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Artist: BAIRD, MEG
Title: Waltze Of The Tennis Players
Format: 7"
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $7.00
"Tequila Sunrise Records is proud to release the first recordings by Meg Baird under her own name. Meg has been singing and performing since she was a kid with her sister Laura as a charter member of thse traditional folk duo the Baird Sisters, though she is currently best known as one of the "female larynxes" of the communal Philadelphia band Espers. Or we should say, best known as the siren-voiced singer for same. Or, perhaps, we could let Nick Carraway describe the quality of her voice for us: The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain. I had to follow the sound of it for a moment, up and down, with my ear alone before any words came through. We asked Meg to record something with a country-waltz flavor, and she courteously obliged us with a graceful and bittersweet cover of Waltze of the Tennis Players by the under-appreciated 60s folksters Fraser and Debolt. The mushrooms are growing in every new boot print, my, my, my. For the B-side, she recorded an alternate version of "Dear Companion", a track from her forthcoming LP. Its an ancient melody, an aching lament sung "in the style of the chapel", with Meg whisper-singing right into your ear, or maybe just to herself as she folds the laundry and does the dishes. You can see things more clearly when you shut your eyes. So here is a taste from the Meg Baird solo LP (due Christmas 2006), enough to wet your whistle and whet your appetite. You will want to hear more." - Tequila Sunrise.

Artist: BLEU, DORA, TOM CARTER & SAM SHALABI
Title: Circle of Crosses
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $23.00
"The Hill of Crosses in Siauliai, Lithuania (56°0055N 23°2500E) is one of the most demented folk-art installations on the planet, a thicket of 100,000+ crosses, crucifixes, graven images, minor effigies, rosaries and other pilgrim-offerings dating back almost 200 years and maybe longer. It is a monument to accretion, to the endless addition of one more thing. It has its parallels in the votive-stuffed caves of Arkalochori (35° 8 0.76"N, 25° 15 26.94"E) and Psychro (35.1628055°N 25.4448972°E), as well as the Buddha-stuffed caves of Mogao (40°0217.98N 94°4815.28E), Bezeklik (42° 57 22 N, 89° 32 41 E), and Pak Ou (20.0489°N 102.2101°E). At this Hill of Crosses, one rubs up against what Aliferis has called das Überwältigensein (“the overwhelm”) in one of its many forms. In the past, human encounters with the overwhelm were always described in religious terms: a glimpse into the abyss that staggers human speech, and our need to fill that void with a force that eclipses human measure; that is to say, God. But in 2012, our horror vacui has replaced God with ourselves, and the overwhelm we face is a socially constructed one, of endless surveillance and information-gathering, where everywhere is the same and anywhere is nowhere, and where the principle of too-muchness prevails unceasingly: “Labour unparallelld! a wondrous rocky World of cruel destiny / Rocks piled on rocks reaching the stars; stretching from pole to pole.”

Clearly we have lost our bearings. Clearly the need is for something on a smaller scale. Clearly we must reclaim the void. To that end, Fire Museum (39.955117°N 75.161240°W) and Tequila Sunrise Records (39.969203°N 75.14505°W) present this gathering of guitar-driven emanations, the first side leafy, lyrical and acoustic, the second side an astringent application of electric gnarl. “Circle of Crosses” brings together folk pythia Dora Bleu (guitar and vocal) with psych-improv wizards Sam Shalabi and Tom Carter (guitars and other instruments). It links Tripoli (32°548N 13°119E) to Washington D.C (38°5342.4N 77°0212.0W) and Houston (29°4546N 95°2259W), not to mention Mile End (45°3130N 73°3500W) to Louvain-la-Neuve (50° 40 4 N, 4° 36 42 E). Consider these songs map coordinates for safe-houses from das Überwältigensein, a set of precise locales for ecstasy, atheist shrines, or open spaces for reverie in the forgotten recesses of the planetary connectome.
" - John Cleves Symmes, Jr., Tequila Sunrise.

Artist: HEART LAND
Title: S/T
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $24.00
"Heart Land hail from New Hope, PA. Its a liminal place, halfway between everything, where all the lines blur and where things arent always what they seem. I remember one autumn evening a quarter-century ago, when New Hope first got under my skin. In that twilight moment, legendary psychedelic LP collector Veronica Breth (then still known as Gregg) let me in on her little secret: Its better to sell 100 records at $150.00 apiece, she whispered in her kiss-of-the-spider-woman purr, than it is to sell 1000 records at $15.00 each... I dont know if it was the ginseng wine, or the unbearable straightness of her long blonde hair, or the way s/he French-inhaled her clove cigarette, but the whole conversation made me a little light-headed. At that time, the notion struck me as elitist to the point of vampirism, but Ill be goddamned if her words arent truer now than when s/he uttered them. What with the internet both hipping everybody to everything and making it all available at any time, rarity itself is as rare as a day in June (as they say). Which brings me back to Heart Lands self-titled LP on Tequila Sunrise Records, one in a series of on-going collaborative co-releases, this one with Cream of Turner Records. Its a limited edition of 200, all with hand-made library-binder style covers, and very sharp-looking indeed. But not only is every sleeve different and unique, but every record is different, too -- at least, thats how it sounds! What do I know? Every time I play it, it sounds different. Seriously. All I know is that the guys from Heart Land burrowed into the outside-psychedelic-trance-noise-improv badger-hole like a dachshund (albeit one with an un-German sense of humor) and came back with a mash-up of every track on the NWW want-list plus a few imaginary tracks mixed in (only it turns out none were really imaginary after all, if you get my drift). Are these songs 30 seconds long, or are they whole sides? Are they soundtracks for unseen cinema? Who can say? I cannot answer these questions, I can only raise them. Heart Lands inspired throb is a true rarity, sand thrown into the gears of the reality studio machine, and you dont have to be a Swiss collector to afford it. Yet. Listen, wonder, and ride a white dove, luv!" -Carlos Ramirez, San Tanco, Puerto Rico

Artist: LSD MARCH
Title: Empty Rubious Red
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $20.00
"...originally released in 2006 on their own white elephant imprint (a longer version of empty rubious red was reissued later that year as a limited edition cd on the incredible archive label), both versions sold out in about a minute. Its actually more like a solo outing by lsdm front-man shinsuke michishita (on voice, guitar, bass and percussion), accompanied on two tracks by legendary drummer ikuro takahashi (high rise, fushitsusha, tamio shiraishi, kosokuya, che-shizu, maher shalal hash baz, nagisa ni te, etc). most of the songs here are intimate, in-your-inner-ear ballads, hypnagogic and melancholic, achy hangovers from the third velvets LP ⿿ sorrowful birds on the last tree in the universe, thinking themselves into being, then forgetting themselves, then remembering again. except for the title track, that is ⿿ an 8-minute doppler-effect trance that gets you wasted on polonium 210, sets the dials of the kabbalah for the heart of the sun, and clicks "send." we could describe the overall sound here as late night psych. Its a pretty hackneyed term at this point, but try to remember how it used to be a downright poetic handle for the genre, conjuring those sleepless hours between 3 and 5 a.m. when the acid-drenched mind emits showers of sparks into the abyss. Light fuse and get away! we dont know what sorts of childrens clothing well see when trend analysts start recommending late night psych as the compass for designers, but its bound to be interesting. just remember, when you see saucer-eyed tots on the deck of a starship with their heads plugged into andromeda, you heard it here first. *european manufactured 180 gram lp housed in a stoughton old-style sleeve with j-card style obi." - Tequila Sunrise.

Artist: PANELLA, MARCO
Title: Eastern Landscapes
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $15.00
"Marco Panellas layered guitar landscapes mix American primitive acoustica with Nashville telecasters, dissonant jazz and straight rock. On Eastern Landscapes, eight self-assured but tonally unpredictable songs serve as the base for studio overdubs and guitar textures. Written and recorded over two years (2008-2010), the songs on Eastern Landscapes draw from the wells of British and American folk forms, classic rock, and even modal jazz to create a sound thats deeply rooted, satisfying, and somewhat elusive." - Tequila Sunrise.

Artist: ROSE, JACK
Title: Dr Ragtime and His Pals/Jack Rose
Format: Double CD
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $16.00
"This double-disc features a brand new album from Philadelphia guitarist Jack Rose along with his highly acclaimed and out-of-print self-titled record (originally a limited release on the Archive Recordings label). On Dr. Ragtime & Pals, Rose duets with Glenn Jones, Micah Smaldone, Mike Gangloff, Harmonica Dan, and Sean Bowles. This is a major work from a big player in the modern American Primitive world, often compared to the likes of John Fahey."- Tequila Sunrise

Artist: ROSE, JACK
Title: Dr. Ragtime And His Pals
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $21.00
"LP version. Limited edition of 960. Domestically-pressed vinyl, housed in a European manufactured hard board inner-sleeve slipped inside a matte board jacket with j-card style obi. Jack Roses lastest full length, Dr. Ragtime And His Pals was originally issued on CD by Tequila Sunrise in April 2008. "The Appalachian Trail runs 2175 miles south from Mount Katahdin in Maine to Springer Mountain in Georgia, though there are those who want to stretch it further, into Alabama, because the mountains go there. Why not extend it? Trails are made for that. But theres another Appalachian Trail, too -- one that goes through time, extending from unfinished studios in Williamsburg, NY, winding down the grooves of ancient 78s to the 1920s or even earlier, past Stephen Fosters wet dream to a place beyond the compass of change. If youre hiking on *that* trail, youre likely to run into a lot of post-grad Parsifals with inscrutable hair and de-tuned banjos -- these days, you cant swing a cat around without hitting one! But if youre lucky, you might stumble across a clearing somewhere south of Lily Dale, where revolutionists stop for orangeade and Dr. Ragtime hangs out with his pals. If you ask him politely, he might offer you a taste of his elixir -- made from codeine, sarsaparilla, and goat-gland extract -- guaranteed to restore memories that never were. And if youre quiet, he might let you stay and listen to the music: Ethiopian novelties, characteristic marches and parlor favorites -- bittersweet slices of Methodist pie, familiar tunes, at least in those sections where the square dance has not yet been supplanted by the fox-trot. And if you have a couple of dimes to rub together in your pocket, youll want to purchase his newest, electrically-recorded phonograph recording, entitled Doctor Ragtime And His Pals. The Doctor, who hitherto has recorded only on his own, is joined here by Micah Blue Smaldone (who has been compared to both Tiny Tim and Kierkegaard), Glenn Jones (of Cul de Sac, last seen around these parts urging college students to contemplate the prospect of their own death on a balmy September evening), Michael Gangloff (late of Pelt and the Black Twig Pickers), Nathan Bowles (also of the Black Twig Pickers as well as the Spiral Joy Band) and the mysterious Harmonica Dan (from Pennsauken, New Jersey by way of ethereal caminos). This release is conjoined with a recording by Jack Rose, the Mike Morgan of the American minimalist neo-primitive sub-underground. This recording, entitled Jack Rose -- previously available to the buying public only in severely limited forms -- is here presented as a bonus to the consumer and perhaps as an act of folly for the producer." -Charles Fourier, Tequila Sunrise Records

Artist: SMALDONE, MICAH BLUE
Title: Hither And Thither
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $24.00
"deluxe 180 gram vinyl pressed at record technology, inc., with an 8 page booklet, housed in a beautiful full color "old style/tip-on" jacket printed at Stoughton printing. limited edition of 500. Micah Blue Smaldone. A distinctive name, no? Micah? A minor Hebrew prophet. Blue? A hippy-ish middle name. Red white and? Moon of Kentucky? Smaldone.could be Italian, or Old English. I understand his grandfather (on his mothers side) fought with the John Brown Battery in the Spanish Civil War and taught young Micah plenty of the old songs - but dont ask him to play Jarama Valley in Catalan. Its just too sad. His grandfather never got over it, and the whole Comintern business still sticks in his craw. His great grandfather (on his fathers side) was the local IWW guy who saw to it that a little bit of Joe Hill was scattered in the Pine Tree State. Well, I just want to say to the country that this is a real decent, fine boy. Micah Blues got an original voice, reedy and spare, and hes a virtuoso ragtime finger-picker, too. His songs are charming, antique ditties - austere Tin-Pan Alley tunes with lyrics by Soren Kierkegaard. Like a single bright light, his music illuminates much while also casting a lot of sharp shadows, lovely, dark and deep. When he plays live, he tenses up his whole body - tenser than youd expect for a folk musician, like he might snap the strings, or snap the neck of his guitar, or just snap. But theres not a trace of irony in his music or in his performance, and I guess thats the Yankee in him. See, it gets cold at night up there in Maine, where hes from, and when you got the blank eye of god bearing down on you, and you got the Jukes and the Kallikacks next door getting high on Freon or something, it just makes a man think seriously about where he fits in. Willem de Kooning, gazing up at the star-spangled sky over Black Mountain in the forties, remarked "the universe gives me the creeps," and I imagine Micah might agree. Human consciousness may be a makeshift contraption held together with bailing wire and duct tape, but it will have to suffice. And it may well be true that regret and loss are inescapable human conditions (if you marry you will regret it, and if you dont marry youll regret that too). But it is also true that music is a bulwark against such notions of human frailty, and Micah Blues music does more than suffice. It offers balm and succor to a weary soul. "Micah is so good," Jack Rose told me, "hell make you throw your dick in the dirt!" I certainly agree with the spirit, if not the letter, of Mr. Roses sentiments. Ill have to let you personally be the judge on that score, though you ladies will have to determine some sort of equivalent for yourselves, assuming you concur." - John Jacob Niles.

Artist: SONDHEIM, ALAN, HELENA ESPVALL & AZURE CARTER
Title: Cauldron
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $23.00
"The animists of Mari El aren’t the last pagans, not by a long shot. Cauldron is on the job, too, working the hot-stick on Ley lines from Giant’s Despair to Kingdom Come, with a backpack full of old tube equipment and spools of magnetic tape. Cauldron spins secret messages encoded in lace and tosses the achillea millefolium to see where to go next. Cauldron wants to remind you that all you see is not all there is. The margins of “things” are crawling, if you know how to look: ancient spirits, saints, faeries, fractal elves, jeweled self-dribbling basketballs, etc. etc. etc. The trick is to find your way back to an unmediated life. So take Cauldron’s hand. Ignore the fire-exit signs warning you that an alarm will sound. It won’t. Push the door open… stumble into brighter light… the untended back lot behind our shared reality… where weeds push stark flowers through cracks in the cement… once you get out there everything is so quiet, all you hear is the breezes-s-s-s… butterflies and blue lizards flit and skitter amid the rubble of forgotten thoughts… “How wonderful that youre here!” they say. “You come so rarely! Were so delighted to see you!” Cauldron deals out a three of cups: Alan Sondheim, a pioneer of mystical ear-tweak and sci-fi sonic ritual sound, chamber-improv gypsy cellist Helena Espvall, and eco-trance singer Azure Carter… thrice to thine and thrice to mine, and thrice again, to make up nine. Channeling the ghosts of Opal Whiteley and Lou Harrison, Cauldron conjures the scratch and shush of the Big Bang out of wood, wind and cat-gut. Whenever you listen to it, this album is always over too soon, just like life. Fire Museum and Tequila Sunrise Records deal out a two of pentacles: not to get all “Yankee Candle” here, but we only made 250 of these, so grab one before they melt away like chemtrails in the sunset sky." - Fred Astarte, Tequila Sunrise.

Artist: SUNLORE
Title: S/T
Format: LP
Label: Tequila Sunrise
Country: USA
Price: $24.00
"The sun plays tricks on the eyes when the atmospheres just right, with fata morganas like the Crocker Mountains or the Flying Dutchman, or with sun dogs like the ones that dazzled and disoriented Robert Falcon Scott. Sunlore is like that. As soon as you think youve got a bead on what they are, they just shimmer away from you. Sunlore falls through the cracks. The LP kicks off familiarly enough, sounding like Sun Ra playing Bron-Y-Aur Stomp on a crunchy rocksichord, and then it lurches, keyboard-first, into a landscape of trailing moans and the distant clatter of ghost bongos ... parlor pianos playing melodies by Samuel Beckett ... a long parabolic samsara through some sort of hideously beautiful Sheela na Gig portal into a world lit by a black sun ... and then back out again to where you started from ... with all the fried elasticity of the first Amon Düül record, only a REALLY solipsistic version of it ... and ... wait ... on closer inspection, that aint Uschi Obermaier out there shaking maracas in the shadow of the Berlin Wall ... its actually your own pineal gland, vibrating? take that, Stasi bitches! So there you go. You can draw a set of references to similar sonic spacery from Shock Records early days, Skullflower, Dead-fucking-C, New Blockaders, the aural magick of RRR or even Red Rhino records. However far into the name-check bush you want to go on walkabout, youll still find an empty bag of clues at the end of the moebius strip. All I can tell you about Sunlore is that they come from southeastern Pennsylvania, one of the guys works down at the airport like Little Johnny Jewel, and they have some sort of affiliation with the equally uncategorizable Heart Land. And, like Heart Land, Sunlores self-titled LP is available on Tequila Sunrise Records, one in a series of on-going collaborative co-releases with Cream of Turner Productions. Its a limited edition of 200, all with hand-made sleeves. Each sleeve, it should be mentioned, is an individual work of art involving spray paint, ball-bearings(?) and the alchemical element of fire." -Tequila Sunrise. ""...whats so goddamn enjoyable about that is figurin out exactly whats spinnin; not just on the turntable, but in theys collective noggins. First go I could conjure them all sittin around a table, reading them Walter Wegmuller tarot cards while listenin to Toiling Midgets Deadbeats. Since then Is heard sounds what resemble: the X/pressway Allstars muted rock opera on Beak Doctor, the unrecorded Hovlakin instrumental lp, Danny & The Dressmakers reinterpretin Manuel Gottschings E2-E4 & Coloured Balls snorin through Marshall stacks." - Roland Woodbe.

by artist / 0-9    A    B    C    D    E    F    G    H    I    J    K    L    M    N    O    P    Q    R    S    T    U    V    W    X    Y    Z    V/A \   by label