Anas is a cheerful young man. You wouldn't even dream of him fleeing three years ago. He laughs at himself, is at peace with his life. The slim giant is the head of the Syrian band Khebez Dawle (pronounce: 'Kewess 'Daule). Her name means as much as bread from the state. The band's first CD, "Khebez Dawle", is not exciting because it has a refugee bonus, but because it combines moments of experimental and sometimes quite hard rock with Arabic music in a gripping and absolutely unusual way, without ever falling into the trap of any world music ecstasy.

England is often referred to as the last prog band of the seventies. When their only studio record came out, Progressive Rock was already in the throes of death. The group itself came to an abrupt end due to a series of unfortunate coincidences - which is why keyboarder/singer Robert Webb, who has lived in Greece for fifteen years, looks back on this time with a laughing and a crying eye. "In the heyday of progressive rock, between 1967 and 1977, the musicians had every freedom to do what they wanted," explains Webb, who once sawed his Mellotron in half for transport reasons. "For two hundred years the British had had no musical style of their own. Progressive Rock thus offered the opportunity to create an independent music in Great Britain."

There are texts that you are afraid of having to write one day. It never occurred to me that I was forced to formulate an obituary on Piotr Grudziński during my active time as a music journalist. We're practically the same age. But Grudziński died on 21 February. Forty years old. His heart suddenly failed, they say. Like many other music fans, Piotr Grudziński touched me deeply with his playing.

After the dispute with his record companies EMI and Polydor, Fish decided to take a courageous step: in 1994 he founded his own label with Dick Bros. without further ado, but he was shipwrecked with it. The albums that the Scottish singer released between 1997 and 2003 are characterized by a constant, involuntary change: changing record companies and changing songwriters made it difficult for Fish, who himself doesn't know any instrument, to follow his course. He has documented all this in his extensive essays on the re-releases "Sunsets On Empire", "Raingods With Zippos" and "Fellini Days", which are now being released. However, we wanted to know a few more details.

eclipsed: The remasters of the three albums sound fantastic, especially on "Raingods With Zippos" Calum Malcolm did a great job.

JOE BONAMASSA - Mountain Climbing (5:42)
Album: Blues Of Desperation (2016)
Label/Distribution: Provogue/Mascot Label Group/Rough Trade
www.jbonamassa.com

Even if the master appears here rather stylish than excessive, "Mountain Climbing" bundles all qualities of Bonamassas twelfth studio album "Blues Of Desperation" in a perfect way: Biting songwriting, powerful groove and earthy guitar sounds refined by a top production.

The story of "Tail" begins on November 25, 1974 at the latest at the Hotel Swingos in Cleveland, Ohio. "Peter came into my hotel room and said, 'Listen, I can't do this anymore. At the end of the tour I will leave the band', recalls Genesis' former manager Tony Smith. The group had just started the second part of their extensive US tour in Chicago a few days earlier. It had long been established in Great Britain and on the European mainland. In the States, however, it was still waiting for the breakthrough. She had only done six shows so far. More than 90 evenings lay ahead of her until the end of the tour on 22 May 1975 in Besançon, France, when Gabriel burst the bomb. The group agreed not to let anything get outside at first. The fear that fewer tickets might be sold was probably just a pretext. Secretly some in the band hoped Peter could change his mind.

For the man with the enormous curly head and the circular saw voice the album almost means a new start. Since the departure of his former fellow musicians Myles Heskett and Chris Ross in 2008 - only shortly after the brilliant kick start - Stockdale has seen a lot of things different than hoped for. The three newcomers were able to take home a Grammy for the catchy tune "Woman". Then the road got bumpy. The second album "Cosmic Egg" turned out to be a difficult procedure, the separation then took place due to the usual ominous "musical and personal differences".

A lucrative business, as his office on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles shows. Because Jampol Artist Management Inc. resides in the Plaza del Sol - in the epicenter of Hollywood. The walls are littered with rock devotional objects, three employees and a secretary look discreetly stressed on an early Monday morning, and the boss receives behind a monstrous desk, which is completely overloaded with files, books, CDs and notes. The first impression: not a smooth businessman in a designer suit, but no Vollnerd either. Jeff Jampol is a big, brawny guy in jeans and T-shirt, whose handshake is painful and proves to be a mixture of music freak and marketing genius. Finally he discovered a gap in the market, which - because Rock'n'Roll is getting older and older - is absolutely crisis-proof and where he has no competition so far.

eclipsed: How do you become the manager of dead musicians?