Back catalogue: All genres

Review: Originally scored in 1968 by a loose circle of New York garage-psych acts, this reissued soundtrack finally lifts the veil on one of the strangest period films of the late 60s. The E-Types lead the charge with no fewer than four versions of 'Put The Clock Back On The Wall', ranging from a bright, full-band cut to a warped instrumental and stereo acapella. The Bit' A Sweet contribute the hazy, lurching 'Is It On, Is It Off?'ia woozy gem full of phased guitar and tape wobbleiwhile 'LSD Got A Hold On Me' by Thee Neons dials up the paranoia with raw, fuzzed-out intensity. The Vagrants offer a tight, harmony-laced soul ballad in 'I Love, Love You (Yes I Do)', adding contrast to the acid-drenched proceedings. While the film itself, shot entirely in greyscale, veered closer to surreal documentary than narrative cinema, the music functions as a mood-setting anchor throughoutiequal parts camp, dread, and weird sunshine optimism. This marks the first official pressing of these tracks and serves as both a time capsule of New York's outsider rock fringe and a highly playable psyche compilation in its own right.

Review: High Time is the second album by Japanese rock band The Michelle Gun Elephant, first released in November 1996 through Columbia Japan. Outperforming their previous works, this one was a major breakthrough in their career, coming just eight months after their debut. It coincided with the band's rapid ascent (and our corresponding assent), thanks to the many seething punk hazings-over heard therein, such as 'Brand New Stone', 'Lily' and 'Bowling Machine'. The third especially works in many a sparing and striking sound effect, as heard and caused by many a pro bowler over the years. Interestingly, the CD and vinyl editions have different titles and have different tracklists.

Review: The American musician and guitarist newest album is a collection of compositions that balance melancholia with quiet defiance. From the disorienting, tape-warped opening moments to the album's delicate final waltz, Tyler crafts an introspective instrumental landscape where the past and present converge. 'Cabin Six' starts with a hazy, found-sound texture, its distant hum of static giving way to Tyler's contemplative guitar. It's a track that feels suspended in time, evoking the isolation of its recording process. 'Concern', in contrast, unfurls a luminous melody atop warm strings, the steel guitar lifting the piece into a realm of understated grandeur. It's among Tyler's most affecting compositions, a quiet affirmation amid uncertainty. On 'Star of Hope', the album's spiritual centerpiece, an AM radio-sourced hymn weaves into Tyler's delicate loops, creating a ghostly, celestial resonance. The interplay between organic and electronic texturesitape hiss, processed echoesigrounds the track in a space both intimate and otherworldly. 'Electric Lake' shimmers with ecstatic drone, its weightless progression nodding to La Monte Young, while 'Howling' sways between ambient pastoralism and an undercurrent of discord, its background noise a restless specter. The album closes with 'Held', a sigh of relief wrapped in a gentle acoustic waltz. The ever-present tape warble lingers, a reminder of unease, but Tyler leans into beauty. Time Indefinite is a triumph of instrumental storytellingione of quiet reckoning, but also persistence, offering solace in its hypnotic, evocative swells.

Review: William Tyler stands as one of the most influential solo American guitarists of this century. Having played with Silver Jews and Lambchop, he's carved out a singular space for himself, with albums weaving country roots and classical influences with postmodern experimentation; he melds field recordings and static drifts for a sense of imminent boundlessness, recoverable just over the hill. Drawing on inspirations from Chet Atkins to Gavin Bryars, from electroacoustic abstraction to hypnotic boogie, Time Indefinite - his first solo album in five years - hears Tyler reimmerse himself in said sound, reflecting on the hiss, distortion, and rawness of a turbulent era. With eerie loops and luminous melodies, Time Indefinite is an essential soundtrack for fostering resilience.