Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Return of the Mac

Much as - you may have spotted - we love the brutalist school, we're prepared to grant you that the Royal Albert Hall off Kensington Gore is on any measure a stunning edifice, inside and out. Opened in 1871 as a tribute to the consort Queen Vic still pined for, it's also been a perfect setting since the Forties for the Proms, still the most skilfully-curated and rewarding concert series in the country. This year, we gotta furnish particular props to Pyotr Ilyich, as usual ('specially the LSO strutting the divine Sleeping Beauty), Barenboim's West-Eastern Divan Orchestra playing Haydn, Schoenberg and the wonderful Brahms (who we're newly rediscovering), and, of course, the inspired pairing of the late K-H Stockhausen's "Punkte" with more conventionally elegant works from Schubert and Ludwig vB: judging by the horrified reaction of some punters close to us, there needs to be a lot more of that kind of programming in British classical music. As ever, the only thing that let the Proms down was the Last night, when most of Britain's lunatics hold a bizarre rally to the strains of Edward Elgar, and everyone watching highlights on the news at home somewhat forgivably believes the lie that classical music is only for snobs and / or mentalists.

But it's not all over in terms of musical bounty within the walls of this magnificent redbrick amphitheatre. Because a clutch of days later, on one of the first truly crisp autumn nights of the year Echo and the Bunnymen, no less, take to the stage to help dispel those post-Proms blues. Will Sergeant, adopting the head-down, nr-motionless pose he will retain all evening, strikes up those opening notes of "Rescue". And beside him, an equally static Mac the Mouth prepares to unleash what a few thousand not-so-youngs in the audience are waiting for - THE VOICE.

This is largely a greatest hits set, as is confirmed when "Villiers Terrace" swiftly follows on "Rescue"'s heels, although the interpolation of one newie, "Stormy Weather" (a vaguely Mary Chain-esque anthemic / romantic thing) doesn't do the damage you might fear. Otherwise, the hits rain down ("The Back Of Love", "All That Jazz", "Never Stop"...), dry ice at times virtually envelops the stage, and Echo prove that they always had THE SONGS. Of the older guard, "Bring On The Dancing Horses", works marvellously in these surroundings, the microphone pregnant with echo delay; and "Nothing Lasts Forever" retains the majesty of the single version, McCulloch's voice perfectly suited to enunciating the weariness of growing old, the need to acknowledge how times change and things get left behind (Queen Victoria, still heartbroken when she dedicated this place ten years on from Albert's death, would have known how he felt). Yes, "All My Colours" seems to have got a little lost in time, and as for "Lips Like Sugar", well we've simply never really liked it: but for the most part, this is a set of borderline-immodest showing off, and fantastic with it. The band's puissance is most trenchantly demonstrated by the fact that they finish with "The Cutter" - what a song, what a song (shakes head in awe and wonderment, cradles the original 7", half-dissolves into teary lament for days when this kind of thing would unite the cool kids and the playground kids and sell tens of thousands of copies, on real vinyl and everything). A sublime way to finish.

Except, of course, that it's only half-time. For after a respectful interval, the band re-emerge, kitted out all dapper-like in suits and ties (apart from the Mouth, who goes for a more traditional trenchcoat look to accompany the permafixed sunglasses). But this time, they're accompanied by a sixteen-piece orchestra. And, after Mac notes that Liverpool FC have just stung Marseilles 2-1, they only go and play the "Ocean Rain" album in its entirety, the strings and the acoustics of this place giving it a depth, dimension and identity that we never quite got from our original - gulp - cassette, or even subsequent remasterings (you will be unsurprised to learn that it is about to get yet another digital re-release).

It's hard to recall an album-length's worth of songs having ever whoooshed past quite so quickly, but then if you've an album that kicks off with the >epic pop thrill< of "Silver" and then hurtles through crowdpleasers like "Thorn of Crowns" and "Seven Seas" before the title track delivers a final, lingering kiss, then there's reason to expect it can only seem an all-too brief treat. "The Killing Moon" gets prefaced by a typically blunt "This is the greatest song of all time" from Mac (no longer borderline immodest, then), but in the few minutes that followed, anyone of us under the Hall's cavernous roof would have been hard-pressed to disagree. All the while, screens flick up pictures of the band at their very youngest, emphasising the "homecoming" nature of this gig (it may not be Liverpool, but it is the place they first previewed many of the tunes on "Ocean Rain" a quarter-century back).

There's little hanging around to enjoy the moment once that final song triumphantly finishes: the band stride purposefully off, leaving conductor Rupert Christie and his musicians to self-consciously shuffle themselves and their instruments from the stage. And to cop some deserved applause.

As cool, understated and full of incoherent mumbles as McCulloch so doggedly was for much of the evening, you could tell that he was putting his all into this performance. Veterans they may be, but this was a venue, and an occasion, made for albums, and bands, like this one.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Straight Outta Compton, Straight Into Camden

Oh yes - almost forgot. The best night of the summer was, a little surprisingly, a stifling July evening in ever-unprepossessing Camden Town. Here at the Electric Ballroom, to be precise.

We began it standing at the back as usual, arms folded and heads nodding, while the DJ span old gold of the Onyx or Gang Starr ilk for an hour or two. A pretty relaxed crowd, some truly great music. Around ten o'clock, though, it was time for the main event: in person, in a London club, it was none other than Ice Cube.

He'd promised "just me, two turntables and microphone, old-style", but the precise line-up was this. One Ice Cube, of course, on the mic. A man who memorably described himself as "an actor / a rapper / a macker / got a little problem with the redneck cracker" but could now probably add to the CV, "a film director, although with substantially diminishing comedic returns ever since 'Friday'". The unfortunately-named WC - pronounced Dub-C - on second mic, meaning that two-thirds of Westside Connection were in the um, motherfucking house (only Mack-10 absent). And his DJ, Crazy Tunes (as in "when you see Crazy Tunes / throw up the W"), on those decks.

Tonight, Cube claims he hasn't played London for 13 years, although even his publicist reckons it's really more like two. But it's really strange - given that he's an established multimedia millionaire - how much he really wants to be loved by this relatively small audience, even down to exhorting purchase of his new album, as if a few hundred copies would be a dent in its sales, while WC reminds us that we can buy T-shirts at the back, as if the trio are merely an indie band trying to recoup their petrol costs. But it's as sweet as it's strange.

Cube is perhaps understandably bitter that his own role in rap taking off gets forgotten as the years roll by: at one point, WC pre-rehearsedly asks us "Who started this gangsta rap shit ?" "Ice-T!" shouts D'Alma. "Schoolly D!" says I. "Ice Cube", yells everyone else, and the man is suitably pacified. Instead, faceless multinationals bear the brunt of his ire: Viacom are singled out for their role in having prostituted true hip-hop. We're too shy to point out that there were many willing collaborators, although Ice Cube was most certainly not one of them.

There are some tunes from the album he's allegedly promoting, "Raw Footage", but frankly not that many. Which gives time for everything from "Check Yo' Self" (over "The Message"), to "We Be Clubbin'" to "You Can Do It" to "Bop Nation" to Westside Connection's "Bow Down" and longtime ilwttisott favourite "The Nigga You Love To Hate", the song that best illustrates how the Bomb Squad reignited both Ice Cube's talent and career: after leading us in several choruses of its cheery "Fuck you, Ice Cube!" refrain, Cube finishes with a sentimental, coy "Aw, fuck you too, man". There's also "Gangsta Nation", from Westside Connection's "Terrorist Threats", before which Cube and WC formally inducted all of us into tha Connection. Which was nice. And, of course, "It Was A Good Day", unsubtly adapted ("nobody I know got killed in the UK"). Indeed, Cube has a few words on a current crisis (this was in the midst of that midsummer media alarm, especially where the victims were white, over stabbings): "It ain't the music. It's the conditions".

Halfway thru, Cube wanders offstage to take a breather, while WC gives us a turn of his own. It's a little like Bruce Foxton being given three minutes to do a bass solo at a Jam gig, but still brilliant. From behind the stage, we then hear Cube mock-pleading. "I'm only coming back out if you let me do some of that old-skool hardcore gangsta shit", he says, with a faux-grumpiness that his Boyz In Da Hood character, Doughboy, would have been proud of. When we all, somewhat predictably, go gaga raging mental, he storms back on and delivers his verses from "Straight Outta Compton" and "Gangsta Gangsta" (best version since Snoop and C-Murder's). It's not far off Yo Rosehip doing "Designer Greed": it flays us, and when we do eventually tip, topple, stumble out into the Camden grey, we almost swear we can make out those lights of the Goodyear blimp, shining down official confirmation that Cube is, indeed, a pimp.

Gosh. Even now, we're stunned that such a big star played such a storming, intimate set at a club venue. And that we got in. But, even now, we are extremely grateful. And like Flav, not so long ago, Ice Cube really looks made up. "I'm gonna come back every year", he promises boldly. Let's hope so.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Get Us On The Court And We're Trouble

aka club ilwtt - autumn 2008. date: yes. time: yes. venue: yes. the tracks were these.

the elementz featuring scorzayzee "voyage" (from"crushmode" cd lp on occupy your mind)

yep, you read it right: featuring scorzayzee. yay. one of notts' many finest is *BACK* and is still the master storyteller, with the ability to deliver reality like no other (e.g. "great britain" w/ the p brothers) and heartfelt, kitchen sink empathy like no other (just like on "want what's yours" with styly cee, all the way back in day). oh, and he's still got a killer flow. actually, the elementz record is pretty tight, especially with skinnyman's "high grade" and with wretch and mates killing it on "at 1 with the elementz", but we're afraid any track with scorz on it is gonna upstage all-comers, and this he duly does. on another level.

scorzayzee "why i'm here" (myspace track)

did we mention, scorz is back ? this one explains why, an effortless freestyle about self-discovery, self-restraint, poverty, inspiration and coming good. ah, honestly, having him back is completely brilliant. we know it was rakim who said "i came back to bless the mic", but this feels like our own returning hero doing just the same.

tempa "freestyle" featuring jaybe (myspace track)

a real positive to see that tempa is still around, too, as it's some time since "ya get me" ruled the decks, and she's still interested in delivering um, truth to the youth, packing the sort of punch we took from no.lay on the latter's recent mixtape. plus, young jaybe marks himself out here as one to watch: here's keepin' it crossed for more, much more from the both of them.

dap-c and dirty sweet featuring blak twang and geejay "music game" (from "street karma" cd on ngu records)

dap-c's most recent cd is somewhat variable: there's not enough of him on it for a start, far too many other rappers taking up mic time, plus, even when he is on it, he's devoting inordinate energy to the regulation champagne & shagging lyrical stuff and not nearly enough to just expressing his emotions, which is actually when he comes across best to us, even if we know that's not what keeps younger heads nodding these days (or, indeed, keeps cash tills ringing). but anyway. this tune, despite being more breezily instant and glimmer globe-friendly than any lowest common denom club banger could be, is simply tremendous, a summer hit that grows and grows and keeps on giving.

twang (that's b.t. himself aka tony rotton aka sarf london's greatest hip-hop survivor, not the ace late-80s ron johnson band or the very very terrible '00s "indie" band from brum) hits it with a large first verse, well up to his usual standard: dap-c then follows it with possibly the best bars he's done, right from when he nails it up top with his "i remember sleepless nights / no electricity..." intro through to a defiant "i'm battling still": and sunderland's under-rated geejay delivers too, with a spot at least as strong as some of the tracks from his own "i came to represent" mixtape. but p'raps the real star of the exercise is dirty sweet, who put the beat together to make it all possible. ubermaximum respect.

onyx "mad world" (from "cold case files (murda investigation)" cd on iceman)

yes, onyx are BACK too, even if the material here is not new, and this return of the madface is miles from the going thru the motions of "triggernometry" as sticky, fredro and co strip things right back to, at best, huge bass and raw, grizzly vocals (think mobb circa "drop a gem on 'em"). this is no-frills hip-hop, and even as a 'rest of', it lords it over some of their solo efforts.

dj pleasure "vengar" (12" a-side on lowdowndeep)
malfoy "pureblood" (12" a-side on skimrok project)
clipz "offline" (b-side of "ugly" 12" on audio zoo)
jaydan "hustlerz and dealerz" (12" a-side on propaganda records)
dj pleasure "technique" (b-side of "wish master" 12" on lowdowndeep)

ooh, that was a half hour we greatly enjoyed. there seems to be a school of thought that jump-up is somehow "too easy" to get into, as if the fact that something makes you want to dance around madly or smile like a (wo)man possessed disqualifies it from critical acclaim. obviously, only dunderheads subscribe to this school, by which any peppy pop music, groovalicious grindcore or life-affirming UKHH (see previous tune) would be ruled out of "the canon". all these guys make great music, and like everyone else we scrawl about, music that is not that hard to adore.

the pains of being pure at heart "everything with you" (possibly forthcoming single on slumberland)

"goal...!" a new tune from the pains of. no, it does not represent a change of direction: yes, that is a good outcome. liable to be up there with the mls' "clusterfuck" as one of the brightest swinging fuzzpop 7"s of the yr.

the pains of being pure at heart "come saturday" (download single on fortuna pop!)

"and another", as alan partridge would say. thanks to sean price, the ever-diligent suge knight of indie-pop, there's gonna be a pains of being pure at heart album, and it's gonna be major. how do we know ? because this buzzing, sherbety ripsnorter takes "come saturday" from their earlier slumberland split single and gives it the full fuel injection, not least by bringing the bass up to the fore. sheer sheer joy.

postal blue "you should keep it to yourself" (from their 3" cd-r on cloudberry)

the boys from brazil are er, BACK and the news on this tune is that they've gone kinda blueboy circa "imipramine". fair play to them, really: in our view it's a change in direction which suits them to a tee.

phil wilson "neon lights" (from "industrial strength" 2x7" ep on slumberland)

the late tony wilson presided over "factory". the great ant wilson curated "powertools". the fine glenn wilson delivered "industrial control". and now the sublime phil wilson (who is BACK, btw) brings us "industrial strength". thematic is good. as is this e.p. of acoustic kraut-industrial covers (yes you read that right) with low-in-the-mix vocals: "neon lights" is especially sweetly rediscovered, using the power of ukelele. the overdue return of phil wilson to our record collection is courtesy of those arbiters of maximum taste at slumberland - what with sarandon, the sunny street and the pains of too, it does rather appear that slumberland are trotting out much sweet stuff this yr, does it not ?

lauren mason "haterade" (single on perpetuity records)

ah, y'know, this is *grate*. it's marketed vaguely as grime, and her voice obviously has that r&b feel that worked so well on "p.s." and "just wanna be me", but really this is great POP, at least as serviceable as, and with much more charm than, the seemingly uncriticisable girls aloud or sugababes. when she sings "i'm only 22... this is my prime time / i didn't know that to look sharp and feel good was a big crime" it's a stern rebuke - she properly smacks it to the grumpy oldsters like us she's getting at. we'd better check out the album.

estelle "american boy" (single on atlantic)

gulp. is it really 6 years since we were dropping the odd mention of estelle swaray into our ziney musings ? that would have been abt the time she did guest vox (styling herself "est'elle") on b. twang's "trixstar", showed off her singing on the "diamond in the rough" mixtape and even dropped in on a couple of tunes on 57th dynasty's "a dynasty truly like no other": all followed eventually by "1980" (yes it was a fleeting, but still memorable pop moment). and the errant apostrophe was now long gone. then there was, let us think, a terrible album, a biiiiiig gap and now a resurfacing with, well, largely another terrible album, but whatever, cos' "american boy" itself is pretty smart. apart from: the sickly-slick production; and the fact she seems to owe her success not to her ability and endeavour, what we've never doubted, but to getting in with the "right" (i.e. wrong) musical company. grrr.

luckily, c-murder is apparently out on parole now, and what with onyx seemingly being back in full effect too, hopefully real gangster rap can make a comeback and help nail the current lazy tolerance of mediocrity that allows kanye to telephone in the kind of verse he does here, ne-yo to express his admiration for coldplay or to record anything, and the honestly once-amazing snoop to record such abysmal records as "sensual seduction". oh, and ll cool j's warmly-touted nu single is also *not* a return to form: it is totally wack and "i need love" seems like "hand in glove" by comparison. sorry ll, but maybe ice-t had it damn right on "i'm your pusher", after all.

annotations of an autopsy "fisted to the point of regurgitation" (from "before the throne of infection" cd lp on siege of amida)
obituary "forces realign" (from "left to die" cd-ep on candlelight)
slipknot "all hope is gone" (single on the all-blacks)

at their best, annotations encapsulate the pure sludge of earlyish carcass and are therefore always worth a run-out, even if the lyrics are still basically keepin' it 6th form. obituary on the other hand are simply gods, and not just because they hail from the same state as cloudberry records. whereas... well, we never thought we would even be able to listen to a slipknot record all the way through, considering how limpid and unthreateningly tame slipknot usually are, but this (also the title track of their album) is actually ok, and 1,000,000x better than "psychosocial" which we think is their other single of recent months. tru, it probably wouldn't be in here if its inclusion didn't at least marginally rile you, our dear reader (readers ?) but there you go. we'd love it, just love it, if they ever covered "vatican broadside".

bubblegum lemonade "just like you" (from "susan's in the sky" ep on matinee recordings)

the lemonade have the severe misfortune to have released this at the same time as northern portrait's "napoleon sweetheart", which no doubt had the effect that all the paparazzi who would otherwise loiter with intent around bubblegum towers on a weeknight zoomed off to copenhagen or something. away from the paps, bubblegum lemonade have crafted another lissom title track, but we went for "just like you" because, like "unsafe at any speed" off their first ep, it shows how they can be at their best when they corral together those jamc influences.

jme "punch in the face" (from "famous ?" cd lp on boy better know)

"famous ?" is jamie adenuga's first album proper after that series of mixtapes quite a while back, which is probably why tunes like "serious" (a song we must have first heard on 1xtra in about 1812), lp opener "AWOH", "standard" and a "shh hut yuh muh" refix (a maniac assemblage to rival "full effect" or "no boad test this corner" for general addictiveness) can still get a run-out in 2008. there's no doubt it's a bold, accomplished work though: most attention will probably be devoted to "sun, sea and sand", which deserves to be a hooj crossover record, and the plastician-inspired "ghetto superstar", but plenty of our favourites are where jme's own voice comes through, like "standard", the wiley-produced "1 2 3" or this track ("i've had enough of these fake gangsters... i just think they're idiots"). "punch in the face" is a good example of how "famous?" is acksherley a thoughtful, at times surprisingly unsettling record, many of the songs finishing with longer instrumental passages than most grime-mc cuts, and so drilling clipped, clinical, sparse beats like these a little deeper into yr mind.

kurupt "break it down like" (single on highpowered entertainment)

on one level, this is brainless sub-50 "up in da club" tosh, but on another, it's a visceral snakehip-tempter par excellence. what tips the balance on this occasion is that ex-death row geezer and general old-stager kurupt is allegedly a fave of garry thompson, a fine player in his day and also in our view one of rovers' more mistreated ex-managers. also, "break it down, like" is a ringer for the brizzle vernacular.

morgan heritage and busy signal "run dem weh" (single on juke boxx recordings)
buju banton "you ago happen" (from "the golden tree" ep on gargamel music)
capleton "nuh bwoy" (single on clay records)

busy's "tic-toc" didn't really chime for us (ha), but when he teams up with the more consistent heritage ppl the result is this excellent download. ever questioning ("how can you expect the population / to sit back kick back and just relax ?"), it neatly marries roots reggae riddims with up-to-the-now dub inflections. of the various spins of buju's golden tree riddim on his new ep, "you ago happen" just about wins out for us over the collaborations with delly ranks and new kids: it's not as expansive as, but feels much more winningly contemporary than, "cowboys". as for capleton (sadly no relation to the ex-southend 'keeper), he just plays it tuff, but somehow we can't tear ourselves away. so "nuh bwoy", along with "break it down like", is a guilty, even grubby, pleasure.

sven wittekind "i stay hard" (12" a-side on sven wittekind records)
the bug featuring flowdan "warning" (from "london zoo" lp on ninja tune)

sven stays hard-techno, we're sure that means: and the tune is a little more driven than his recent "never forget" 12". flowdan is just hard, in any sense of the term, and resumes his prolific partnership with the equally uncompromising the bug. "warning" is therefore the aural equivalent of mick harford partnering fash the bash up front.

repugnant inebriation "dead soul" (from "empire of hate" cd-ep on eternal fog records)

metal bands have been running out of adjective / noun name combinations for some time now: all the really good ones, to do with death or napalm or horrible diseases, have gone, so one has to fall back on anything that sounds vaguely unpleasant. so in the case of london's own five-piece repugnant inebriation, at least they've got something that well reflects an average evening in their home city, even if they can't lay claim to the most serious medical / wartime ailments. anyway, this e.p. is death metal of the proper excoriating variety and it leads off with this song, that also appeared on a recent terrorizer cover mount. the repugnants carefully negotiate the fine line between smile-making moshery and self-regarding guitar noodling to deliver one of our favourite metallic singles of the yr so far. in their own words, they want to create music that's "a pleasure to listen to": as with all our cast tonight, they've certainly succeeded, making this the perfect place to STOP.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Sweetheart, I Could Die In Your Arms

Hearing the new Northern Portrait EP, "Napoleon Sweetheart", one's tempted to ask where the bloody hell they were in the late 80s, when we were all crying out for the new Smiths and being fobbed off instead with a plethora of anaemic, uber-ropey carbons. The answer, no doubt, is that the three of them were gurgling contentedly away in their carry-cots, but that's barely sufficient excuse: we were in dire need of a tonic back then and this is the sort of thing that could have delivered. (And yes, secretly, we knew that *actually* discovering a new Smiths was an unattainable object, but it was really a code for just wanting a band with the same trembling combination of insouciance, sprightliness and technique, a band that could play a neat one-two with the legacy of Salford's finest and at least run with it a bit. That's how high we set our sights in those days. And no, Suede never fitted the bill).

Whereas Northern Portrait's first record, "The Fallen Aristocracy", carried echoes not only of the Smiths but also the jangling Walkeresque potency of One Thousand Violins in full flow, this second CD-EP carries undertones of... well yes, the fab four again, but also perhaps some slightly later bands in time. "Napoleon Sweetheart" has the pace, yearning and Morrissey-ish werewolf falsettos of their debut, but also a lilting gravitas akin to classy post-shambling moments like Bradford's "Skin Storm", the Cradle's "It's Too High", the Railway Children's "Brighter", that kind of thing.

It starts, like the last EP's "Crazy", with a pretty solid demonstration that pop songs can be infectious without being inane: it's called "I Give You Two Seconds To Entertain Me" and you'll be having it buzz round your cranium 'til the cows come home. Singer & songwriter Stefan Larsen is still pitching deep - "I'm so tired / of the way she's selling out... I want something that's real / and perfectly genuine" - as the song bounds along impatiently, the chiming guitars dancing sympathetically around him. It's a peerless number that screams "A-side", absolutely hollers it.

But the best extended-plays need to maintain premium quality over four tracks, and that's perhaps the most enthralling thing about both Northern Portrait records to date. Here, "Sporting A Scar" sneaks up a little more subtly, a tangle of wiry guitars mourning "the best thing that never happened to me", before "In An Empty Hotel" simply breezes in, palpably borrowing from the heavenly strums of Mr Marr, with melodies to match. Wonderful. The finish line, in contrast to the all-out jangle bombardment of the title track last time round, is the drizzly semi-balladry of "Our Lambrusco Days", a contemplative indie-pop hymn with dark lyrical turns - "life can be such a death-affirming experience" - of which Moz would be proud.

And there are passages on this record, not least the too-short instrumental sections that bring the curtain down on the last couple of songs, where Northern Portrait start doing that Harper Lee trick of making us suddenly feel all soppy with love and unblinking adoration, and rather regretful that we don't feel that way more often. As we get all wrapped up in glistening, intertwining guitars we picture a dark sky suddenly picked through by the gleam of thousands of tiny stars, and wish the world hadn't changed so much that we can't revisit our own Lambrusco days when records like this came on vinyl, when we could gently drop the needle and watch it spin serenely through the grooves.

It's no bad thing, after their super soaraway debut, that NP didn't hang around before releasing this exceptional second single: the longer they left it, the more we'd have had cause to wonder whether "The Fallen Aristocracy"'s polished, sophisticated charm was a one-off. Instead, they're making hay while the sun shines. It's remarkable, for a band that seems to have emerged in an instant, how they've already acquired the poise and grace of a Laudrup or a Simonsen, so our only concern for them now is that they don't 'mature' (dread word) too fully, too fast: after all, we remember how the Railway Children bowled us over with the jab of "A Gentle Sound" and the cross of "Brighter", ultimately to fade into major label malaise while our backs were turned. But right now, Northern Portrait are nigh-irresistible.

So yeah, this is pop deluxe. It's on Matinee Recordings. You might want to buy it.