Each edition of the Four To The Floor series, now in its 16th installment, always presents four tracks that are some of the strongest secret weapons from the sets of Solomun. Opening up the record is Maceo Plex’s “Mutant Magic”, which gets the engine going with deeply pounding percussions and otherworldly synth dabs and vocals.
Up next the sinister sounding “Plastic Head TV” by Fairmont, a driving and dystopian melodic techno track. Track number three is “Louisville Lip (Abaze Edit)” by Nico Garreaud, a Tech-House anthem with rapid drum patterns and energizing arpeggiators.
And lastly is dreamy Melodic House tune called “Princept” by The Vinyl Depreciation Society, a very versatile piece that experiments with an insane amount of sounds over its main structure and with that, rounds off this 16th edition of Four To The Floor.
Invisible Hits is a column in which Tyler Wilcox scours the internet for the best (and strangest) bootlegs, rarities, outtakes, and live clips.
Over a decade after Alice Coltrane passed away—or, as her website puts it, “left her physical form”—the musician’s followers continue to grow, via her time with John Coltrane’s late-period band, her pioneering solo work in the ’60s and ’70s, or the deeply spiritual music she recorded as Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda. For listeners who want to dig a bit deeper into her long journey, there are several excellent rarities to discover that give an alternate look at her musical quest for transcendence and transfiguration.
One of the earliest glimpses we have of Alice Coltrane—then Alice McLeod—is this early 1960s clip of her, drummer Don Brown and bassist Al King coasting through the Dizzy Gillespie standard “Woody ‘n’ You.” Her nimble playing during this formative period (she was just 22 at the time) shows the influence of her mentor, the legendary pianist Bud Powell, whom she met when she moved to Paris in 1959. Musically, there’s no real hint of the wild styles she’d get into later in the decade; this is straight-up, no-frills bebop that feels like a bit of a throwback even in 1960. But the joyous expressions that light up Alice’s face suggest a musician who’s ready, willing, and able to get lost in the sound. https://pitchfork.com/thepitch/invisible-hits-alice-coltranes-journey/