released its breakthrough album on March 21, 2000, the players comprising the California-born bluegrass trio were anything but newcomers: Chris Thile and siblings Sara Watkins and Sean Watkins had been playing together since 1989, when Thile and Sara were just 8 and Sean 12. The young talents had already released two studio albums as well as a handful of solo projects, and were regulars on the bluegrass festival circuit, a tenure that had refined their sound to a level typically reserved for older players with bigger discographies. Still, despite arriving with a pages-long résumé, Nickel Creek is still popularly thought of as the trio's debut — perhaps because, in retrospect, everything about it seems to signal a new beginning.
Both to mainstream ears and those steeped in string music, what Nickel Creek was doing sounded fresh. The three musicians, then aged 18 to 23, found creative and playful ways to infuse bluegrass music with ideas from jazz, classical, pop and rock. They put traditional songs next to original material about characters from The Lord of the Rings. Perhaps most impressively, they did so in a way that felt cohesive, as though the new approach they had forged for themselves had roots as deep as bluegrass itself. Working in a genre known to spark arguments over what counts as "authentic," the trio seemed far more concerned with realizing its own vision than hewing to hardline conventions — like sticking to a repertoire of mostly folk songs and standards, using common chord progressions or relegating the guitarist to the rhythm section. (And how fortunate that Nickel Creek didn't, as Sean Watkins' masterful guitar solos are always album highlights.)
There was some precedent for this kind of deviation, of course. Veteran genre agnostic Béla Fleck, who made his studio debut in 1979, had racked up accolades for his singular take on banjo playing, which often treads closer to jam and world music than to traditional American bluegrass. Alison Krauss, who would be integral in bringing Nickel Creek to a wider audience, toyed with pop and rock tropes alongside her band Union Station, and is often considered a primary influence on the "newgrass" movement. In 1998, Lucinda Williams released her landmark album Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, which won the Grammy for best contemporary folk album. The same year, Wilco released its first Mermaid Avenue team-up with Billy Bragg, which featured new songs built around previously unheard lyrics by Woody Guthrie. The album was a critical and commercial success.
While nonconformists had found room in the conversation before, there was still something novel and uniquely compelling about the sight of three musicians, two in their teens and one in his early 20s, who revered Bach and Bill Monroe in equal measure. Krauss agreed, bringing the trio to Sugar Hill Records and producing Nickel Creek herself. Already a multi-Grammy winner upon meeting the group, Krauss had found great success both in bluegrass and adult contemporary, making her uniquely qualified to shepherd such an unconventional young act.
Nickel Creek found plenty of opportunities to challenge the notion of what bluegrass is. The virtuosity of the opening instrumental "Ode to a Butterfly" quickly establishes that these players aren't messing around, before the Thile-penned "The Lighthouse's Tale" shows that the youngsters are capable of writing narrative folk songs that sound for all the world like standards. Ballads like "Out of the Woods" and "When You Come Back Down" showcase classic musicianship, but wouldn't have sounded too far out of place on 2000s country radio. "Sweet Afton" and "In the House of Tom Bombadil" draw from literature, with the former crafted from a Robert Burns poem and the latter in homage to J.R.R. Tolkien. And to remind listeners of the trio's roots, the tracklist includes two interpretations of traditional songs in "Cuckoo's Nest" and "The Fox," with the band offering its own infectious, almost poppy arrangement of the latter.  From: https://www.npr.org/2020/03/13/814739478/nickel-creek-self-titled-20-years-americana-roots-folk-country


 

The Neptune Power Federation - Mondo Tomorrow


One band that has gained serious momentum in recent years is The Neptune Power Federation. Hailing from Australia, the group has evolved into a powerful force in expressive rock music, driven by a rebellious spirit.
They made their debut in 2012 with “Mano a Satano”, and have continued to raise the bar with each release since. Two years after “Goodnight My Children”, the five-piece band is back with their latest studio album, “Mondo Tomorrow”. While the band continues along its established musical path, they also introduce a few fresh elements. While earlier albums centred around Imperial Priestess and her adventures during historical periods such as the French Revolution, this time the journey shifts in the opposite direction — into the future. As the title suggests, “Mondo Tomorrow” offers a glimpse of what lies ahead, exploring themes of technology and the immense power held by those in control.
Musically, The Neptune Power Federation stays true to its roots — in fact, even more so than before. The title track, which opens the album, sets the tone with furious punk rock energy. This up-tempo and rebellious opener flows seamlessly into “The Grip of Death”. Driven by organ sounds and a grooving bassline, the latter creates a galactic atmosphere that leads into “And the Bones Decay”, a superb rock track packed with hooks. This song is one of the most accessible ones on the album, with a distinct ’70s retro charm that could win over new fans as a feel-good rock anthem.
“Living in the Gutter” roars through the speakers, showcasing a darker and heavier sound. The spirit of the ’70s also resonates in “Mind Controller” while “Cybernetic Times” is driven by a ferocious rhythm. The latter is something of a curveball: layered and complex, it requires time and attention to fully unfold. In this way, it acts as a counterpart to “And the Bones Decay”, gradually revealing its depth.
After such a demanding track, listeners are rewarded with the more straightforward, rock-infused “Rhapsody in Blue”. The album closes with “The Barbarian Dominion”, combining atmosphere, raw riffs and an in-your-face attitude. It is a powerful and fitting finale from a distinctive band.
With “Mondo Tomorrow” The Neptune Power Federation takes another step forward while remaining firmly rooted in their musical identity. The album reflects the band’s signature sound while also pushing boundaries and embracing creative growth. The result is a versatile record offering everything from catchy rock anthems to more challenging compositions that reward repeated listening.  From: https://markusheavymusicblog.org/2026/04/08/review-the-neptune-power-federation-mondo-tomorrow/



 

Midlake - Antiphon


Denton, Texas’ Midlake is not a band to shy away from ambition. At least since the release of second album The Trials of Van Occupanther (2006), the band’s thematic interests have concerned nothing less than humankind’s place in the world. Like the narratives of Terrence Malick, Midlake’s songs point the mind and the heart to the natural world and the fascination it holds for man, even (or especially) when he feels he’s walking alone. In describing their songs, one tries to find words more descriptive than “rustic” or “druidic”, but often those are the best fit. The sonic qualities of Midlake, including piano and flute, are immediately engaging, making no bones about the many 1960s and 1970s folk and rock antecedents that influence the band.
All of these elements have a special meaning on Antiphon, the new album that emerges following a period of transition. A year ago, longtime singer and songwriter Tim Smith left the band. He told his band mates that most of the material from the past two years of writing and recording would not be available to them. In hindsight, the lineup’s last effort together (2010’s masterpiece The Courage of Others) could be interpreted as offering hints about Smith’s isolation (as an artist, a perfectionist, a would-be ascetic, etc.). Among the many telling lyrics on that album was this passage from “Small Mountain”: “Upon that road I had struggled to find / A way of life that was common for all / And all that runs on the mountain was mine / A way of life that will surely be gone.”
Despite its compositional and contemplative beauty, The Courage of Others was also a very heavy album. That it now exists as the final statement of the “classic” Midlake lineup recasts its lyrical themes as life’s real burdens: The ceaseless passing of time, the need for leave-taking, and the temptation to entirely retreat from human contact. As if predestined, these concerns have transferred from the band’s songs to the band’s structure. The choice to continue on as Midlake without Smith gives the band members an opportunity to go wherever they want stylistically. As the result of and response to these events, Antiphon is both familiar and different. It is neither entirely bound to the band’s past identity nor pressured to become something unrecognizable. Eric Pulido, promoted to frontman and performing quite ably, works together with the other five members of the studio and live band to make an impression that he characterizes as “less folk and more rock; less nostalgic and more progressive.”
Mixed by proven reinvigorator Tony Hoffer, Antiphon delivers on those stated goals. The album is more sonically adventurous than much of the band’s back catalogue. The title track features McKenzie Smith’s drumming (busier than ever) and guitar and synthesizer sounds that promise previously unplumbed levels of energy and spontaneity. Effectively unleashing the band from Smith’s controlling perspective, “Antiphon” plays like Midlake’s version of “Nothing is the News”, Damien Jurado’s equally unexpected prog-influenced opener from last year’s Maraqopa.
It must be said that Smith’s precision was a double-edged sword. While his specificity of vision is reported to have stifled productivity and collaboration, it also bore that remarkable first half of The Trials of Van Occupanther, as well as the enveloping The Courage of Others, on which he ascended to the height of his forest canopy and narrated the view. Some of Antiphon‘s forward steps feel like unnecessary indulgences that could benefit from additional editing/control. For instance, the wide-open drums of the title track are needlessly fill-happy on other songs like “Provider” and “This Weight”. Improvisatory instrumental “Vale” seems out of place. Is it the product of musicians having fun with their newfound room to breathe, or is it one of the dead ends that brought the old version of the band to a halt? Regardless of which is closest to the truth, the song and its placement in the sequence threaten to stop the propulsive forward motion of the album up to that point. “Vale” is especially questionable as it follows “It’s Going Down”, a song that seamlessly blends voices, guitars, and keys in the classic Midlake style, attesting to a formula that needn’t necessarily be broken.
The most effective songs on Antiphon are those that one-up the band’s former approach with confidence, skill and purpose. “Ages” hasn’t received much attention, but it’s the most striking song here. Its lyrics are ambiguous, but they plant the idea of impermanence – a concept that fuels the urgency of the song. The third minute of the song introduces brief but fascinating feats of musicianship and mixing. A heartbeat-like drum pattern that has been part of the song throughout, emerges and becomes a dramatic object of focus as a wayward synthesizer line rises to rival the album’s guitar skronk. The synthesizer approximates (and then begets) a guitar solo. It’s a combination of sounds that would have broken the mood of The Courage of Others, but here they constitute the lifeblood of Antiphon.  From: https://www.popmatters.com/176314-midlake-antiphon-2495710428.html


Tracy Bonham - The One


"The song 'The One,' and actually the whole album, is about this one particular ex-boyfriend and my life leading up to that, and my life inside that relationship," Tracy Bonham explained in a Songfacts interview. "It was a really destructive, very abusive relationship where I was almost quite literally locked in the bedroom. One of those stories where this person was really manipulative, abusive and degrading. I fell into this trap and I was afraid to leave because I was afraid of him. So when I speak to him and I say, 'You're the one that froze the sun,' it quite literally felt that way. He blocked out all of the light in my life for about four years."
"The One" was Tracy Bonham's second single. This was a time when women who wrote and performed their own songs were finally getting their due. Lilith Fair started up the next year, and Bonham joined it for two tours. As trends shifted to dance-pop and nu-metal, it left less room for Bonham. Her recorded label, Island, went through a re-organization, and by the time her next album was released in 2000, Lilith Fair was scuttled and it was very hard for artists like her to earn airplay. She ended up leaving the label and going independent. Trained in classical violin, she developed a program in 2021 teach kids about music.
The music video was supposed to be directed by Jake Scott, who did Bonham's video for "Mother Mother," but that didn't pan out. They ended up making what Bonham calls a "throwaway video" using shots from an alternate version of "Mother Mother" directed by Pamela Birkhead that takes place in a hallway where Tracy and her band perform.  From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/tracy-bonham/the-one


Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - You Don't Have To Cry - Live 1970


Written by Stephen Stills, You Don't Have To Cry was the first song Crosby, Stills & Nash played together, though there are at least three different stories about where CSN sang together for the first time.
Graham Nash: "David and I believe that it was in Joni Mitchell's living room that we first sang together. Stephen and David wanted to show me a song that they had worked on in two part harmony. The song was 'You Don't Have to Cry' written by Stephen. They sang it once, I asked them to sing it again, they sang it a second time, I asked for another performance. On the third attempt I put my high harmony on and it sounded awesome. I knew in my heart that this was something I wanted to do for the next few years. The musical, social aspect of combining these three voices with the words that we had come up with was very exciting to all three of us. We knew that we could sing, that the sound was unique and that what we had to say was worth saying. And here we are 30 years later still doing it with all the energy of teen-agers!"
Stills started writing the song as a love letter to his long-distance love interest Judy Collins, who was committed to living in New York to grow her career and pursue psychotherapy for issues connected to her alcoholism. Stills wrote "You Don't Have to Cry" and "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" to try to convince her to come live with him in California. She did visit the studio around this time, but ultimately decided there were too many potential triggers for her alcoholism.  From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/crosby-stills-nash/you-dont-have-to-cry 

 

Black Spikes - Hipnozė


To approach Black Spikes’ 2025 release, ‘NIL,’ is to confront a band that has deliberately severed the tether to the “folk” aesthetic that has long defined their region, opting instead for a sound that is mechanical, precise, and devastatingly futuristic.
As both a critic and journalist who has spent more than thirty years cataloging the rise and fall of subgenres, observing the transition from the tape-trading underground to the digital present, the arrival of ‘NIL’ feels less like a release and more like a coronation. It is a dense, suffocatingly beautiful record that demands more than a casual listen; it requires an excavation.
The title itself—‘NIL’—invokes the Latin nihil, suggesting a focus on nothingness, a zero-point energy from which all creation and destruction flows. Yet, the music is anything but empty. It is replete with texture, laden with the heavy machinery of low-tuned guitars, and embroidered with the delicate, poisonous threads of symphonic orchestration. It marks a definitive moment, not just for the band, but for the trajectory of female-fronted metal in Northern Europe.
To comprehend the architectural triumph of ‘NIL,’ one must first survey the bedrock upon which it is built. Black Spikes is not an immaculate conception; it is the result of a long, arduous gestation within the Lithuanian underground. The band’s core members, particularly the enigmatic vocalist Agnieška Vrubliauskienė (formerly Agnieška Volček), have a lineage that traces back to the symphonic folk metal outfit Berserker.
Active from 2009 to 2023, Berserker was a significant entity in the Vilnius scene. Their music was characterized by melodic power metal infused with folk passages, often tackling themes of “Dark Worlds Collide” and Viking lore. In those early recordings, one could hear the genesis of Agnieška’s vocal prowess. She was described as possessing a strong and powerful female vocal capability, often framed by the fantastical—tales of wolves, viking ships, and battles for the earth.
Critiques of Berserker from that era noted a multidimensional sound that took aim at various musical paths, experimenting with melodic death metal and heavy metal while retaining a “thashy powery” approach. However, there was a sense that the folk metal genre, with its reliance on flutes and drinking songs, was becoming a constraint. The dissolution of Berserker in 2023 and the subsequent sharpening of Black Spikes represented a shedding of this “folk” skin.
The formation of Black Spikes around 2020 (overlapping with the final years of Berserker) signaled a desire for a more modern, aggressive identity. The lineup that solidified for ‘NIL’—Simona Karinauskaitė on bass, Mažvydas Vrubliauskas and Leif Yaga on guitars, and Gediminas on drums—represents a pivot toward modern metal. This term, often nebulous, here refers to a synthesis of the down-tuned, rhythmic focus of djent (popularized by bands like Meshuggah and Gojira) with the cinematic atmosphere of symphonic metal.
The band’s visual component became equally paramount, evolving into a tableau of high-concept theatricality. Where their predecessors might have donned chainmail or linen tunics, Black Spikes adopted an aesthetic that merges industrial aristocracy with spectral decay: sharp pinstripe suits held together by safety pins, severe white face paint fractured by painted cracks, and signature electric blue lips that pierce the monochrome palette.
The inclusion of dancers—Toma and Emilija—into their live lineup was a masterstroke, introducing a physical narrative reminiscent of the avantgarde performance art of Butoh or the industrial grandiosity of Rammstein. This was no longer music for the campfire; this was music for the concrete bunker.  From: https://www.atmostfear-entertainment.com/columns/periscope/black-spikes-a-retrospective-descent-into-the-imperial-abyss-with-nil/