Take It Forever plays like the manifesto of someone who doesn’t know all the answers but finds meaning in asking the questions, the words not of a revolutionary or prophet but an ordinary man striving to make life extraordinary, just as it should be.

Since Sendrowitz has continued to make great music, we endeavoured to come up with some new questions and pick his brains all over again. I think you’ll agree he did a marvellous job of answering them.

Hello Brian, thanks for speaking with us again! How does it feel to have released Take It Forever? Is it a milestone you are proud of?

It’s my pleasure! I really appreciate the work you guys do with Wake the Deaf. As someone who puts a lot into songwriting and lyrics in particular, I’m grateful that there are people who take to time to listen, dig into themes, and approach our music with a depth of thought and understanding. This record definitely feels like some sort of milestone, and maybe more than usual. I think you mentioned in your review that it felt like a culmination of ideas, and for me it was in the sense that I wanted to address very specific themes, articulate ideas as directly as possible, and then move on from them. My resolution for 2016 is “no more songs about the internet.” I had started writing about the subject way back with our song “Teenage Anthem for the Drunken Boat”, and have revisited it frequently. There’s been such a massive shift in our culture and the way we communicate. It feels generation-defining and to not address it in my art would have felt inauthentic to me. With Take It Forever I wanted to make an entire record dealing with the sort of questions I’m always asking myself: where does art fit into our culture now? What place does music have in my life, as both an artist and a fan? In a way it’s sort of a break-up album, in the sense that it chronicles my coming to terms with letting go of my own careerist ambitions, and also with the concept of music careerism in general. But it also tells the story of me finding my way back to a purely creative motivation, which is how this whole thing started anyway.

You have been making music as Beat Radio for over ten years now. How has your music changed since the early days? And are your reasons for making it still the same?

Looking back on the 5 records we’ve made with Beat Radio, I feel like each one was its own unique adventure with different motivations, goals, and perspective. It usually involves some sort of self-imposed set of rules. For this one I knew I wanted to create a more traditional “band” sounding record, guitar-driven and using primarily organic sounds. I think the earlier albums were more escapist in nature, lyrically. Songs were always a sort of fantasy world I could create and control, and exist in. The last record dealt with more personal subject matter but still mainly in an impressionistic way. Take It Forever is our most direct and autobiographical album. It’s also the first time since our first album that I had a band to rehearse and develop the songs prior to recording them, which changes the feel quite a bit and was a lot of fun. To answer the last part of your question, I think my reason for making records on a fundamental level has always been the same. I have ideas I want to express, and the process of writing songs and ushering them into existence is joyful for me. It gets me out of bed in the morning.

Point three of your Advice For Artists list suggests making your ‘peace with the capitalist yardsticks that you thought would signify creative success’. The idea is echoed in the opening song too, taking stories from television, being haunted by the resulting ambition etc., basically being a prisoner to dreams of greatness. So, assuming you have vaulted the problem (or are at least in the process of jumping), do you attempt to measure your success in any other way? Are there any goals (no matter how small/ludicrous) which drive you on?

Ha, I think to say I’m “in the process of jumping” is probably most accurate, if I’m totally honest. I read somewhere recently that when you’re giving advice, you’re really talking to your former self. I’m including that advice for artists list in the artwork for the new record because I sort of consider it a part of the same body of work. Looking back, I think I kind of believed it was too late to achieve a traditional version of music industry “success” before this band even started. The second song I wrote for Beat Radio was “Mexico” which contained the lyric “the dream I had was beautiful, but I let it get away from me.” For a long time though, I secretly believed that there was some mystical equation or weird alchemy that could bring me to that dream of success – touring, quitting my day job, acclaim and recognition, etc. Like, if I could reach a certain level of honesty in myself, and openness, I could magically overcome all the obstacles in my path. Who knows, maybe that’s still true. It’s strange to admit that now though, because it’s in contrast to so many things I believe on a rational level. We all know that you can’t equate commercial success with artistic success, but on some level we all seem to do it anyway. Like, the Bruno Mars song “Uptown Funk” just won the Grammy for record of the year. Do we know anyone who really believes that is the best record of 2015? I know a lot of musicians and we’re all generally conflicted about this stuff in one way or another. And I know so many brilliant musicians who exist almost entirely outside of the dimension of not only the Grammys but also Pitchfork, Stereogum, Noisey, and everything else.

I guess part of the manifesto of this album is to communicate that it’s okay, and it doesn’t mean the songs are any less meaningful, important, and valuable. It’s just a different dimension. In its own way, maybe a creative life outside of that world can be more authentic and valuable because it’s not compromised by the pressure of capitalism. Either way, the creative process is its own reward, and individuality needs to be celebrated. I believe our culture depends on that. Humanity depends on that. So I measure success by the way a record makes me feel when I hear it, and the degree to which I was able to express the idea or emotion that I set out to express. I’m motivated by a desire to make something beautiful, and feel blessed every day that I have the opportunity to create and share things that may inspire others in some small way. I want to build a great body of work and a legacy. I want my sons to know a father who stayed true to a creative vision, and worked at it. I want them to know what that means.

I’ve recently read Quicksand by Steve Toltz, a rather hyperactive novel in which a teacher has written a book to help creative people. There are lots of quotable one-liners, but one really stuck out. “We make art because being alive is a hostage situation in which our abductors are silent and we cannot even intuit their demands”. Do you identify with this? Would you say your creative process exists in such a desperate, awfully alive situation?

That’s a really powerful image. I think that it gets down to the heart of faith – the question of whether or not we can intuit our abductor’s demands. I’d like to believe that we can intuit their demands, and art is one of the ways we are able to do so. And maybe that’s what the author is implying? Or at least, maybe the implication is that we should ask the question? Art doesn’t feel like a stab in the dark for me. It feels like a healing, or a transcendence of the pain of that uncertainty.

You have a job and a family so this question will probably make you laugh, but I’m interested distractions from working creatively and was wondering if you find a particular thing gets in the way of making music? Like, besides general life stuff? I’ve purposefully not signed up to the internet at the library because I’m genuinely 5x more productive without it. David Foster Wallace lived without a TV in his home. Are there any specific things you have to avoid or deny yourself in order to make musical progress?

The internet is a big thing. It’s always there and it’s irresistible. Netflix is a big thing. Being married too – I love spending time with my wife, and it’s very easy to crash on the couch with her at the end of the day. I find that to stay on task the only thing that works for me is to give myself projects, set goals and a timeline for myself, and commit to a schedule. I write it down in my notebook and do my best to commit to it. I used to be much more manic about it, I’ve gotten better at finding the balance. Also – involving collaborators in the process is always helpful for me, because I feel a sense of responsibility to do my part and send them mixes to listen to, review, give feedback on, etc. The keeps momentum and drives a project forward.

Right, I don’t want to get too deep here but there’s something I often wonder and although it’s vague to the point of rhetorical I want to ask you because the album pokes at similar themes. Is the dissatisfaction and emptiness you battle right across Take It Forever a modern thing? Or is it just the by-product of being aware of our own mortality? I mean, do you think our parents/grandparents felt the same way we do?

I think there is something about the sort of dissatisfaction we experience that is unique to our time. I tried to describe that in the title track, with the lines: “Everyone is casting spells, and building myths around themselves. All we want is everything, and all we find is suffering.” It’s funny we have all these great tools to allow us communicate more easily than ever before, but people are probably more self-absorbed in general than ever before. I’m not religious in any dogmatic sense, but I have embraced and incorporated Buddhist philosophy into my life over the last few years, and that has changed my perspective a lot. I’ve become more aware of my own need for validation. I think every artist has that. Most people in general do. Part of that is the human condition but it’s also exaggerated by a modern need for instant gratification, and a feeling of lack. I think about my grandfather, who for the sake of brevity I will describe as a man who basically had the personality of Gene Hackman’s character in The Royal Tenenbaums. I can’t imagine him checking his Instagram to see how many likes his selfie got. I can’t imagine him giving a damn about any of that. I admire that, but then here I am, carefully curating my personal brand. It’s sort of hilarious. I guess the key is to keep a sense of humor about it, and not take anything too seriously. Nothing matters, everything matters. “How strange it is to be anything at all.”

I asked this last time but it was long enough ago to ask again. Could you name 4-5 bands you are enjoying at the moment? Who do you find yourself turning to?

I was really taken with Hop Along’s Painted Shut LP, and also Sufjan’s Carrie and Lowell. I was a little late getting to listen to Joanna Newsom’s Divers, but got that recently and it’s really something to behold. I dig that Nap Eyes record that everyone is talking about also. They remind me of a band my friend and old guitar player/producer Phil Jimenez produced called The Piltones, back in 2002 or so. I’m also co-producing a new record right now for my friend Tim Lannen, formerly of The Diggs, so I’m pretty engrossed in that. It’s turning out to be amazing.

You can buy Take It Forever now via Beat Radio’s Bandcamp page. Read our review here.

The post Interview: Beat Radio, Part II. appeared first on Various Small Flames.

But while Sendrowitz has often written relatable music, it’s not often he has turned the light on his own life. However, new album Take It Forever could see this change, taking the chance to explore what it means to be a musician and an artist in our current society. We’re delighted to bring you a premiere of the second track ‘Lost in the World’, what is possibly Beat Radio’s most direct writing to date. An autobiographical song, it starts by detailing his relationship with music and writing (in what could quite easily be taken as a metaphor for life itself) and becomes a call to arms for creative people, playing out as an anthem of advice and encouragement complete with a rather triumphant sound:

“So we never got famous
and we never left home
there were times when I was lonely
I was never alone
and all my friends got tired
everybody moves on
I always seemed to find a reason and
I kept singing songs”

If the other song titles are anything to go by (‘Art is a War, There are Casualties’, ‘I Dreamed the Internet Ended’) Take It Forever will continue this exploration of creating music/art in modern society, a theme clearly important to Sendrowitz. Beat Radio are a band formed upon the notion of art as an undying passion, one which must survive and persevere on the thin side of real life. Jobs, partners, children… all of these things are realities for the contemporary artist, whether it sits nicely with your romantic ideals or not, and an ability (or otherwise) to pursue art as your primary method of income has never been further from a fair yardstick as to the quality and value of your work. Indeed, Sendrowitz took this a step further in an interview we did in 2013:

“Whenever I put pressure on music to have it be something that could take the place of my day job, it always seems to take the joy out of it“

And it makes sense. I mean, just listen to a Beat Radio song. It comes through. Sendrowitz makes music because he is driven to do so, by himself and no-one else. Because it makes him happy. Because it makes him feel alive. What could be a more pure motivation than that? Have a listen to ‘Lost in the World’ below and see what I mean:

P.S. Beat Radio have a great song on our compilation tape in aid of global literacy. Why not grab yourself one?

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Described as an “LP vinyl set of music, art prints, essays and tide table”, Concrete Antenna sees the artists produce a substantial body of work inspired by their sound installation in the new tower at Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop. Full of warm drones, the album is a neo-classical exploration of the environment, using field recordings from the local area and archival sound samples dressed with gentle electronics and minimalist piano. Think somewhere between Lejsovka & Freund and Benjamin Shaw. The result is something rich and evocative, packed with the slow, geological melancholy conjured by time passing over a landscape.

Check out the short documentary on the project below:

The post Tommy Perman, Simon Kirby & Rob St. John: Concrete Antenna appeared first on Various Small Flames.

The art piece for this track is by the multi-talented Kat Burns, an artist, voice-over actor and musician (formerly Forest City Lovers, now KASHKA. You can follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and Instagram.You can pre-order Quiet, Constant Friends now via the Wake The Deaf Bandcamp page, both digitally and on limited edition cassette.

The post Quiet, Constant Friends: Salt Altars – Little Big Man appeared first on Various Small Flames.

1st place: Signed Chalkie print, and swag bag
2nd place: 12 month subscription to the NME (subject to change, ha!)
3rd place: £25 SeeTickets Voucher
Runner up prizes: 5 contestants will receive a Chalkie swag bagBe sure to follow the correct museum Twitter and Tumblr accounts so they can contact you should you win. The closing date for entries is 21 August 2015. All further details (including Ts&Cs) can be found on the Museum Wales website. UK residents only I’m afraid.

All Photos © Chalkie Davies

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Without getting too much into politics and the mind-melting confusion of the economy, British museums… are under threat from the current climate of austerity. What better way to ensure the survival of an institute than to make it central to the lives and well-being of the people it serves?

Luckily for those in the vicinity of Cardiff, the good people at the museum are not content with what they have put on so far, with a number of events and activities coming up over the next few weeks:

Fragile? Keith Harrison in Conversation – 19th July, 13:30

First up is a Q&A with Keith Harrison, one of the artists who was commissioned to design a piece for the Fragile? exhibition. Harrison will be joined by members of the National Museum Cardiff Youth Forum to discuss his work, and members of the public (i.e. you!) are invited/urged to send questions to ensure that the talk is as informative and interesting as possible. If you can’t get to Cardiff then do not fear, the Learning department twitter account (@MuseumCdf_Learn) will be beaming all the best bits onto the world wide web. To pose a question to Harrison, simply tweet using the hashtag #mute (or #mud for welsh speakers).

Full details for the free event can be found here.

P.S. If you needed further convincing, Spillers Records will be taking over the decks in the Fragile? exhibition ahead of the annual Spillers photo shoot on the steps of the museum. So why not head to the gallery before the Q&A (or linger after it) to soak up some good art and music?

DIY Zine Workshops 

The second cool thing going on is a series of zine making workshops, where highly trained individuals (ahem) will give you “Zine 101” and help harness the subversive energy of Chalkie Davies and his subjects.

It’s pretty much scientific fact that the coolness of your zine is exponentially linked to the thought you put into it, so you are advised to wrack your brains the night before and bring a selection of suitable materials to aid your creation. Have a poem you are too scared to show your friends? Put it in your zine and pretend it’s by someone else! Have a bunch of weird old magazines lying in your attic? Bring them along to butcher in the name of art!*

Of course, the contents of your zine will be limited only by the size of your imagination. You could make one to gush about the music you love, or scathing one about music you hate, or an angry one about the government, or far-out one in support of David Icke’s world views. You could make a statement about your identity or your dog or your football team, or maybe describe your excitement for the new X-Files/Twin Peaks reboots.

Details for the free adult event (18/19th July) can be found here, and for the family sessions here (for 21-24th July) and here (28th – 31st July)

*Although be aware that overly weird magazines might be confiscated on entry.

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“A dark love poem about self-discovery, realizing the things you love, close friends and adventure, limitations and failures, and bouts with depression”

Van Vliet is an interesting songwriter, not afraid to ply his trade across a diverse of genres. As well as the fragile folk songs as On The Water, he also writes doom metal with his band Ulthar and theatrical post-punk for the now defunct Da Comrade. You get the impression that Van Vliet is an artist confident in his abilities, drawing from the twin wells of creativity and experience.

Chicago artist Nnamdi Ogbonnaya has created a new video for their song ‘Born in Reverse, a strange stop-motion collage that sits perfectly with the lyrical themes of death, decay and, naturally, life (a similar theme to that of Young Jesus’ Grow / Decompose). The figure in the video, made up of a mish-mash of human and animal parts, is subject to confusion and terror and joy as life lives and dies in front of his eyes. The track itself a great introduction to On The Water, highlighting Van Vliet’s intimate, impassioned vocals and delicate arrangements which place the songs somewhere between the folk songs of Keaton Henson and Bonnie “Prince” Billy:

“Autumn leaves are falling to the ground. They decay but they are becoming something else. All will be and all will be born again. Finally all will be formless. All things must go. All things must go that way”

You can buy Cordelia now via the On The Water Bandcamp page. Nnamdi Ogbonnaya also has a Bandcamp page, where you will find his wonderfully strange multi-instrumental compositions.

P.S. On The Water are currently touring the US. You can find all the dates and details here.

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However, in the year following the release of their last album, Huebert began to suffer from a severe inner ear condition, a problem which evaded conventional diagnosis. Anyone who has suffered from ear problems will know that they can be far more crippling than you would imagine. You can’t hear other people and can’t tell if they can hear you, leading to a profound sense of isolation and often panic. Indeed, Huebert suffered from anxiety and depression, a problem accentuated by the fact that the one sense he relied on to make sense of his emotions was taken away from him.

In lieu of a clinical solution, Huebert turned to meditation and prolonged silence and eventually began to piece together a new album, rehearsing with his band at very low volumes to ease the pain. The resulting songs ultimately became Nervous, an album that charts the period and explores the interplay between physical and psychological suffering, utilizing a beguiling brand of gothic art rock and the dream-logic of a labyrinthine haunted house, or perhaps of Huebert’s mind during the troubling period.     

The record opens with discordant instrumentation and unsettling children’s choir vocals that swirl menacingly like the theme of an evil cartoon. Huebert’s familiar vocals kick in after a minute or so, whispered through the reappearing choir and Colin Stetson’s sax with an earnest desperation, imploring you to listen. “Sometimes you get caught,” he sings, “sometimes you get away. It goes without saying.” The track sets a precedent of unorthodox song structure, with tracks on the album often morphing into distant relations of their former selves, swerving off in directions unseen.

The second track, ‘Bank Accounts and Dollar Bills’, is the pure embodiment of the aforementioned shapeshifting. It begins with a laidback tropical vibe with breezy vocal melodies, before entering a big, punchy (almost Arcade Fire-esque) chamber pop phase. Around two-thirds through it then mutates again, this time to feature sci-fi synths, before finally reverting to the easygoing slide guitar and thus completing the song’s varied cycle.

‘Violent Motion Pictures’ feels like a dream, with its opaque imagery (“Do you really want to see statues turn all the way around to say hello?”) and abnormal, fluctuating narrative. Stetson’s sax makes another appearance, snaking around like the tendrils of a nightmare and making the childlike falsetto “la la la” chorus sound more than a little ominous. The song switches at the halfway point, escaping its cramped and claustrophobic corridors, a creaky old door opening onto a wide and open plain. Huebert’s whispered vocals ride the swirling air currents, “The devil on your shoulder, it’ll get the best of you”.

‘Oval Window’ is perhaps the most similar to previous Siskiyou releases, a surprisingly upbeat song about the psychological problems linked to Huebert’s ear condition. “Maybe I’m just dreaming,” he sings, “sometimes it’s hard to tell”. The song manages to take a difficult subject and make it somehow triumphant, culminating in the refrain “the roof is spinning around me and I can feel the world below my feet”. The title track begins hushed and restrained (“does it hurt all the time? Yeah, I can empathize”) before turning psychedelic, while ‘Imbecile Thoughts’ is a folk-rock song, like a woodsy version of Wolf Parade, picking up the pace as the lyrics tell the tale of an introvert girl, “you gotta get out of the door girl and go look at the sky and wonder why the sun don’t shine like it should and why you are always so misunderstood”. The song builds and builds as Huebert breathlessly delivers the vocals and drums clatter and guitar feedback wails over everything.

Nervous is an album of dizzying scope and ambition, quite literally the tumult of sound and emotion inside one man’s head. It is by turns dark and creepy, shimmering and vibrant. Siskiyou have never sounded so eerie, so threatening, or so expansive. And I have to admit, I don’t think they have ever sounded so good.

Nervous is out now on Constellation Records.

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If you’re even vaguely familiar with Old Earth, then you’ll know that Todd Umhoefer is very much his own man. His influences range from modern-day hip hop to golden oldie pop songs, a blend which he builds on a foundation of experimental folk. Using looped guitars and sparse vocals, Umhoefer creates some of the most interesting and forward-facing art that’s out there today. The album sleeve contains a quote from film soundtrack extraordinaire Bernard Herrmann, beginning with the line, “Musically I count myself as an individualist”. I’m not sure I could think of a better way than these seven simple words to sum up Umhoefer and his artistic goals.

The album consists of just five tracks (named simply ‘Track 1’, ‘Track 2’, etc.), but spans over 30 minutes, with each track shifting and morphing into a variety of guises. In fact, the liner notes show each track split into several component parts, each with a title of its own. These sections meld into one another like events in a dream, the transitions often surreally sudden and spontaneous but retaining an eerie kind of absurd logic. This novel song structure never feels redunant either. It is to Umhoefer’s credit that each element always seems necessary and appropriate.

This non-conformity is illustrated perfectly on the opening track, an eleven minute behemoth which does everything but break the listener in gently. It kicks off with a section called ‘Well Abandonment’, an insistent, driven start of barely restrained guitar and minimal drum work, before the opening line of,

“I wanted walls, for something to push against.
I wanted waves, for something to row.”

One of Umhoefer’s strengths is his ability to make such vague, cryptic lyrics sound important and relevant, with his words often seeming abstract and dislocated. To return to the dream analogy, the lyrics don’t necessarily make narrative sense but they just feel right. The track shifts around the 3:30 mark as a taut guitar line drifts in from the ether, heralding the oncoming of the second section, ‘some Gates’ll swing wide, for us’. This builds to include shuffling drums and Umhoefer’s cry of, “the whole village had their hands in!” The repetitive melody and ethereal ambience are hypnotic, and the best way to listen is to put these tracks on repeat and just let things wander. The third and final segue of ‘Track 1’ occurs around 8:40. ‘Accept that the mark will outlast you’ again features lean and focused guitar work which cuts across the song razor-like, providing a bright and uplifting end to the first track. Soon drums are added and the whole thing becomes a rollicking indie rock tune, perhaps the most conventional “rock music” moment we have seen yet from Old Earth.

Another stand-out, ‘Track 3’, starts as a sign on the horizon, a wisp of dark smoke against the blue-white sky. An ominous force gathers pace and momentum as it approaches, eventually hurtling forward in the furious motion of frantic guitar. Then the vocals are upon you:

“What the hell are these bells doing out?”

Closely followed by one of my favourite lyrical passages on the album:

“One night, I woke up from a nightmare
One night, I woke up from the rain
One night, I woke up from the house shook
And one night I woke up from being alone”

This ominous demand is either a simple set of ambiguous statements or the documentation of some kind of personal epiphany. The track then morphs at around 4:00, a weird reverb-y disintegration paving the way for the slow-building urgency of ‘No Cerra, No’.

If you’ve read this far, then you have probably realised that A Wake in the Wells is not an album that’s going to hurry everyone to the dance floor. If you want toe-tapping sunniness or sing-along choruses then please move along. Good-time rock and roll this is not. Instead we get dynamic, instinctive music-making from a musician whose regard for “the rules” begins and ends with his own innate understanding of them.

This is an album to spend lots of time with. You need to let it wash over you, to become familiar with its dusty corners and idiosyncrasies. I find it difficult to like lots of experimental music, the super-cerebral stuff that you need an advanced maths qualification to understand. A Wake in the Wells is nothing like that. Yes Umhoefer experiments, but all the while he is focused on making something honest and true. I guess the experimentation is simply a means to an end, a way for him to attempt to convey his own personal messages.

I think what I’m trying to get at is that Old Earth’s music is sincere. And I don’t know about you, but sincerity is pretty important to me in art. In fact, I think it may be the most important thing of all. If I’m reading a book or watching a film or listening to an album, the one thing I want is for the artist to mean it. And I realised when listening to A Wake in the Wells over these last few weeks, goddamn does Umhoefer mean it. This is the man who last year (in an interview for WTD) said the killer line, “Fuck irony. I’m trying to make something to uplift myself, and it’s reassuring to me that other people can relate to it.”

So I hope that it’s pretty clear that I like this album a lot. It has drive and ambition and best of all it has heart. I think I’ll let Bernard Herrmann have the last word, his closing remarks capturing perfectly why I love this album (and Old Earth’s music in general) so very much:

“I am not interested in music, or any work of art, that fails to stimulate appreciation of life and, more importantly, pride in life…I believe that only music which springs out of genuine personal emotion is alive and important.”

You can order A Wake in the Wells right now via mini50 records. Please do, you won’t regret it.

P.S. Our American friends will be pleased to hear that Old Earth is currently on tour. You have four chances to see him this week:

Thurs. August 28th, 2014– Turntable (Jamestown, NC), w/ Twin Brother

Fri. August 29th, 2014– Daisy Dukes (Nashville, TN), w/ Twin Brother

Sat. August 30th, 2014– 27 Live (Evanston, IL), w/ Twin Brother

Sun. August 31st, 2014– Club Garibaldi’s (Milwaukee, WI) ALBUM RELEASE w/ Twin Brother
& Joe Crockett

P.P.S. The super-cool cover art is by Jennifer Mehigan.

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The aim of these lists is to present some of the very best new music and to highlight the talent and generosity of artists around the world, people who give their all in terms of time and creative energy for absolutely no monetary return. These are people who create music because that’s what they like to do, not because they want to line their pockets or have a quick flash of publicity.

All that said, there are ways of supporting every single artist on this list. Firstly, tell your friends, your family, your next-door neighbour! Spread the word and give these artists the recognition they deserve. If you like what you hear then let the artists know. The vast majority of bands on this list are not affiliated with a record label and so do not have middle men and PR agents to deal with emails and messages. So why not spend 10-15 minutes of you day writing a message of support to brighten their day a little?

It’s also important to note that each of these releases are available for free download, but many are also available in physical forms (often at very reasonable prices). Many of the download pages also have the option to provide a token cash donation, so if you really love a record on this list, then why not give a little something?

Wake The Deaf’s Favourite Free Music of 2013:

Part I: A-C

Part II: D-H

Part III: I-O

Part IV: P-S

Part V: T-Z

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