The collaboration between these two North Carolina projects feels, upon listening, almost inevitable. Magic Tuber Stringband (Evan Morgan and Courtney Werner) is an instrumental duo often employing traditional Appalachian-style playing within contemporary drone and song-oriented contexts to create undulating, cathartic, organic compositions. Weirs (Justin Morris and Oliver Child-Lanning) is a bit more stylistically diverse, but very much rooted in the fascinating crossover of traditional and contemporary music which is recently abundant in the mid and south-Atlantic states.Recorded live with field recorders inside Virginia’s pitch-black Crozet Tunnel, the album presents four individuals experiencing the beautiful and intense sonics of both interior and exterior space, and their own forms of communication with one another. The singing in particular is powerful. Flat, strong broad voices without vibrato evoke a sense of the tragic or stern, notable in opener “Bright Morning Star” (originally a Masonic hymn which entered the American folk lexicon)—as if things might at any moment descend into dissonant sadness—but then become gentle and anodyne, trafficking not in freak-folk innocence but authentic connection to their sources. As potentially radical as the old music is, the solidly unhurried pacing of both the “song sections” and “drones” allows each word of each line, each vocal plait, each scrape of echoed object, to ring with surprise.The performances emphasize the distinctively rich reverb of the physical space, using the acoustics to re-situate the art in the heart of the land. Side B is an entrancing altered playback of the music from Side A, re-recorded under a dome behind a science museum in which the surrounding ambience layers seamlessly with the music: bird and insect sounds, shuffling movements, a child’s voice. Far from feeling performative or even conceptual, this feels earned and intimate, teaching the listener about the interplay between the music and the site of its creation. That the musicians semi-jokingly refer to this side as a “dub version” reflects the depth and breadth of their vision.

This meet-up between two thoughtful practitioners of minimal and process-oriented music succeeds not because it is resourceful but because its gestures are clearheaded. Disciplined and exploratory, it is like observing someone fixing a watch: methodical and calm, periodically getting up and selecting a tool, working for stretches of full concentration, and hearing the footsteps and rustle of clothing. The titles of the pieces – “Distinct” and “Concealed” – suggest tensions between public self-presentation and private self-knowledge, and yet these recordings were made live, with sounds of the room and the activity and movements of the players suggesting a theatricality that complicates both poles. “Distinct” plays like a long-delayed catch-up session between friends, seriousness arising periodically before resolving into active and glassy communication. If “Distinct” is a catch-up, “Concealed” plays as a tense second meeting: piano-led, with zipped spoken-word loops and long stretches of pause, eventually falling into a satisfying equilibrium. The barely controlled nature of no-input mixing confronts the more manageable elements of electronics and tape, with keyboards complicating the relationship. In thThis meet-up between two thoughtful practitioners of minimal and process-oriented music succeeds not because it is resourceful but because its gestures are clearheaded. Disciplined and exploratory, it is like observing someone fixing a watch: methodical and calm, periodically getting up and selecting a tool, working for stretches of full concentration, and hearing the footsteps and rustle of clothing. The titles of the pieces – “Distinct” and “Concealed” – suggest tensions between public self-presentation and private self-knowledge, and yet these recordings were made live, with sounds of the room and the activity and movements of the players suggesting a theatricality that complicates both poles. “Distinct” plays like a long-delayed catch-up session between friends, seriousness arising periodically before resolving into active and glassy communication. If “Distinct” is a catch-up, “Concealed” plays as a tense second meeting: piano-led, with zipped spoken-word loops and long stretches of pause, eventually falling into a satisfying equilibrium. The barely controlled nature of no-input mixing confronts the more manageable elements of electronics and tape, with keyboards complicating the relationship. In the hands of Baron and Martin, minimalism is a constant and active search.

The Pennsylvania improvising trio of Kevin Sims, James Searfoss, and Justin Dorsey continue to hone their fierce and potent relationship with texture, rhythm, and amorphous sound forms. This album is laced with musical paths travelled and skirted, conversant with drone, electroacoustics, and free jazz. “Glint” functions as a bit of an overture, and as “Once Threw” expands on the clatter and clamber, Dorsey’s bass becomes a focal point, taking a prominent position in the mix and making radically clear signal-point gestures that bring about significant changes, exploring new rooms and leading the way into them. The arresting “Chiffon Blues” opens with Sims’ psaltery, leading a mournful bluesy atmosphere into melodic sweetness, tumbling into undulating percussion held lovingly by a walking bassline and Searfoss’ honest and energetic saxophone playing. The assuredly paced “Until” orbits eccentrically between vertiginous sustained passages and swirling, fragmented chases of resonant metallic percussion and mysterious and distant textural tape loops. Tension is a central tenet of this trio, and here they keep things so taut that an engaging dynamic balance is maintained throughout. --- Kevin Sims - percussion, trombone, psaltery, fluteJames Searfoss - alto sax, tape loopsJustin Dorsey - upright bass --- Recorded July '23 in Aaronsburg PAMixed by Kevin SimsMastered by James SearfossArtwork by E. Lindorff-ElleryPrinted by Small Fires Press 

Otoroku presents "cracked breath folds", a heady, labyrinthine release from Nantes-based artist, David Papapostolou. Mixing phone recordings, percussion, saxophone, and voice, the album blurs the boundaries between found and composed, hi-fi and lo-fi, vocalisation and meaning, performer and place; with the outside world never far from encroaching upon the performed elements, sometime adjacent, often seemingly a willing accomplice. In David's own words: "I wanted to find some form of immediacy in the process of making the music happen. I explored creating material using means that I would have with me at all or most of the time: my voice, my phone, outdoor space. Finding a sense of freedom in voicing sounds outside, on the street, in an underpass. To reach that tipping point in pushing a musical situation towards something happening, It often feels like taking a bold step had been necessary." The bold steps of the undertaking are hard to refute. Opener, babnacrabni, sets the tone for the album, with disassociated spectral voices merging with the muted natural sounds, whilst a spasmodic saxophone line punctuates the crepuscular murk. Second track, crrrrrrrtttttttii runs on its own internal logic, each rising vocal refrain leading to the next in a ceaselessly yearning chorus that builds inexorably before seemingly interrupting itself, leaving the disparate threads to fray freely at the edge of the weave. Elsewhere, grrgles seems to eavesdrop upon an urgent undertaking whose purpose remains tantalisingly opaque; mlzaamlzfcrx's initial pastoral idyll gradually takes a turn into the eerie, with a tentative choir underpinned by cymbals sighing into the gloaming; and closer mmsmmsmsmmmm knots an intricate tangle of voice tones which gradually glitch and distort into new assemblages that slowly rise up out of the throat until only the breath remains. Drawing concrete meaning from the album's five pieces might be akin to seeing shapes in smoke; such a conspicuously personal creative approach must surely yield an equally unique response in each listener. Immerse yourself in its patterns however, and your own forms and visions will surely come. -- Recorded and put together between April and June 2024

Otoroku is proud to present a prodigious, captivating album of solo guitar improvisations from Basque musician, Joseba Irazoki. Ranging across 23 tracks, the two parts of the album act almost as fractal mirrors; each reflecting the other in myriad ways, teasing out fresh threads and intricacies with each listen. Gitarra Lekeitioak (Onomatopeikoa II) follows on from Irazoki's 2017 Gitarra Onomatopeikoa release, and that album's sense of untethered, questing curiosity is not only carried over but expanded upon even further here. Combining a fully committed approach to the guitar with an almost egoless lightness of touch, Gitarra Lekeitioak (Onomatopeikoa II) builds upon the already impressively scopious range of Gitarra Onomatopeikoa to dizzying effect. From the gated tone-and-noise and abrasive melodies of opener RO 276, to the driving, mesmeric thrust of 3KO; the yearning, twilight refrains of 396267, to the delicate, harmonic patter of MU; the acoustic virtuosity of CHESHIRE HOTEL to the semi-scrambled electronic ‘duet’ of OSOL, Irazoki makes full use of an impressively broad palette. Yet nothing feels forced, nothing is for show – there’s just a sense of open-hearted generosity. In lesser hands such a whirlwind tour of style and form might risk failing to get its hooks in deep enough, yet not only does Irazoki have the imaginative scope to tackle these varying approaches to the instrument, he has the technical chops to pull it off. Each composition seems to have an openness of intent that is utterly disarming; all cards are on the table and nothing is held back, resulting in a creative tour de force that builds, piece by piece, to a unifying cohesiveness that makes the whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Featuring contributions from long-time OTO favourites Rhodri Davies and Raphael Roginski, Gitarra Lekeitioak (Onomatopeikoa II) is nevertheless unmistakably a work of singular craft and vision. -- "I recorded this album between November 2023 and May 2024 in the studio of Eztegara's house. Iñigo Irazoki has done the mixing at Atala studios. This album is the continuation of "Gitarra Onomatopeikoa" that I released in 2017. I have continued to look for new paths with the guitar trying to work on my own voice, using "instant composition" formula. All the music has been created by me, except for the "Hotel Hor Cheshire", composed by Sazem. In two pieces I have been accompanied by the Polish guitarist Raphael Roginski and the Welsh harpist Rhodri Davies. The cover has been made by Ramón Zabalegi. Thanks to everyone who has helped me making the album." - Joseba Irazoki, October 2024, in tribute to Mikel Laboa.

This recording from the earlier years of Cafe Oto documents the impossible pairing of four contemporary giants. Its one of those miraculous one off groupings that reminds us why the venue opened in the first place.’ “The magic of the first minutes – an alto solo by Joe McPhee of true purity – soft-spoken, masterful and accomplished – brought back to mind the blissful Coleman/Haden duet last year at the Royal Festival Hall. ‘Ornette gave me freedom to move in a certain way,’ said McPhee. He searched hesitantly and carefully for his words, all the more surprising from such an articulate musical (or, as he might say ‘muse-ical’) practitioner and campaigner. Coleman’s 80th birthday coincided with McPhee’s stint at Cafe Oto. McPhee and his co-musicians delivered an intense performance which was both creative and restrained. With Evan Parker ‘s tenor in tow – a collaboration going back to the late 70s – and Lol Coxhill, sitting with head bowed intently, a soprano master – it could have gone anywhere, yet they worked off each other, often in the higher registers, building up almost bird-call like interactions and trills. Earlier, Chris Corsano‘s drumming presented a dense bedrock for McPhee to play against, and his solo spell was a crisp exercise in sonic curiosity. McPhee picked up his soprano mid-way through the second set, heightening the lyricism of the three saxophones. Then, being a devotee of Don Cherry, he switched to pocket trumpet, allowing him to interject, and punctuate the concentrated sound layers built up by the quartet, and lead the music out through a different door”- Geoff Winston (londonjazznews.com) Recorded 10th March 2010, this is also a document of the only time Lol Coxhill and Joe Mcphee shared the stage. The recording is a little rough, but hey, so was your birth! Limited to 500 copies packaged in mini gatefold sleeve.