Last spring right around this time, I got an email from Thor Harris with the subject line: “Fallen Mormons from Provo, Utah.” His succinct message about this group was, “These guys would be a great addition to the JNR roster. Yours in Satan’s Anus, Thor.”

I clicked on the video link to Little Moon’s Tiny Desk Concert and wrote Thor back.

This is actually good, I told him. How do you know Little Moon?

I don’t, he replied. "I don't know them. I just heard it and thought it would be good for JNR."

To contextualize how unusual this exchange was, I have to review JNR’s demos policy which states:

We will only listen to your demo if it is introduced to us by one of our artists.

This is an experientially informed policy that saves us hundreds of hours a year better spent listening to demos and versions of albums that JNR is actually going to release. It’s no shade on the quality of your work if we don’t listen to your demo: It just means we haven't been properly inroduced by one of our artists with whom you already have an existing relationship or acquaintance. That's how we invite new acts into the family. But here is a case—the first and only case—where the impresario (Thor, in this case)—bypassed the whole ‘having an existing relationship’ phase of the formula. Thor didn’t need to meet Little Moon to know that they were perfect. He knew that they were going to get along with us. And he was right.

Having listened to the sample Thor sent, I realized that Little Moon would be playing a show in Chicago a few days later and booked a trip to go see them. Thus, having already released some four hundred records at the helm of JNR, I found myself dispatched on the one and only A&R mission of my career that resembled—in its opening stages—the traditional and now nostalgic model of artist acquisition by record labels in the twentieth century. I didn’t know these people yet. I didn’t know anybody who knew them. There were other fish in the water looking to sign them.

The show was incredible and resists easy narrative summary but a particular snippet of stage banter stands out in my mind as possibly relatable. “I have to be honest with you,” Emma told the sold-out crowd at the packed show that they were headlining. “I’ve been struggling with diarrhea for the past three weeks on this tour.” 

The audience lost it. Unselfconscious public honesty of this sort is rare enough in any context--but even more rare out of the mouths of 'angelic' female vocalists onstage in front of large crowds. Here is one I will have no trouble believing in, whatever happens. By the time the curtains closed on their set, I was genuinely convinced that I should sign them.

Negotiations took a little while because Little Moon had to be wooed to accept an artistic partnership instead of a massive advance up front.  This is the debt-forward style of label relations, similar to going to an expensive college on the assumption that the job of your dreams will automatically materialize the moment the ink is dry on your diploma. Little Moon chose the path of greater wisdom.

They wrote their first album while dealing with a death in the family and in a crisis of faith. It is unusual and beautiful collection of songs. When asked about the work, Emma said in an interview: “Mormonism believes in life after death, resurrection and eternal families.”

She continues: “There is beauty and comfort in our former beliefs of certainty, light and life; we honor and respect such teachings. But we also find deep beauty in uncertainty, darkness, chaos and death. Perhaps it’s all one and the same.”

As far as we’re concerned at this point, that sounds like the gospel truth. Except that, in this case, we believe it. 

Emma’s voice is something very special. She’s been compared to Joanna Newsom. But that’s not fair: She’s better than Joanna Newsom. Her singing has some novel qualities—that’s true. But it is more universal in its invitation. Bigger. More enveloping in its acoustical embrace.

These songs have certain qualities in common with the old hymns with this important difference: We believe her. We think that you will too.

POSTSCRIPT 

Perhaps our connection with Little Moon was actually an astrologically fated event? The day that ink was dry on the contract, as Emma shared with us recently by text message, corresponded to the rise of this 2024's snow moon--the littlest full moon of the year. 

 

Let me tell you a story: 

I have a four-year-old daughter named Olive. 

Several months ago I picked up my daughter from preschool, and I happened to be playing Marnie Stern’s ‘Chronicles of Marnia’ album in the car on the way home. Olive didn’t speak much during that car ride home… she seemed pensive and reflective. We then arrived home, made dinner, played at the park, and basically had an ordinary evening.

However, the following day we were leaving in the morning to go back to preschool, and my daughter, who was barely verbal at the time, began loudly demanding: “I wanna listen to Power Girl! I want to listen to Power Girl!”

I had no fucking idea what she was talking about, until I remembered that we had listened to Marnie Stern that previous afternoon… the moment I put on Marnie Stern “Year of the Glad”, it was clear that Marnie was in fact “Power Girl” in my young daughter’s supple but rapidly developing mind. To date, “Power Girl” is still Olive’s favorite musician. Olive basically thinks that she’s a superhero. 

Lately, she is constantly asking me things like “Are mermaids real?” “Is Spider-Man real?” And, “Is Power Girl real?” I am happy to be able to reply honestly to that last question - and explain that Power Girl is not only real, but she is a friend of mine, and we are releasing her next album. 

Her first album in 10 years ‘The Comeback Kid’ has just been announced. Enjoy it here: 
https://www.joyfulnoiserecordings.com/products/the-comeback-kid

 

Being a label which has built a strong community around physical vinyl subscriptions over the last decade+, we were put in a rather difficult predicament when facing 2022 – a time when it takes anywhere from 7-14 months to create a traditional vinyl record... Do we fold to the pressures of post-covid life, or do we come up with some other way to keep this community together. 

Well, we came up with a scheme, which is probably best described in The New York Times in an article that was published today:
The way we see it, this vinyl clog consists of at least five dimensions of supply chain disruption:

So, we were faced with a dilemma. And the only idea we had was to rely on our in-house 1940's era lathe-cutting machine to fill the gap. We made a little video of our whole perspective on this thing, which features the perspectives of several of our artists (Greg Saunier of Deerhoof, Cedric Noel, Jess Joy, etc.). Check it out here:

If you would like to support our label and artists and help us weather this storm, please consider signing up for EARLY BIRD VIP!

MORE INFO AND SIGNUP HERE

We die. Then what? Is that it? “That’s it!” says the B love-story girl who offers herself as a living sacrifice to the larger possibilities of this world in Electric Jesus’s dark night of the soul. But is she talking about the finality of death? Or the immortality of music?

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Very few releases that have had such a tremendous impact on what Joyful Noise has become...

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The Church of Noise is a non-profit community, founded by Joyful Noise Recordings' staff and artists. The purpose of Church of Noise is to financially support adventurous music – specifically music that might not otherwise exist in a purely capitalist system. 

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My wife and I had our first child this past Monday. We decided to go the midwife route and have the baby in the comfort of our own home. And though we didn't plan on it ahead of time, Sigur Rós became a spur of the moment, life-altering soundtrack to our birth. It was an experience so impactful, I felt the need to share it with the internet. So here is my story.

Around 3am on February 4, my wife Kiely started having contractions. But as existing parents can attest, first stage labor is a VERY different animal... In first stage labor it's totally possible to get through the one minute bouts of discomfort, and then go back to watching Unsolved Mysteries or whatever. Which is basically what we were doing.

But by mid-afternoon, the contractions grew closer together and evolved into something else entirely... It became clear that Kiely had graduated to a state of labor where she couldn't bounce back to normal reality in between contractions. We were now well within the fucked up, otherworldly process of giving birth.

Kiely and I had not previously discussed what music she might want to listen to during labor... which is weird because of the fact that we work in the music industry, and we had just spent the previous several months obsessing over every aspect of our birth plan... but somehow we never broached the subject of our "labor music".

So it wasn't until the intense labor began that I finally asked Kiely what (if any) music she wanted to listen to. The first thing out of her mouth was "something soothing and ambient, like Sigur Rós". And rather than try and juggle LPs at a time like this, I put on an endless Spotify playlist that kept feeding us new random Sigur Rós songs for the duration of the labor... It was magical.

The peaks and valleys of the music seemed uncannily timed with her contractions. When there were relaxed periods of music, her body responded by relaxing, and when her body went into contractions the music seemingly responded with glorious intensity. Her unconscious coos and groans melted with the music into a beautiful, somewhat disturbing chorus.

Here is some video evidence:


At around 10pm Kiely migrated to the birthing pool, located in our nursery. And at 11:30pm on February 4, Olive Isadora Hofstetter slipped into my arms. I do not remember what song was playing when she was born, but I know it was perfect.

Throughout the 19.5 hours of labor, we didn't listen to any music other than Sigur Rós, and I don't believe we repeated any song twice (though I'm sure from the perspective of our birth attendants it sounded like the same song on repeat for 8 hours). The music of Sigur Rós, like the act of giving birth, is not always beautiful. Certain aspects are ugly and terrifying. But it is a journey - conveying a perspective of reality that is at once wholly organic, yet impossibly grand.

The music of Sigur Rós helped us fully feel the fact that we were in the midst of one of the most meaningful human moments we could ever hope to experience. A new life was coming from our bodies. Even in the moment, we knew this was something we would remember forever, and something that would impact the world even after we are gone.

We would like to thank Sigur Rós for inadvertently creating the best birthing soundtrack imaginable, and forever impacting our lives as a result.

xoxo,
Karl, Kiely, and Olive

Back in January we had already released Richard Edwards' debut album, which was still deep in the negative due to the crazy recording and PR overhead. Nevertheless we were gearing up to release his companion album Verdugo. But on the eve of the announcement, we discovered that he had decided to start his own monthly subscription, which directly impacted his upcoming release...

We were completely blindsided by this, and honestly we were kind-of heartbroken as we saw this as a deliberate attempt to undercut our sales for his own benefit, rather than working with us as as a 50/50 partner. And it stung extra bad seeing him do this after we had already put so much time, energy and goodwill into his upcoming release. So I wrote Richard to express our point of view, but unfortunately he didn't see things from our perspective... and his response solidified the reality that we had to split.

To be clear, I feel no animosity toward Richard. I remain a fan of his music, and remain his friend. But it became obvious that our paths were diverging. And after talking with my wife and a few mutual friends, it seemed like the healthiest scenario was for us to go our separate ways. As difficult as it was to divorce ourselves, there was a strong sense that we were swimming against the current... and after we separated, it immediately felt as though we had "obeyed the universe" or something...

Within a matter of hours after "obeying the universe", I received this email:

Honestly, my first thought was to just delete this email without even opening it (I am admittedly ignorant of most music in this world, and had not previously heard of Swamp Dogg). I have developed an aggressive sense of bullshit detection when it comes to demos, and I just couldn't imagine that an artist called "Swamp Dogg" would be promising... but upon inspection I was completely amazed.

When I first heard it, my thought was "is this as good as it seems?!?! I HAVE to be missing something here..." So I sent it to some of my trusted friends: Tim Kinsella, Kishi Bashi, and Jeb Banner. These are three guys who's musical opinions I immensely respect, and who have NEVER agreed on ANYTHING in the musical realm. And all three of them replied with some variation of "holy shit, this is amazing". That's when I knew I wasn't crazy.

That evening I brought the record home to play it for my wife, Kiely. Now, Kiely is typically a naysayer when it comes to new outrageous projects like this, but she also has a flawless bullshit detector. And within minutes, she exclaimed “Oh my god, he is family!“ She knew instinctively Swamp Dogg was a perfect fit for Joyful Noise.

Within a couple days I was flying to Minneapolis to meet with Ryan, who produced the record. We hung out at his art-space-studio, shooting the shit until 5am (without the use of illicit substances, amazingly). Big takeaways from that trip included a cover art concept, and the need to record a final song for the album... something to wrap it all up in a nice bow, "A Day In The Life" style (the resulting track "Star Dust" materialized about a week later).

I know this sounds crazy, but our relationship with Swamp feels "divinely arranged" somehow... It feels as though, because of the very difficult decision we had to make with Richard, the universe rewarded us with a much better fit. Even though, weirdly, that makes it sound as though the universe traded us a 30 year old white guy for a 75 year old black man... I don't claim to know how the universe works, but I'm not complaining about this trade. I think we're on the right path.

We are incredibly honored to release this record, and if there’s any justice in the world this album will get the respect it deserves as one of the seminal albums in the lineage of a truly historic artist.

xo,karl

Buy / Listen to Swamp Dogg's incredible album here:

I've never worked so closely with someone so far away... 

I was not familiar with Sleep Party People prior to a very kind email sent to me on September 20, 2016. Included in this email was a playlist with "12 songs of a pool of 22 songs in the running for the new album". So, the first 12 songs of a total of 22 songs this band was recording, any of which might make it onto the new album. 

I learned that Sleep Party People is in fact one guy: Brian Batz, a Danish multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, and producer, who makes beautiful music and wears a funny bunny mask when he plays live. 

Over the course of the following months I got to know Brian's work very well. I worked closely with Brian to trim his 22 songs down to 12 songs, each meticulously arranged in a compelling sonic arch... which was not an easy task. You may not know this yet, but Brian Batz does not write shitty songs. So the task was not simply to separate the good songs from the bad (or the "catchy" songs from the more esoteric songs); the goal was to determine which songs best fit the artistic identity of the album. In fact, I think we ended up cutting a few songs that were arguably better than those that made the cut—because we were not thinking of this as a "best of" collection... we were working to create an album that took on a life of its own (but not to worry, we are planning to release all of the cut songs at a later date).

Curating this album was a particularly challenging endeavor because of the type of music Sleep Party People creates. Some bands write the type of "stand-alone" songs where the album can be listened to on random and the listener will get essentially the same effect. Not so with Sleep Party People. In my opinion, SPP is on the other end of the spectrum, where the context of the songs within the tracklisting, and the overall trajectory of the album's mood is extremely important for fully understanding the music. 

All of this is to say I was involved with crafting this album even more so than most JNR releases, and I am very grateful to Brian for trusting me and JNR to contribute to his album. 

Now begins the work of letting the world know about this amazing artist! This is an interesting task, as JNR has never worked with a band that is infinitely bigger outside the US than they are within the US. Sure we have a few bands that do better overseas, but SPP's popularity in places like Poland, Istanbul, Mexico City, and Taiwan is almost inexplicable... When they play in such locations, Brian and his live band will routinely draw 2000 people who all show up in homemade bunny masks. No foolin'. 

I can't say for sure, but I attribute that the band's popularity in these remote regions of the world to the increased access to information and music that has occurred over the last couple years. With the emergence of streaming services like Spotify and YouTube, portions of the globe which never had a local record store now have access to all of the music in the world. This is life-changing for the culturally-starved youth in those regions. And in this atmosphere, Sleep Party People is somehow rising to the top. Which is pretty fucking cool... It's like an accidental success that stemmed from the will of a disenfranchised populace, without any strings being pulled by labels, marketing dollars, or anyone with a financial incentive. It's like the "American dream", but it's now happening simply because Spotify became available in Istanbul.

We hope the US catches up and appreciates this band as much as we do.

xo, Karl

---

Fun fact:
Dr. Dre (yes, THE Dr. Dre) apparently knows who Sleep Party People is... He sampled them on this track. Weird, right?