Forgive me, I’m about to get overly philosophical:
It’s never clear to me how coherent the curation of this newsletter is. Generally speaking, it’s an attempt to present a palette while simultaneously cracking open that palette. Like, I want to lead people to new sounds while simultaneously disrupting concepts of new / not-new, familiar / unfamiliar. I want to discourage the idea that new sounds, and the practice of seeking them, need be unusual. This is a central tenet of music-thinking I absorbed while working at EVERYSEEKER: the majority of the programming I did there was propelled by a tension of dual-layer confrontation (ie. music that confronts the listener, encouraging the listener to confront their own expectations of music).
I like to think of The Reg more as openings upon openings; sounds that are in some way welcoming, and as connective as they are unfettered. All of which to say: this month’s issue feels either unusually scattered or typically daring and brilliantly coherent, depending on your purview ✌️
click the covers to listen or go your own way ~~
Ulla - Foam (2022)
Years ago, I took part in an artist residency that had a mini philosophy class tucked inside. In that class, we read excerpts of A Thousand Plateaus, a book very much de rigeur at the time. More than anything, I remember the instructor encouraging us to read the text ‘as though it were a sci-fi novel’. The suggestion was seductive in that it felt both instructive and impossible. I invite a similar approach to Foam, a profoundly intimate and beautiful album full of glitched ambience and textural beauty. Listen to it like a pop record: it’s got hooks for days.
Fackowsky & Radsch - Eiszeit (2016)
Perhaps you woke up this morning planning to listen to German hip-hop. Then again, perhaps you did not. For the past few weeks, I’ve been returning to Eiszeit over and over, with equal parts appreciation and fascination. What kind of strange alchemy is at play here? For one, the beats and production (handled by Radsch) are totally excellent. So excellent in fact, that when Fackowsky starts absent-mindedly white-boy scatting partway through the second track, I’m… here for it? Errant flute and staccato cowbell keep me rapt. As for the lyrical content, the German 101 class I took in 2006 doesn’t prove all that helpful, though Fackowsky’s delivery alone sets a sly and understated tone. Google translates the title of the first song as ‘Stone Sorter’ and that, coupled with the frequency with which the emcee says his own name, makes me feel like we’re in pretty playful territory.
Ziad Rabahni - Abu Ali (1978)
An untouchable gem of Lebanese disco, perfectly balancing the key ingredients of the genre: drama and groove. For those unfamiliar, Rabahni is the eldest son of Fairuz, arguably the most important Lebanese artist of the last 70 years. He played a significant role in shaping his mother’s music as a writer/producer and was, in his own right, an invaluable composer, playwright, performer and outspoken political commentator.
Fleetwood Mac - Mirage (1982)
I’ve always felt pretty lukewarm about Fleetwood Mac, so when Chirstine McVie passed away late last year, the outpouring from friends on social media encouraged a revisiting. I still feel more or less the same about Rumours, Tusk, etc.... Sure, they’ve got a few bangers, but I guess overall I can’t disassociate those albums from their cultural cargo. There’s just a whole ~thing~ about them, y’know? Mirage, on the other hand, is a revelation. It’s really fun and I feel like it’s all mine, Mine, MINE!
Howlin’ Wolf - The Howlin’ Wolf Album (1969)
Continuing the theme of finding a lil’ backdoor into an otherwise uncomfortably loaded cultural canon: here’s me enjoying this album, working through some of my complicated associations with the blues. I came across this album while digging into Charles Stepney, an incredible producer/arranger currently being re-appreciated thanks to Step On Step, an archival release of home recordings released on International Anthem last year. Here, Stepney helms sessions wherein Howlin’ Wolf is paired with a consortium of shit-hot psychedelic and avant garde players of the moment, in an attempt by Chess Records to reinvigorate the legendary bluesman’s career. Howlin’ Wolf famously hated the sessions and referred to the material as ‘dog shit’ upon its release. What’s more, he refuted the idea that the music was even the blues at all. He also took exception to the blurb on the cover, reminding the press that he had enthusiastically adopted the electric guitar in the 1950s. So yeh, complicated associations… the music business is full of them.
I’m super interested in feedback / dialogue / suggestions. If you have ideas about the newsletter, want to share music with me, have specific questions / requests, don’t hesitate to get in touch. And please: share this newsletter with a pal if you feel so inspired!
Yrs.,
Andrew P.
andrewdanielpatterson [at] gmail [dot] com