The point of departure for the book «Black Ark» with Lee “Scratch” Perry (1936–2021), a Jamaican musical and visual artist who was based in Switzerland, is a detailed inventory of photographs and writings (Spring 2021) from the Black Ark Studios in Kingston, Jamaica, where Lee produced his music from 1973 on. He was a seminal pioneer of dub, an electronic subgenre of reggae that uses sampling, looping, remixing, reverb and echoes to create new songs as well as rework  and appropriate pre-recorded songs and tracks. Black Ark Studios was one of the cradles of dub. It’s also where Lee “Scratch” Perry’s musical approach found an enduring visual counterpart in the form of continuously evolving mural paintings and drawings  as well as shape-shifting assemblages of records, instruments, found objects, posters, newspaper and magazine clippings, and appropriated books. The artworks form actual layers upon layers that are rhizomatically intertwined with the studio building itself  as well as with the furniture inside—and with Perry’s biography and persona. Perry created his very own, dense and eclectic world—a world that is documented in «Black Ark», before it disappears for good: the premises have recently been sold. The photographic documentation of the studio was supplemented by efforts to secure and preserve Perry’s cultural objects as part of a joint project with various cultural institutions. «Black Ark» which reflects the rhythm and layering effects of collage both in its content and the materials used to craft the book. Perry was involved in the conception of the book in its early stages. It also interweaves various media and chronologies. The new photographs of the Black Ark Studios will be juxtaposed with stills from old documentaries and archival photos. The idea of a “house” serves as both a working hypothesis and a metaphor. It will be the starting point and endpoint of various thematic strands, both visual and textual: for example, the book will explore the Black Ark as a “spiritual yard” in the context of African diaspora, as well as looking into archeomusicological aspects. Furthermore, extended captions by Perry’s biographer will provide the backdrop for a kaleidoscopic panorama of Perry’s eclectic and ingenious work. Hardcover, 667 pages, 236 color images, 45 B/W images Edition Patrick Frey, 2nd edition, April 2026

Available as 16bit FLAC or 320kbp MP3 Tracklisting: 1. Membrane 1 - 21:242. Membrane 2 - 17:54“These guys know what they’re doing and so there’s no faffing about. They’re locked in from the first seconds of Membrane 1, setting up a long, ringing sequence of notes, driven by Wastell’s metallic tam-tam murmurs. At first things are slow and sub aqueous, Wastell setting up a liquid sonic field that makes everything like it is taking place at the bottom of a cold, clear ocean. Butcher comes in sensitively at first, his breathy hisses moving through the shimmer like an eel. At around 11 minutes, he casts forth some simple, abstract phrases, before slipping back into the depths. Beins is even more circumspect and, occasionally, it’s tricky to figure out whether the electronic tones and chain-like rattles that occasionally ripple across the surface of this piece are him or one of the other two. There’s definitely something going on, however, something creating that sense of textured depth that seems, on the whole, organic but sometimes humming like a vast, dormant machine." - Paul Margree --- Burkhard Beins / feedback, 28" concert bass drum, analog synth & live-electronics John Butcher / tenor & soprano saxophones, acoustic & amplified feedbacking Mark Wastell / amplified 32" paiste tam-tam & mixer --- Recorded live at Cafe OTO, on 13 April 2014 by James Dunn. Mixed & mastered by John Butcher.

Felsen’s haunting follow-up to the acclaimed Deceit, a landmark of émigré fiction.  Happiness (1932) is the second novel in Yuri Felsen’s cycle The Recurrence of Things Past. Written as a diary addressed to his beloved Lyolya, it unfolds as an intense stream of consciousness in which Volodya – its anxious, self-scrutinising narrator – revisits the fragile equilibrium of their difficult relationship. When new figures enter Lyolya’s orbit, Volodya’s hard-won certainties begin to collapse. Forced to contend with a series of rivals – a Soviet film star, a dashing ex-soldier, a wealthy businessman – he is driven ever deeper into jealousy and self-analysis, with tragic results. As the relationship fractures, Volodya probes the uneasy bond between emotional suffering and artistic creation, and the elusive nature of happiness itself. Set among the exiled Russian community of interwar Paris, Happiness offers both a vivid social snapshot and an unnerving psychological portrait. Felsen’s exploration of desire, rivalry, masculinity and self-deception, shaped by shifting sexual and emotional mores, feels strikingly modern.trans. Bryan Karetnyk Softcover, 238pp Prototype, 2026

Articles: Shabaka by Tina Edwards, Booker Stardrum by Clifford Allen, Aurora Nealand by Bennett Kirschner, Jazz Now Jazz by Rui Miguel Abreu, The Space Book by Patrick Preziosi, XT by XT (Paul Abbott & Seymour Wright), Naïssam Jalal by Florent Servia, Craig Taborn by Bret Sjerven, the term "Free Jazz" by Pierre Crépon, Alexander Hawkins by Kevin Le Gendre Alan Braufman by Andy Beta, Discaholic column by Mats Gustafsson, album reviews, live reviews, Big Ears Festival photo essay & more.  Softcover, 128 pages We Jazz, Spring 2026

Sotto le Nuvole arrives as a limited edition one sided LP with artwork by Gianfranco Rosi. Designed by Maja Larrson. Produced, recorded and mixed by Daniel Blumberg. Recorded at Daniel’s flat, London and underwater in Baia, Italy. Additional recording by Alberto Landolfi. Mixed at Timeline Studio, Rome. Additional mixing by Stefano Grosso. Mixing Assistant: Giancarlo Rutigliano. Mastered and cut by Loop-O.In Gianfranco Rosi’s portrait of Naples, Sotto le Nuvole (Pompei: Below The Clouds), the ground shakes periodically. Between Mount Vesuvius and theTyrrhenian Sea, the fumaroles of the Phlegraean Fields hiss volcanic gas and steam. Below the sleeping volcano, modern day Naples emerges in black and white and fills with voices, with lives. From the traces of history and the concerns of the present, Rosi documents a city immersed in its continuous past, with Daniel Blumberg’s minimal soundscape hovering in a sonic space between liquid and air. Tasked with creating a soundscape that would suspend space within Rosi’s film, Blumberg called upon the extended technique of saxophonists Seymour Wright and John Butcher to create a gossamer fabric of traces and sounds abstracted from their instruments. Having transitioned from theoretical physics to the saxophone, John Butcher has always deeply considered space in the context of his playing. His concerns are with flow, density and how the saxophone is situated in the living world. Zeroing in on the core sonic properties of the mechanical and acoustic components of the saxophone, Seymour Wright has integrated its every breath, reed vibration, keypad clatter and hissed microtone of his alto into his own, unique improvisational language. In his work with these two seminal players, Blumberg makes his most concentrated soundtrack to date - reinforcing the film's sense of overlapping time and space, and pushing at the limits of experimentation. Initially recorded in Daniel’s flat in London, Butcher and Wright centre themselves around long, consistent tones, so soft that it seems breath is being gently pulled from the saxophone's bell by an invisible hand. Blumberg himself adds haunting bass harmonica, and recordings of Wright’s launeddas - a traditional and ancient triple pipe polyphonic reed instrument from Sardinia, Italy. Blumberg then travelled to the volcanic region of Baia, next to Pompeii. Once a flourishing classical Roman city loved by Nero, Baia slowly sank under hydrothermal pressure, leaving the city in a kind of geological purgatory. Using specialised geophones and hydrophones, Blumberg took those initial recordings and amplified them underwater, sending them calling out across the ruins of Baia’s mosaics, Nymphaeum statues and villas.  “It was important to me that the music was whispered in the same landscape that Gianfranco has worked for the past three years, so that you can hear the volcanic air gulping, the lapping of the waves, the steam and bubbles popping against John and Seymour’s saxophone breaths – an echo from a suspended time.”   What emerges is deeply melancholic, tender, subtle and right at the edges of audio technology. Submerged in an aquarian mausoleum, the mysterious vibrations of the saxophone and its bell become an echo of an echo, wading from the future into the past.  --- Seymour Wright / alto saxophone, launeddasJohn Butcher / soprano & tenor saxophoneDaniel Blumberg / bass harmonica

Music in Continuous Motion, Bill Orcutt’s latest entry in his 21st-century repertoire of quartet guitar music, pointedly steps away from the cut-and-paste constructivism of Music for Four Guitars into a sonic stratum that's yearningly melodic, resolutely human, and built for performance. Conceived for a 2026 NYC concert, Music in Continuous Motion shares the concision of its predecessor -- but rather than the discrete, mechanistic precision of Music for Four Guitars, the tracks on Music in Continuous Motion unify — each song weaving four gleaming threads into the warp and weft of an evolving, complex texture that employs simple, repeating motifs to build new melodies from counterpoint itself. It accomplishes this in the most efficient manner possible: most of these 12 tracks hover around two-and-a-half minutes, each iterating first the substrate, then the melody and its variations, then slamming shut like a clockwork music box.Based on previous recorded evidence, Orcutt is fond of boundary conditions for his studio guitar records. Much of the time, his launchpad is obvious (The Four Louies, How to Rescue Things); with others, it’s intentionally obscured. When recruiting me to write about each release, he might send me a clue (“This is a bridge pickup record more than a neck pickup record,” Orcutt helpfully offered for Music for Four Guitars). Although any given dispatch is a potential red herring, up until now, each has implied an Oulipian conceit (however obtuse) that at least somewhat determines the outcome. Thus, I was a bit surprised by his statement on Music in Continuous Motion -- “The mystery of how [the] same person, same process, same gear produces different results." When pressed, he elaborated that the record features “no triplets,” something I’ve yet to count out to determine for myself.Whatever overarching form the recording process may have mapped out, the path of the finished album is explicitly poetic. Echoing its predecessor, the song titles, read in sequence, paint fleetingly-glimpsed forms -- but in contrast to the distant shapes described in Music For Four Guitars, the present narrative spotlights the dance of polygons momentarily grasped (and then lost) as they spin through space: “Because sharp also smooth,” “And warm to the touch,” “Now nearly gone,” “Yet always moving,” “Impossible to reach.” Ultimately, the key difference between the albums (and what places Music in Continuous Motion in the realm of poetry) is its celebration of movement over immutability, of melody over form, of music as a hot wire to the heart rather than another upped ante in an arms race of inscrutability. — TOM CARTER