Search:parallel though

If – in some parallel universe (or perhaps a not-so-distant-future version of the one we’re already sentenced to living in) – the evil overloads of artificial intelligence were actually successful in their attempts to create convincingly enjoyable “original music,” more specifically tasked with wholly encapsulating my own personal tastes by data-chugging some cocktail of – oh, I don’t know – the posters on my wall, the records in my “most listened to” pile, the mixtapes I made for others, intensive physical scans of my auditory cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, heart strings, whatever else they have splayed out on their autopsy table with the intention of generating one all-encompassing “perfect band” based on the fruitful sum of their findings – that band, for me, would be (or would at least sound exactly like) the Tara Clerkin Trio. It is, quite simply, without exception, the music I wish to hear.

Formed in Bristol UK (where none of them are from yet all of whom are deeply engrained) in 2020, the Tara Clerkin Trio – as it somewhat democratically exists today, despite the singular authority implied by its name – consists of the titular Tara Clerkin, her partner Sunny Joe Paradisos, and Sunny’s brother, Patrick Benjamin. I’ll confess, I don’t know what their respective roles are within the operation and there’s only a very small part of me that cares to learn, as one of my favorite qualities in an objective listening experience is the mystery of who is playing what, which sounds are “authentic” versus synthesized, which chunks are performed “live” in a room together versus meticulously Frankenstein’ed from measure to measure, or how exactly the overall sound is so (seemingly) effortlessly achieved. Though, I suspect, if and when I do witness a live performance by this band at any point, my enjoyment of the music will not be lost in my better understanding of it.

With two extraordinary mini-albums – In Spring (2021) and On The Turning Ground (2023) – making a splash on London’s formidable World of Echo label in wake of their self-titled 2020 debut, this upcoming Somewhere Good LP is, in many ways, the band’s most realised work. In running their usual gauntlet of idiosyncratic (*an overused adjective for which here there is regrettably no sufficient alternative) approaches, Clerkin & co. colour in and outside of compositional lines over the course of 40+ celebratory minutes - never wallowing, despite inherently somber subject matters of self-defeat, disease, displacement, restlessness, gentrification - allowing their arrangements and improvisations ample space and time to situate, stretch out, breathe, cross-pollinate, and ultimately take deeper hold on the listener’s imagination – all while somehow sounding more like themselves than ever before.

Of course, there are traceable influences herein, if one felt that such comparisons were necessary to properly examine and enjoy this music (they aren’t)… Being the big dumb American from the small boring town that I am, cornfed on ‘90s alternative radio with the enchantingly exotic sounds of Maxinquaye and Mezzanine emanating from my chunky tube television, I can’t help but to make a blatantly obvious reference to a “Bristol sound”, ie the whole trip-hop trip, the pastoral crooning over the suggestive urban grime of cracked electro/piano treatments, the digitally-yet-primitively reconstructed James Bond soundtrack string-beats, etc.. But the Tara Clerkin Trio is so infinitely much more than that. There are elements of avant-pop, modern classical, kraut-folk, audio verité, dare I say indie rock (and not of the beer guzzling, masturbatory fuzz-flex variety but perhaps more like a Trish Keenan-fronted Faust, Adrian Sherwood at the mixing desk of If You’re Feeling Sinister, or – in expanding on our alternate reality – a world in which High Llamas cut a full-length for Warp Records with Andrew Weatherall on coffee duty).

The hazy, unmappable skyline-mirage of droning harmonium, upright bass, peculiarly accentuated wind instruments, acoustic guitar, hushed yet literally mighty keys combine to hypnotizing effect. The band may make underlying nods to jazz, sure, but it’s not appropriation, it’s that they have the actual chops to build it out. Beneath the janky samples and oddball percussive embellishment lies actually great drumming. Beyond the manipulated vocal witchery and woefully reflective plain-spoke moments are Tara’s subtly inspired melodies, sung with what might honestly be the glue to the whole crazy equation. A calming consistency throughout the otherwise unpredictably dynamic, boldly intuitive, uniquely British exploration of this (their own) universe in song. – Ryan Davis (Chicago, February 2026)

pdqb shows no signs of slowing down. Relentlessly productive and constantly locked into transmission mode, it delivers 13 tracks of its unmistakable Electro-Cognition sound. Sharp, futuristic, body-moving music wired straight into the nervous system.

From precision electro workouts to mind-bending synth transmissions, every track hits with purpose, style, and identity.

However, the remix lineup is equally heavyweight. Four elite reworks from four serious operators, each one twisting the source code into new dimensions.

---

Half pinball table, half neural reactor, wired directly into a wall of aging synthesizers. The so-called Transient Witness (aka Preconscious Data Quantum Buffer) records not what people did - but what they almost did: Every flash of hesitation, every thought that vanished before becoming real, every dream erased at sunrise.

At its center pulses a synthetic brain, decoding impulses too brief for language. These signal transients are micro-events that appear and disappear in milliseconds.

When activated, the table will not play sound. It remembers it. Each collision of steel ball and sensor triggers forgotten futures, lost timelines, phantom rhythms from decisions never taken. Basslines from parallel selves. Melodies from unrealized lives. Percussion patterns from collapsing probabilities.

The 13 original tracks featured on this release are a transmission recovered from one of its sessions. Electro pulses, synaptic breaks, machine funk, and signals from thoughts that never survived long enough to exist.

Some grooves don’t rush to the dancefloor — they crawl there, slow and heavy, like smoke wrapping around a bassline. With Fragments of Reality, The Balek Band sculpt an electronic funk that lives between shadow and light — an end-of-the-world fever dream, a Barjavel-style Ravage where chaos turns nihilistic.

No sequencer grid here — just four musicians sharing the same room, shaping air and tension together: drums locked tight with a slap bass, a guitar dripping with echo and heat, and a one-man orchestra behind his machines, weaving acid lines and synth arpeggios while mixing the band live — drenching it in delay, reverb, and saturation, like a dub producer in a Kingston studio, Lee Scratch Perry or King Tubby conjuring ghosts through smoke.

This isn’t fusion — it’s friction. A living ritual where the TB-303 hums, and machines don’t dominate but converse with the human pulse. Each track feels like a night that refuses to end — that humid in-between where trance slips into languor, and the body starts to think for itself.

The record recalls the cosmic jazz of Alain Mion or Eddy Louiss meeting the fiery energy of West African afrobeat musicians freshly arrived in a smoky Belleville basement in the mid-’80s. When The Balek Band summon ghosts, it’s only to reshape them — bending the past into something futuristic, alive, and strangely refreshing. Both disciplined and delirious, Fragments of Reality feels like a promise at dawn: dark funk for the late hours, slow acid for warm blood.

This EP isn’t nostalgic, though it remembers. It’s a transmission from a parallel past — a moment when jazz players met drum machines and decided never to stop playing. Each note sweats, each rhythm breathes. You can almost see the light cutting through the haze, faces half-awake, half-possessed.

The Balek Band aren’t recreating a moment — they’re keeping it alive.
Flesh and cables. Impulse and patience.
A band, not a loop.
A trip, not a format.

There are records that do not so much belong to an era as they pass through it, leaving traces rather than statements, circulating in the margins where function outweighs discourse. World Cup, written at the end of the 1990s by Kiko, emerged in precisely that way — as a techno track whose presence was felt less through promotion than through repetition, carried from booth to booth, absorbed into the working vocabulary of DJs who recognized in it something immediate and self-evident. Its architecture is minimal yet insistent, driven by tension and release, a form of clarity that resists ornament and instead privileges duration, pressure, and movement.

When it resurfaced in 2006, it did not return as a revision but as a continuation, reaffirming its role within the ecology of the dancefloor. The same internal logic remained intact, allowing it to re-enter circulation without friction, as though it had simply been waiting to be picked up again. In both instances, the track operates less as a fixed object than as a tool — something to be used, extended, and recontextualized in real time.

Bringing together these two versions alongside Tainted Life, the release traces a subtle but telling trajectory. If World Cupdefines a certain techno functionalism, Tainted Life reveals another dimension: a proto-Italo sensibility that gestures toward what would later coalesce as electroclash, not through stylistic declaration but through texture, tone, and attitude. Long absent from digital circulation and largely confined to obscurity, it appears here not as a rediscovery, but as a piece whose relevance has simply remained latent.

Nothing has been added, nothing has been altered beyond what was necessary to restore presence. The recordings are allowed to exist in their own continuity, detached from the temporal markers that might otherwise confine them.

The artwork, conceived by H5, extends this approach into the visual field. Its restraint is not aesthetic minimalism for its own sake, but a form of structural clarity, where composition and absence articulate a space in which the record can be encountered without interference, as if resurfacing from a parallel timeline that never fully closed.

VA – Parallel Sequences continues MixCult Records’ tradition of curating forward-thinking soundscapes for refined dancefloors. This four-track compilation brings together the finely tuned craftsmanship of Kirill Matveev, Genning, Overt, and Dawn Gab — producers with surgical precision and a deep understanding of space, groove, and sonic narrative. Together, they present a multi-faceted EP rooted in dub techno and tech house, designed with intention and built to navigate a wide emotional range throughout the night.

A1. Kirill Matveev – Never Losing That Track (Overt Remix) is a masterclass in momentum. It rises patiently yet confidently — perfect for steering the atmosphere toward something uplifting, with each element unfolding with deliberate purpose.

A2. Genning – Parallel shifts the energy into shadowy territory. Deep, dubby, and melancholic, it acts as a reset moment — cooling the air while preserving depth, tension, and forward motion.

On the flip, B1. Dawn Gab – Call Of The Wind moves between melodic phrases and swinging percussive patterns, offering a graceful push-and-pull that feels fluid, textured, and inviting.

Finally, B2. Genning & Kirill Matveev – Blueberry brings the release to its emotional peak with bright, expressive energy. Melodic and high-spirited, it is engineered precisely for a euphoric moment on the floor.

This EP is a toolkit for thoughtful selectors — designed to glide through introspection, propulsion, and release with clarity and finesse. Whether opening a night, shaping the arc, or closing with warmth, Parallel Sequences delivers depth, agility, and emotional charge in perfect balance.

A1 - Tried So Hard
Intensely atmospheric from the outset, Tried So Hard sees ASC explore a more minimal approach to breakbeats with sparse drums and kicks tentatively held at arm's length by imposing hi hats. Dripping with depth and a dense layer of synthwork enveloping the landscape, this unique track develops continually with a suite of interlocking effects while the vocal yearns "I've tried so hard" - both haunting and thought provoking.

A2 - Parallel Seas
Cheery synths and lively bongos introduce us to Parallel Seas, which quickly becomes a glorious, powerful amen workout providing that perfect blend of atmospheric bliss alongside crunchy, analogue amens programmed with ASC's exquisite attention to detail - crashing triumphantly to an upbeat rhythm, littered with rousing vocal hits, elegant synthwork and nods to yesteryear galore.

AA1 - Alacrity
An energetic, surging breakbeat powers Alacrity as ASC utilises breaks reminiscent of classic driving atmospheric tracks of the past from scene legends including Intense and Artemis. Uniquely constructed with a pulsating, fluid energy, the break pattern utilises relentless kicks, cymbals and a wonderful long snare primed to move the dancefloor as synths wash and a lush vocal whooshes along in ecstasy.

AA2 - Glimmer Of Hope
Jumping straight in with a DJ-friendly beat intro, ASC selects a crisp, definitive selection of old school cuts for Glimmer of Hope, chopped and served with a barrage of sci-fi effects, micro melodies, a bellowing, rumbling bassline and a serene intensity driven by dreamy pads resulting in a perfect patchwork of elements, offering endless layers of detail for your ears to pick through with each listen.

Words by Chris Hayes (Spatial / Red Mist)

You’re NEXUS 21, central to the dizzy zeitgeist of the 1991 adrenaline rammed UK House Music juggernaut, and you have just recorded a masterpiece of an album MIND MACHINES.

DON’T DO IT LIKE THAT - somehow even though your record label love the album it does not get released.
DO IT LIKE THIS - it finally gets issued now.

When Mark Archer and Chris Peat flew back from a seminal recording session at Kevin Saunderson’s KMS Studio in Detroit there was a palpable feel of excitement. Instead of merely paying homage to their Techno forerunners, they were now creating their own just as innovative waveforms.

In the can was a gem - DON’T DO IT LIKE THIS, DO IT LIKE THAT. Motor City songstress Donna Black had unconsciously seemed to add Ma to the start of her name and her recorded in the dark vocals helped conjure up an almost Madonna and a drum machine meets Techno hybrid. This it was agreed could be a huge breakthrough single which - preceded by strategically released set up tracks - would build up Nexus 21’s surely inevitable rise to glory. And the release of the MIND MACHINES album. But it never happened. Instead one day Mark and Chris burst into Network’s Birmingham office excitedly brandishing no less than 8 new recordings infused with a propulsive Rave energy flash compared to their more cerebral Nexus 21 work. The label agreed that the new tracks should be released under a new artist name and an initial suggestion. Alien 8 replaced by Altern 8. What was planned as temporary dalliance became a long term relationship. You all know the score - Altern 8 became surf riders supreme on the rave tsunami, not just music makers but myth creators. The plan has been to run Nexus 21 and Altern 8 parallel, a kind of schizophrenic experiment by two men, a drum machine and a mad for it record company. History shows that Altern 8 became too DOMIN 8 and the lovingly recorded Nexus 21 album was left on the proverbial shelf (actually a box in Birmingham)

So now MIND MACHINES finally meets the World. First thing that screams out that it hasn’t half aged well. Obviously it is a wet dream for the anoraks of electronica, that goes without saying. But above and beyond the history lesson of how 2 young UK techno mad kids got the dots from Detroit and deconstructed them to create something very British the music they created, sometimes naive but frequently knowledgeable, sounds .. well just great.

The four Detroit recordings - NEXODUS, TOGETHER, DON’T DO IT LIKE THAT, DO IT LIKE THIS and EVERYTHING (NO STATUES) - variously feature contributions from Motor City luminaries Marc Kinchen and Anthony Shakir.

Only two of the twelve recordings were properly released in 1990/1991 with two more making it on a withdrawn white label 12 inch at the time. Three of the tracks, including a live recording at London’s Brain Club that has been retrieved from a DAT that was thought to have disappeared, are previously unreleased. And as well as two previously unreleased much altered versions of Nexus 21 gems there is the legendary much tougher mix of the duo’s signature techno treasure Self Hypnosis.

NEXUS 21

LOST AND NOW FOUND

NOTON is pleased to announce the release of Xerrox Vol. 5, the final installment of Alva Noto’s Xerrox series.

For anyone who has been following the series since its inception in 2007, the concept of Xerrox no longer requires introduction. Originally, it aimed to create copies of images—both visual and acoustic—that are more memorable than the originals. The exploration of the relationship between the original and the copy, along with the invention of the copier, not only inspired the series name but also informed its underlying concept. In 2024, this series comes to an end, marking the culmination of a journey that began with the first recording in 2005/2006. Over nearly two decades, the five albums in this series have accompanied the artist's evolving perspective and conceptual approach.

Initially characterized by rawness and a conceptual focus on seeking resolution in white noise, the later works engage with themes of dissolution while shifting their emphasis toward acoustic particles. The copying process is now less visible through software manipulation; rather, it unfolds as the artist describes melodic and acoustic images that are then manipulated, copied, and transformed into new patterns during composition.

Nicolai describes this evolution as a journey encompassing buildup, exploration, and resolution, drawing parallels to the Odyssey and the stories of Jules Verne, particularly those featuring Captain Nemo.

The conclusion of this album holds a sense of finality for the artist. “I aimed to create a whole cycle of tracks that frame both the beginning and the end,” Nicolai explains. “The motif of the journey continues, but this time, the story reaches a dissolution through a conceptual object that embarks on its own journey into infinity. The word “dissolution” (“Auflösung” in German) is a wonderful concept. On one hand, you can solve a riddle, on the other hand, a pill can completely dissolve in water. Here, I am deliberately describing the process of dissolution.”
In crafting Volume 5, Nicolai has evolved his compositional process, eschewing samples in favor of original melodies. “This album probably took the longest to complete,” he reveals. “I first created melodic sketches, which became the foundation for the pieces. These recordings are created entirely from scratch. Based on these sketches, I constructed the process of copying, manipulating, and reshaping.”

Drawing from his recent experiences working with film and larger ensembles, Nicolai's approach to composition reflects a growing influence of classical instrumentation. “This experience of working with acoustic classical instruments has flowed into the compositional process for Xerrox Vol. 5. Certain instruments are designed with potential orchestral translation in mind.”

The sonic atmosphere of Xerrox Vol. 5 is one of profound dissolution. “I wasn’t initially interested in strong, emotional melodic aspects,” Nicolai shares, “but I realized that the fragment plays a central role.” This shift leads to an emotionally charged experience, imbued with melancholy and the bittersweet essence of farewell. The passing of Ryuichi Sakamoto, an admirer of the series, has further deepened the album’s emotional resonance.

“Xerrox Vol. 5 has a lot to do with farewell,” the artist explains. "Not only the farewell to the series itself, which I’ve nurtured for almost two decades, but also there have been many farewells to people who were close to me. I believe these people are recognizable in the music. It’s a very emotional, personal album.”

Listeners can expect a visual dimension to the music, though Nicolai intentionally leaves this open to interpretation. “I prefer to allow the music to evoke personal experiences and images rather than dictate a specific narrative,” he states. The result is a layered listening experience that invites tenderness and introspection.

in the middle of it we instantiate false aralia: a series of recordings growing in all directions, cataloging the work of a group of north american collaborators centered around the studio practices of izaak schlossman (of aught, s transporter, loveshadow etc.) and facilitated by brian foote (of peak oil, kranky, etc.). with this outlet we hope to provide useful tools for dance and avenues for intentional listening.

the first release, ‘zero key’, explores valences of an idea as it slips, as would a thought or a cloud, into something else entirely across its four tracks of recursive microhouse rhythms and hallucinated dub spatializations. foregrounding its most melodic state, its most percussive, and two points between, the versions cut an indeterminate and continuous process into discrete objects that invite repurposing, layering, and other nonlinear methods of evaluation. played through, it may be interpreted as an emerging, or a coming-to-light, as a soft vocal figure develops a tougher rhythmic architecture that eventually occludes its prior form entirely. each of zero key’s facets spurs a parallel investigation into its internal logic of patterning and form.

The second 7” introduces to the world The Mighty Gravillons, an obscure vocal trio bringing us right back to the golden days of roots reggae. With powerful and thought-provoking lyrics, ‘Crumbling World’ is a desperate cry to the world we’re building for the next generations. How can we leave such a world of wars, political conflicts and environmental crisis to our kids? The B side shines by it’s simplicity: The 18th Parallel invited one of their favourite musicians of today’s reggae scene to blow his spellbinding saxophone, Anant Pradhan. The legacy of Tommy McCook, Roland Alphonso or Cedric Brooks has found its worthy embodiment. New York saxophonist graces us with ‘Peace Treaty’.

ZentaSkai unveils stunning, high-concept house album on Mask Records.


ZentaSkai undertook a period of research into the underlying structure and organisation of the human brain before writing ‘The Architecture Of The Mind’. The Berlin-based artist then took what had been learned and kept it in mind when writing the music that marks Mask's first album release. It comes with extensive background notes on each track, and an operational manual of sorts - notes from the artists as to the effects each piece will have on those who hear them.
"The message conveyed by this album is that life itself is filled with music, but our egos often prevent us from being in harmony with this symphony. Inner chaos and silence can be challenging to bear, leading us to seek solace in external noise. We have constructed a barrier between our inner and outer worlds, causing us to lose touch with the rhythm of harmony. However, by embracing the illusion of separation and dancing to good music, we can rediscover harmony with ourselves and our environment. To fully experience the essence of the album, it should be played loudly on a proper sound system or high-quality headphones. By immersing themselves in the music, individuals can engage with its transformative power and potentially find a deeper connection with their own minds and surroundings." - ZentaSkai.

The gorgeous 'Mind Mapping' opens up with deep and dubby drums and lush harmonies that soothe you to your core, '030' then has more raw, heavy drums with many layers of glowing synths, glassy melodies and organic found sounds. 'Fügung' keeps the deep and introspective moods coming before the crisp tech of 'Flow Dreaming' ups the ante with more drive and layers of vocal whispers, hi-hats and smeared dub chords.


Elsewhere the likes of 'Quiet Reflection' lean into the groove with swirling pads and one-word vocal sounds drifting through the air over propulsive drum loops, and 'Boiling Range' suspends you in deft synth loops amongst the stars over a prickly house beat.
The superb synth craft and well-designed grooves continue through the dusty deep house of 'Karl-Marx-Allee' and minimal dub of 'Dynamic System' before the elegant melodic techno of 'Apeiron' and dreamy synthscapes of 'Parallel 30' close the album in a reflective fashion.


This is a deeply evocative album with a fully realised concept that is as thought-provoking as it is immersive.

This July the esteemed scribe, proper DJ, and discreetly deft twiddler Bill Brewster, drops the latest instalment in his ‘After Dark’ series, for Late Night Tales.

A throbbing, louche and leisurely affair, groove is very much at the heart of this freestyle selection, a vibe which Bill de- scribes as “a basement, a red light and a sound system. Or, as the Beastie’s once rapped, slow and low, that is the tempo”.

There’s Hawaiian drum machine bossa balearica from Island Band, percussive afro post punk from Czech jazz singer Jana Koubkova, and breathy-bubbling-dubwise-slap-bass-soul from Debbe& The Code.

There’s also sultry deep house mood music from Lanowa, infectious bouncy jazz funk breaks from Canada High, and Nail’s life affirming re-edit of singer songwriter Gilbert O Sullivan’s electro pop gem ‘So What’.

Bill’s own studio skills are present and correct too, featuring an undulating bassy version of country troubadour Jeb Loy Nichols, reworked along Alex Tepper under their Hotel Motel moniker, and a chugged-up squelchy disco take on Khruang- bin, this time paired with Raj Gupta, as Mang Dynasty.

Chock full of exclusives, tracks are either completely brand new, or available digitally for the first time, whilst others are wallet-rinsing rarities if purchased elsewhere. Whichever way you slice it though, every tune is a highlight, working equally well as standalone nuggets, or within Bill’s fluidly cohesive mix.

Whether he’s taking the roof off a club with his unique selec- tion of deep and tough house music, enchanting a backroom with a genre-bending set of disco, Balearic, rock and hip hop or playing chillout music in a bay in Croatia, Bill Brewster is the man for all occasions.

In a former life, Bill was a punk rocker, a chef and also the co-editor of football magazine When Saturday Comes but has been a record nerd all of his life. He began DJing in the 1980s, but came into his own in the early 1990s, particularly during a two-year stint in New York running DMC’s office, where nights at the Sound Factory and hanging out with Danny Tenaglia gave him the musical grounding you can still hear in his music today.

Bill was also one of the founding residents at Fabric in London, a position he held for five years. There are few still playing regularly today that have his dedication, eclecticism and encyclopedic knowledge of music.

His parallel life is as a writer, and with his long-term part- ner-in-crime Frank Broughton, they have written four books together, including the acclaimed ‘Last Night A DJ Saved My Life’ (latest edition published last July), ‘How To DJ (Prop- erly)’ and ‘The Record Players’.

He has been working in the industry’s fringes for over 40 years including the running of various labels from Twisted UK and Forensic in the ’90s to Disco Sucks and Anorak in the noughties.

He is one of NTS radio’s new residents for 2023 and his ‘Low Life Loves You’ show is available on the first Tuesday of every month.

One of my first record releases was on Traum Schallplatten in 2007. I was living in Berlin and Traum was at its peak launching acts like Extrawelt, Dominik Eulberg, Gabriel Anada, Minilogue, Fairmont… The era of melodic minimal…

The release of Luftlust hit the big DJ's like Sven Väth etc. And I was truly overwhelmed by the support. But the version on the 12" was actually pitched up 5 BPM. And in the end the mastering was not in my personal preference. Watering my feel of it, once or twice a year people actually ask me to do a remaster. Over the years it has been a track circulating the web and playlists, haunting me.

Last year I dug in the past and actually wrote a masters exam in philosophy about being a youngster in the techno scene and how to keep up creativity while working with record labels. Somewhere in that process I decided to face the old ghost and make it happen. Time was ready for the re-release of Luftlust, on my terms on my own label Kranglan Broadcast.

Justus Köhncke Remix
For a time frame of a decade I have asked Kompakt veteran and Whirlpool Productions legend Justus Köhncke to do a remix on my Kranglan imprint. Herr Köhncke to me (and to everyone who has followed Kompakt) is one of a kind! A punk soul, dead serious while smiling, always putting hooks and fragments out of music history on Kompakt sound plates with precise grace… The last years he have replied he's been busy in the studio with Can member Irmin Schmidt, working on soundtracks but... suddenly one day when I wrote the man he said "I love Luftlust, send me the stems".

Listening to Justus interpretation I was blown away… like riding a cabrio through the German landscape of fields and deciduous forests a sunny day in late May! And wait for that outro bridge at 5:56! Like being hugged by the warm mother autumn.

Özgur Can Remix
Anjuna Deep cofounder Özgur Can and I have known each other since high school. Özgur was the first DJ I ever booked to one of my early raves in the forests of Nacka. From releasing our first records with our common buddy Petter on Peter Van Halls label 'Deep' we have walked a parallel path in life, Özgur with a wider span of releases and 100's of nights at sweaty dance floors. No one does the deep driven heartfull arpeggios like Özgur. They swell and they swirl. A true Music lover and true talent!

Lust
Time has flewn since 2007, and that winter break in Barcelona 2006 hanging out with James Holden and the Border gang at Razmataz… the weekend when I actually started working on Luftlust…

Working on a re-release of Luftlust I just got hit by lust to work a version of it from the position where I am at, the 2021 me. I went with lust and it just happened a late summer night in Stockholm being by myself for a brief moment doing what I love the most, making music.

Luftlust Original 120BPM Version
And at last the never released original version of the title track. Correct tempo as it was written. Mastered by Andreas Lubich aka Lupo, the very person to master this type of music if you take a brief glimpse at his back folder! Finally!

I love this project, and I love making it happen at Kranglan Broadcast. Bringing together thoughts and people you have thought of bringing together for a long time. Lust KLN014 is here.

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025

KALEIDOBOLT’s fifth album is pungent to the ears – KARAKUCHI out in March Karakuchi is one record you can judge by its cover. The first time Kaleidobolt’s faces have adorned an LP, they have been fused into a torpedoing biomechanical vehicle. Echoing The Birthday Party’s Junkyard or Motörhead’s Orgasmatron (…on acid?!), the illustration epitomises perfectly Kaleidobolt’s agenda of “hyperkinetic rock”. Their feverish, psych-prog sound is full of motion. It jerks around at different speeds, threatening to spin out of control and crash into flames at any given moment. What’s more, it isn’t taken too seriously. This is heavy and intricate music, yes. But as bassist and co-singer Marco Menestrina puts it, the Kaleidobolt attitude is “an ugly smirk more than an angry face with a fist.” On their fifth album since forming in 2014, the Helsinki-based outfit lean into their strengths as a formidable power trio. With their previous two records, 2019’s Bitter and 2022’s This One Simple Trick, they had thrown everything at their disposal into the recording with no expense spared on overdubs, effects and kitchen sinks. Produced again by Niko Lehdontie (Oranssi Pazuzu), Karakuchi comes from tightly rehearsed, live-in-the-studio takes. Kaleidobolt realise that greater sparsity can be a strength, and they’ve allowed their instruments extra space to breathe. It makes for their earthiest, purest and perhaps most authentic record to date. Karakuchi’s exuberant style emerges from the individual members’ contrasting listening habits. These span classic prog, Japanese city pop, noise rock, post-hardcore and historical podcasts. One record they can all agree is a masterpiece, the centre of the Venn diagram where all three members meet, is King Crimson’s Red. As for their new album’s title, that’s as suitable as the cover art. “Karakuchi” is the slogan of the Japanese beer brand Asahi Super Dry. Translated literally, this means “pungent to the mouth”. As drinkers of that product, Kaleidobolt acknowledge its parallels to their songs. “It’s very intense, right at the front, like at the first bite,” explains Menestrina. “And then it leaves your mouth feeling refreshed. The flavour doesn’t linger in your mouth, basically. It has a quick, hard finish. With a bit of a stretch, we thought that that could also be said of our music.” Karakuchi is Kaleidobolt at their hardest, fastest, tightest and super-driest. Pungent to the ears. -JR Moores, November 2025

Written during a period of geographic and artistic transition, Country Music traces Severin Black’s movement from London to Berlin, unfolding through cycles of isolation and adaptation. Composed on the city’s periphery, the album’s material was continually dismantled and reassembled, reflecting a process of both artistic and personal reconstruction. The album marks a shift in production methodology, moving away from the immediacy of summed live takes toward a more deliberate, stratified multitrack approach. Sparse yet hypnotic, the record distills layers of sound formed by constant relocation, recurrent solitude, and a recalibration of instinct. In many ways, it echoes the experience of exile, not in a political sense but in the quieter, more insidious form of displacement that alters one’s perception of time and self. The music drifts between structure and dissolution, a reflection of existing at the threshold of different spaces—both physically and sonically.

The shedding of the previously used Nape moniker signaled a decisive sonic transformation, informed by extended time spent in the Pyrenees and a renewed engagement with folkloric material. Severin began playing the clarinet while making this record, and though its presence is minimal, it reveals itself as an interest in acoustic simulation, particularly the digital approximations of classical instruments that emerged within 1990s synthesizer technology. This interrogation of authenticity and mediation parallels the album’s thematic engagement with memory, where recollection functions not as a retrieval of fixed experience but as an iterative process of distortion and reconstruction. The relocation to Berlin reignited an affinity for grime music, evident in the syncopated brass of Pilgrim Wine and the fractured vocal layers of March, while memories of childhood in rural Wales permeate the record’s atmospheric spaces. The album includes contributions from longtime collaborator Vanessa Bedoret and Berlin-based artist Pavel Milyakov (Buttechno).

Country Music situates itself within an unresolved dialogue—between past and speculative futures, between folk lineage and digital fragmentation, between place and its embodied and sonic traces. What emerges is not a fixed statement but a process, an ongoing negotiation between what is left behind and what is brought forward. Words by Chantal Michelle

Mastered by Owen Pratt / Design by Severin Black / Center label image by Nicky Kidd / Back cover text by Alya Kanıbelli

It's been 10 years since Pomegranates - Nicolás Jaar's unofficial/alternative soundtrack to Sergei Parajanov's 1969 film The Color of Pomegranates - was first released, and to highlight this occasion we are reissuing the album on vinyl, with the first edition (a collaboration with the label Mana) having long been out of print.

Longer and slower-releasing than his other albums, Pomegranates often parallels the cinematic epic on which it’s based, with ideas pursued over long timelines and across dark landscapes, assembling elements and moods from the aesthetic and folkloric landscapes of Armenia. Jaar’s identity is perceived within this, folding in his heritage as Palestinian and Chilean as he attempts to build a musical architecture outwards that frames as much of the mess and sprawl of life as possible; using a language that investigates the movement and fluctuation of his own artistic career and character similarly to the film’s tracing of the coming of age of the young poet, Sayat-Nova.

At times, Pomegranates feels profoundly intimate, as though looking through the archive of a friend’s music and discovering the accent and common currency that lives within each of these tracks. Much of Jaar’s most elegant and touching melodic work is nestled here, its power residing in its simplicity and willingness to speak to the heart and not the mind of the listener.

In the text document included in the first freely distributed version of the album in 2015, Jaar writes that the album was conceived during a moment of change, and that the pomegranate became an icon that heralded that passage of time. The physical publication of Pomegranates closes one door whilst opening another, keeping promises and marking a significant point in the career of an artist who restlessly reinvents himself, with a document that illustrates a common language of lyricism, freedom, and emotional resonance linking his many paths and projects

The Sator Arepo, or Sator Square, is an ancient word puzzle comprising five palindromes that's etched on various historical sites throughout the Western world. Its origins are unknown, but the square has long been thought to hold magical properties, used as a charm against illness and evil, to cure insanity or to determine whether someone was guilty of witchcraft. Self-styled "punk ethnomusicologist", acoustician and musician Julien Hairon uses this mystical symbol as the starting point for his debut Judgitzu album in an attempt to reconnect with his Celtic heritage, exploring how its hallowed messages might harmonize with contemporary Tanzanian dance music.Hairon has been traveling across the world for over a decade, collecting field recordings from countries such as Indonesia, Australia, Cambodia, China and Bangladesh, and presenting them on his Les Cartes Postales Sonores label, re-issuing any curious cassettes and CDs he came across on the PetPets' TAPES imprint. It was during this time that he became fascinated by rituals that involved spirits, prompting him to examine his own ancestry when he returned to Brittany. "Many artifacts in the landscape remain," Hairon explains, "and the power of spirits is still palpable." He represents this Celtic mysticism on 'Sator Arepo' with murky drones and magickal synth tones, using xenharmonic scales (tuning outside of standard 12-tone equal temperament) that reach back to the ancient world. These sounds are augmented with fast-paced, sci-fi rhythms informed by his time in Tanzania; "Singeli has contaminated me," admits the producer.The most astonishing example of this is 'Miracle', a thrusting soundsystem experiment that layers serpentine, bagpipe-esque electronic wails over extravagant clusters of blocky percussion. Driven by the frenetic 175BPM pulse that echoes through the streets of Dar Es Salaam - popularized globally by forward-thinking producers like Sisso, Duke and Jay Mitta - Hairon opens up a rare conversation, seeking to draw parallels between today's most urgent dance forms and the archaic rituals of antiquity. On 'Vitalimetre', Hairon drives his sonic palette into the red, harmonizing with Dutch hardstyle and gabber, and splaying distorted drones over maddeningly blown-out kicks and ratcheting percussion. 'L'or Des Fous' takes a more meditative route, prioritizing Hairon's eccentric tonality with expressive sheets of pitch-warped sound that ghost walk across energized, rattling beats.If you heard Hairon's last Judgitzu release 'Umeme / Kelele', described by Boomkat as "one of 2019's deadliest dancefloor sessions," then you'll know how mindboggling this material can be. And with 'Sator Arepo', the French producer deepens his reach, grasping a world that we've almost forgotten and juxtaposing it with a landscape most of us barely comprehend.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

Though Toronto rockers Hot Garbage’s signature tinge of moody, heavy psychedelia remains present on Precious Dream, their forthcoming sophomore album careens at high speeds into a darker world of searing post-punk riffs, grappling with themes of dread, loss, the resilience of the human spirit and the highs and lows of solitude. From the onset, elegant yet brutalist sonic architectures provide the scenery for an escape route, while cryptic poetic spurts act as surreal signage. By the end of the journey, we are left with a strangely pleasant void, but also with an uncontrollable urge to backtrack into the outfit’s beautiful 36-minute musical trap. True to form, prolific producer Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck, No Joy, !!!, etc.) – with whom, Hot Garbage recorded their critically-acclaimed debut full-length, RIDE – does right by the band, masterfully harnessing the four-piece’s unique brand of rock & roll, setting in motion a parallel universe where phones are not what they seem, lobotomy has its merits, lower is actually better, and tunnels stretch the very fabric of spacetime. Fans of Sonic Youth, Frankie and the Witch Fingers or Joy Division should welcome a confused stroll down this romantic if dystopian opus, for a cathartic and tender sense of resolution awaits.

Ltd edition in transparent yellow vinyl!



The Mystery Lights 2nd outing on Daptone's rock subsidiary, Wick, sees them digging deeper into their cavern of influences, taking on tips from Suicide, The Kinks and Television as they look to build on their already party fuelled, raucous sound.

The Mystery Lights story begins in 2004 in the small town of Salinas California when friends Michael Brandon and Luis Alfonso -whose shared fondness for groups like The Mc5, Velvet Underground, Dead Moon, and The Fall (just to name a few) -decided to join forces and craft their own brand of unhinged rock and roll. From there they spent the better part of 10 years touring relentlessly before migrating to Queens, New York in 2014.

With a live show known for its raw, visceral energy and relentless assault –leaving little to no stoppage between songs –they barreled through countless NYC haunts and DIY venues, quickly amassing a fervent local following. The buzz soon caught the attention of Daptone Records execs who were in the beginning stages of launching a new rock-centric imprint, Wick Records. Impressed by the groups’ musicianship, groove, endless supply of energy, and understanding of musical history the Mystery Lights were quickly signed to Wick. Though a rock band at heart, the parallels to what Daptone Records had traditionally looked for in their Soul artists was undeniable. Soon sessions were booked with Producer/Engineer Wayne Gordon, and the release of their debut single “Too Many Girls” b/w “Too Tough to Bear” launched to mass critical fanfare.

Upon the release of their self-titled full-length on June 24th 2016 The Mystery Lights were quickly crowned “one of New York’s finest garage rock bands” by NME. Extensive touring, including multiple stops in Europe, Asia and Australia followed which found the group graduating from support slots at hole-in-the-wall clubs to headlining stages at major festivals worldwide.

After two years of break-neck, non-stop touring, the group settled back into Queens to prepare for their second full-length record, Too Much Tension(out May 2019). With Wayne Gordon in the producer’s chair and several intense writing sessions under their belt the group were back at Daptone’s House of Soul and ready to track. While keeping the hard-hitting approach of the first LP, Too Much Tension finds the group digging deeper into their well of eclectic influences, enriching their sound without echoing the past. Mixing the eerie, insistent synth sounds of groups like The Normal and Suicide, the energy and swagger of punk’s golden age, the pop sensibility of The Kinks, and the stark, deliberate execution of Television -The Mystery Lights are taking their idiosyncratic brand of rock and roll to dizzying new heights.

In the Andes of Peru, in a valley formed by the Huallaga River, lies the city of Huanuco. There, a little over fifty years ago, the emblematic cumbia band Los Darlings de Huánuco was born, and since then their compositions have gone around the world, bringing their homeland to the ears of music lovers and collectors. Adversities kept them away from music for two decades, but in spite of this, they marked a parallel path and created their own history in the maximum splendor of Peruvian cumbia. In a valley formed by the Huallaga River lies a temperate land located on the eastern slopes of the central Andes of Peru: Huánuco. A little more than seventy years ago, in that land of mountains and starry skies at almost 2,000 meters above sea level, Juan Nájera was born. A multifaceted musician by profession, he did not always have the privilege of being able to dedicate his life to music. For almost ten years he ran a family hardware store in Huánuco and then a mechanic shop on La Marina Avenue in Lima. He was also a truck driver. A decade of military dictatorships in Latin America made the artist's path very hard in the region, and Peru was no exception. Nájera was only nineteen when his first son was born. He had to make a living and the possibilities for entrepreneurship were slim. But if we go back in history, Juan Nájera was, first and foremost, a boy who dreamed of becoming a musician. Later, he was a boy who made it. Los Darlings de Huánuco managed to cross borders, not only in the capital of Peru, but also abroad. There are many collectors and music lovers around the world who seek and appreciate their songs, musical gems that have toured different latitudes and have managed to position this band from the Peruvian countryside in the most remote places on the planet. In a country characterized by its centralism, where opportunities in the countryside are much scarcer than in the capital, where the foreigner is greeted with more warmth than the local, and where getting ahead, especially in the musical field, implies an extraordinary effort, Los Darlings de Huánuco managed to take their sound to where they never thought it would be possible. From the Andes to the skyscrapers, from the heart of Huánuco to the immensity of other continents.

For their much anticipated second release 'Music From Memory' take you into the world of Italian musician Gigi Masin....TIP!
Part of only a small and very much underground music
scene in his hometown of Venice, Gigi Masin self released two modestly pressed LP's 'Wind' (1986) and 'Wind Collector' (1991) and appeared along side Charles Hayward for the Sub Rosa compilation LP "Les Nouvelles Musiques De Chambre Volume 2" (1988).

Having met with little commercial success in Italy at the time, Gigi Masin's solo albums remained for the most part totally unknown. His music has though in recent
years, and seemingly by pure word of mouth, developed almost something of a cult following.

Gigi Masin's uniquely intricate and at times deeply emotive compositions take the listener into a realm of contemplation, a spellbound mind state where time and space appear to dissolve. His sparse and hypnotic often loop-based compositions seem to draw parallels with Detroit Techno's earliest beginnings, all at once conjuring those same feelings of both melancholic longing and ecstatic joy.

Narciso has been running parallel to most of his contemporaries, staying close to the main lane but researching in his own distinctive way. He takes pride in "being free from limitations and conventions. To me, music doesn't follow fixed rules; it is a field for experimentation, where any sound can be transformed into something pleasing to the ear". Depending on what one considers "pleasing", this is a pretty challenging set of tracks. The artist never loses the balance, though, mindful of a certain "dance" context in which this music thrives, but it is also that same context that is being constantly twisted and reshaped into other forms. Some of those provide fresh ground for others to follow; some are of such individuality that no one else dares disturbance; some quickly return to a safer way of communication.

"Diferenciado" does communicate, but like words can be changed to sound different and still mean the same, such are music and sound with Narciso. It's not about alienation of the listener nor alienation of the self from the surrounding areas. "I believe music is present in everything around us." And if anyone can say her/his/their music "reflects vision, experience and perception", you know the end result is not often surprising or even that different from previous examples. Well, we stand by "Diferenciado" in its obvious distinctiveness, and if all the blurb so far may read like a nervous justification it's just because of the excitement in helping put this out into the world.

As a founding element of RS Produções, where Nuno Beats, DJ Lima, DJ Nulo and Farucox are also found, Narciso has been contributing to a spiritual and creative atmosphere that permeates the environs of Lisbon where that golden, inspired air has to fight for space with many kinds of instability. The beauty and drama of opening tracks "Ziu Ziu" and "Cabelinho" (this one with mate Farucox) should be able to touch any sensitive soul that appreciates the quirkiness often attached to pure expression. As in "Pipipi" too, for example, where melody and rhythm gently and moodily lead you into a brief but sudden interruption feeling like a change into another state of being. Do not shy away. Narciso steps up as himself, not as representative of whatever or whoever.

2025 cassette edition, originally released in 2023 on 2CD/digital.

Recordings + booklet of the unveiling of »Katharina AW«, a relational artwork by Joris Martens. The unveiling event took place at St. Catharine’s Church in Hoogstraten - a city in the northeast of Belgium - on two Saturdays in May 2021.

While beholding the artwork, a woven tapestry, you listen to organ music by Miaux. Outside the church, you hear the carillon gurgle with music by Lieven Martens and town carillonneur Luc Dockx, prolonging the event into the public space.

Joris Martens created »Katharina AW« for the city hall of Hoogstraten. The tapestry now serves as an informal conversation starter in the conference room. Joris Martens is a multi-disciplinary artist and works in the field where applied arts and fine arts meet.

Miaux played her own compositions on the church organ. The songs appeared on the albums Black Space White Cloud, Hideaway, Dive and Gigi - released by Ultra Eczema, Lal Lal Lal, and Alien Passengers - and were originally written for electronic keyboard. Mia demonstrates that the church organ, which is normally used as an underscore for sadness or compelling thoughts, is a fitting instrument of connection. Through its resonance, we communicate our sounds.

Lieven Martens invented sketches for the carillon—by loading bird sounds into the computer program Melodyne, varying them and converting them to musical notes. As a nod to the religion crazy Olivier Messiaen, who considered the birds to be God’s chosen singers and songstresses. The trifles were translated on the carillon by town carillonneur Luc Dockx. The playing comes into and out of focus. In this way, Lieven creates a dreamscape and breaks with the dreary carillon as an instrument of power.

Luc Dockx studied church music at the Lemmens Institute in Leuven and the carillon at the Royal Carillon School in Mechelen. He is the city carillonneur of Hoogstraten since 2002. Dockx is an active practitioner of the art of improvisation on the carillon.

Valuable vinyl reissue for this historic four-handed work by Gigi Masin and Giuseppe Caprioli. The concept of multitude combined with the figure/symbol of the labyrinth suggests orders of thought relating to the multiple states of being that inhabit the dark labyrinths of the soul, the hidden regions of the human psyche. All in Multitude In Labyrinth leads us to look for keys to understanding the ultimate meaning of a test as enigmatic as it is powerful. A congeries of paramusical phenomena in continuous evolution, expression of an internal feeling strongly concentrated on itself, disguised in the plastic flow of sound events that evolve on the gravitational maps of low-frequency drones, of the changing waveforms and of the elliptical-circular loops warped with scientific skill in the electronic workshop used for this purpose. A cinematic symphony in nine movements that direct the listening towards the frontiers of unexplored parallel worlds, ready to recreate the infinite maze of aural multitudes that materialize, dissolve and regenerate impulse after impulse for the duration of the work. Music whose remote echo makes us think of the harmony of the spheres that governs the mechanics of the cosmos and of being.

Southern-bred, alternative R&B singer-songwriter Mereba artistically embodies self-understanding on The Breeze Grew a Fire, her grandest work and first release on Secretly Canadian. To hone in on this latest album, it was necessary for Mereba to reconnect with her whole many-sided self, from her inner child to her inseparable relationships. Mereba peacefully transmutes her beginnings, looking upon her closest kinships and friendships with a keen understanding of their steadying, inspirational force. Surrounded by the gentle Breeze of these relationships and recollections, Mereba is empowered as both an artist and mother, while also being reminded to nurture her childlike wonder. Mereba gracefully shines on the follow-up to her bounteous 2019 debut, The Jungle Is the Only Way Out. In escaping the Jungle, Mereba faced the paradigm shift of birthing a son in 2021 and getting accustomed to a rapidly changing self-outlook. Mereba's creative output has always relied on her innermost reflections and ideas on whatever was happening around her; but in motherhood, the singer's perspective widened while her inspiration became more focused, and more individually powerful. "Even though I'm fully an adult, I had to grow up in a way overnight when he my son came," Mereba explains. "The process of watching him open up to the world, learn how to engage with the world, it is very tender. I feel like it's the most reminded I've ever been of when I was a child and the first memories I have of life." The transformation brought Mereba to the intimacy of DIY recording sessions, providing an honest and organic foundation to Breeze. Mereba tapped her longtime production collaborator Sam Hoffman to co-assemble the album's rich production, which parallels its folk-like warmth. Although Mereba is a true double Earth sign-Virgo and Virgo rising-the development of Breeze was anchored by experiences and memories that span from Atlanta to L.A., Addis Ababa to Greensboro, an intention that speaks to the album's fluid nature. While nowhere near the end of her musical trek, The Breeze Grew a Fire is a loving, inspiring return to origin, one where Mereba frees a painful past, eases into future possibilities, and goes with life's flow.

Southern-bred, alternative R&B singer-songwriter Mereba artistically embodies self-understanding on The Breeze Grew a Fire, her grandest work and first release on Secretly Canadian. To hone in on this latest album, it was necessary for Mereba to reconnect with her whole many-sided self, from her inner child to her inseparable relationships. Mereba peacefully transmutes her beginnings, looking upon her closest kinships and friendships with a keen understanding of their steadying, inspirational force. Surrounded by the gentle Breeze of these relationships and recollections, Mereba is empowered as both an artist and mother, while also being reminded to nurture her childlike wonder. Mereba gracefully shines on the follow-up to her bounteous 2019 debut, The Jungle Is the Only Way Out. In escaping the Jungle, Mereba faced the paradigm shift of birthing a son in 2021 and getting accustomed to a rapidly changing self-outlook. Mereba's creative output has always relied on her innermost reflections and ideas on whatever was happening around her; but in motherhood, the singer's perspective widened while her inspiration became more focused, and more individually powerful. "Even though I'm fully an adult, I had to grow up in a way overnight when he my son came," Mereba explains. "The process of watching him open up to the world, learn how to engage with the world, it is very tender. I feel like it's the most reminded I've ever been of when I was a child and the first memories I have of life." The transformation brought Mereba to the intimacy of DIY recording sessions, providing an honest and organic foundation to Breeze. Mereba tapped her longtime production collaborator Sam Hoffman to co-assemble the album's rich production, which parallels its folk-like warmth. Although Mereba is a true double Earth sign-Virgo and Virgo rising-the development of Breeze was anchored by experiences and memories that span from Atlanta to L.A., Addis Ababa to Greensboro, an intention that speaks to the album's fluid nature. While nowhere near the end of her musical trek, The Breeze Grew a Fire is a loving, inspiring return to origin, one where Mereba frees a painful past, eases into future possibilities, and goes with life's flow.

Miki Yui is a musician, artist, and composer, originally from Tokyo, who has been based in Düsseldorf since 1994. Her whose work has long explored multiple forms of media, while documenting liminal zones of perception. On her latest album, As If, Yui creates a subtly connected suite of electronic music, drawn from improvisations and randomised processes that she has engaged with modular synthesis. Deeply poetic in its expression, even at its most minimal, the six pieces on As If have a curious tenor – they are, each of them, intensely sensuous, almost haptic listening experiences, as though the laser focus that Yui displays towards her compositions allows her to engage them as almost physical presences in the world.

One of the keys that unlocks the intimate complexity-in-simplicity of As If was Yui’s encounters with the Amazonian rainforest in Manaus, Brazil in 2018. Finding that the sounds in the rainforest both shadowed and echoed the music she had been making for two decades, she embraced the possibilities of modular synthesis, the sounds of which she discovered “have astonishing similarities to the sounds I experienced in the rainforest.” There is, indeed, something natural about the way these sounds bloom in real time; in their dedicated focus to the subtle development and mutation of several discrete parameters of sound, they grow slowly, gradually, their rhizomic structures suggesting that we are always situated within the middle of sound.

Sometimes, the material here has a kind of febrile energy, as on the ticking, clacking electronics of “Generativ”, a track that seems to rotate in the air in front of the listener, the light reflecting off its multiple surfaces as we catch the intricacies of its micro-patterns. Elsewhere, we slide into a cooled but welcoming environment, like the late-night fire-fly horizon of “Song 4”; there’s also the humid, dripping tropical sunset that’s documented on “Summernight”. It’s a music that’s hard to locate external coordinates for, though there are, perhaps, some parallels with the work of Laurie Spiegel, Eliane Radigue’s Vice Versa, and Pauline Oliveros’s “Roots of the Moment”. But As If is an extraordinary collection of naturally developing, rich studies for slowly mutating, enveloping, elemental electronics.

Synth Sense have been in imperious form as of late. Following on from their Alien Transmissions release and the collaborative effort
with ASC, on Reject The System, Fragments From an Infinite Sequence sees them back in familiar territory; the unknown. As you'd
imagine from the titles, this is a vast collection of music that spans short of 30 mins, but explores infinite possibilities. Close your
eyes, open your ears, sit back and indulge in the world of Synth Sense.
Broken Parallels - Coming in at a second short of 15 mins, this track is a monster. A behemoth actually. This is pure futurism sculpted
into experimental electronic music. Dystopian backdrops set against a wash of cyberpunk influences which give way to abrasive
sounds and metallic percussion. Each listen reveals a new layer to take something in every time. A science fiction world of audio
waiting for your exploration.
You and Your Ghost - More darkness and perhaps more sinister than the A side. More abrasive percussion and deep dark science
fiction sounds set the scene. This is the musical equivalent to a heist on a space colony set in the 25th century.
Sphere Of Influence - Keeping with the dark sci-fi theme, Sphere Of Influence rounds up proceedings with its cinematic widescreen
expanse. Transmissions from undiscovered colonies intercepted by rogue governments.
Evocative and thought provoking mood music at its finest.
This EP further cements Diode's platform for releasing deep original music. A vague template for techno has been well and truly
flipped on its axis with this release. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

Thoughts of You, as a phrase, might immediately associate one with feelings of love, endearment, fantasy or even obsession. These are the very sentiments that lay as cornerstones in Salvator Dragatto's debut LP for Colemine Records. The allure and drama of black & white photography have always played a vital role in how Salvator (aka Joseph Reina) not only views the world but how he hears music. Parallels in film processing to his own recording methods started becoming more and more apparent as the record was being formed; Limitations in exposures rivaling limitations in tracks. Film grain and dust sediments rivaling tape hiss and dirty EQ pots. What most would consider to be imperfections, Dragatto leaned into and found inspiration. This record is an homage to the likes of Andre' Kerte'sz, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and Rene' Groebli, who's works have impacted Dragatto's world so greatly both visually and sonically. Thoughts of You is an unabashed reflection of the noir. From the powerful thematic horn lines to the gentlest string passages, this record is a collection of themes and vignettes that explore the emotions set upon by black and white imagery.

Thoughts of You, as a phrase, might immediately associate one with feelings of love, endearment, fantasy or even obsession. These are the very sentiments that lay as cornerstones in Salvator Dragatto's debut LP for Colemine Records. The allure and drama of black & white photography have always played a vital role in how Salvator (aka Joseph Reina) not only views the world but how he hears music. Parallels in film processing to his own recording methods started becoming more and more apparent as the record was being formed; Limitations in exposures rivaling limitations in tracks. Film grain and dust sediments rivaling tape hiss and dirty EQ pots. What most would consider to be imperfections, Dragatto leaned into and found inspiration. Opaque Natural Vinyl. This record is an homage to the likes of Andre' Kerte'sz, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and Rene' Groebli, who's works have impacted Dragatto's world so greatly both visually and sonically. Thoughts of You is an unabashed reflection of the noir. From the powerful thematic horn lines to the gentlest string passages, this record is a collection of themes and vignettes that explore the emotions set upon by black and white imagery.

For Fans Of... 60's and 70's French Noir Scene / Black and White film photography, The Rugged Nuggets, Dirty Art Club, Massive Attack, Misha Panfilov, The Ironsides, Doctor Bionic, Blockhead, DJ Shadow, Sven Wunder. First Salvator Dragatto full length LP to be released on Colemine. All members of The Rugged Nuggets (205k monthly listeners / 8.4k followers on Spotify) played on this LP. 60's French Noir Cinematic Soul. Produced by Joey Reina. This record is an homage to the likes of André Kertész, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and René Groebli. Artist has previously released three successful 45s. Thoughts of You, as a phrase, might immediately associate one with feelings of love, endearment, fantasy or even obsession. These are the very sentiments that lay as cornerstones in Salvator Dragatto’s debut LP for Colemine Records. The allure and drama of black & white photography have always played a vital role in how Salvator (aka Joseph Reina) not only views the world but how he hears music. Parallels in film processing to his own recording methods started becoming more and more apparent as the record was being formed; Limitations in exposures rivaling limitations in tracks. Film grain and dust sediments rivaling tape hiss and dirty EQ pots. What most would consider to be imperfections, Dragatto leaned into and found inspiration. This record is an homage to the likes of André Kertész, Robert Frank, Jean-Luc Godard and René Groebli, who’s works have impacted Dragatto’s world so greatly both visually and sonically. Thoughts of You is an unabashed reflection of the noir. From the powerful thematic horn lines to the gentlest string passages, this record is a collection of themes and vignettes that explore the emotions set upon by black and white imagery

Naoki Zushi. Perhaps best known for his stellar guitar contributions to psych folk group, Nagisa Ni Te, Zushi has had a parallel career, for several decades, slowly releasing solo albums that spotlight his exultant guitar playing. Originally released to CD only by Shinji Shibayama of Nagisa Ni Te’s Org imprint in 2018, IV has Zushi playing and writing at a peak, its six songs slowly unfurling with a kind of paradoxical understated grandeur. This is psychedelic guitar music at its most paced and considered, yet given to flights of inspiration, and in this respect, Zushi sits within a lineage of guitarists who’ve used their instrument both as textural anchor and improvisatory tool – think of figures like Phil Manzanera and Robert Fripp, but also Roy Montgomery, Liz Harris of Grouper, even Tom Verlaine on his instrumental solo albums. Like those artists, Zushi locates moments of deep emotional resonance amidst luxuriant textural and melodic exploration. Zushi’s history stretches back to the mid 1970s. While for many, he first appeared on the scene as a founding member of noise legends Hijokaidan, alongside Jojo Hiroshige, his musical contributions predate that encounter. He started out playing progressive rock and improvised music, making home recordings of when he was in high school. He was a member of Rasenkaidan (Spiral Staircase) alongside Hiroshige and Idiot (Kenichi Takayama), the group that soon mutated into Hijokaidan (Emergency Staircase). Zushi and Takayama would soon form Idiot O’Clock, in 1982; Zushi also led his own Naoki Zushi Unit, starting in 1983. But for many, Zushi’s first significant appearance on record was as a member of Shinji Shibayama’s mid-eighties psych-pop group, Hallelujahs, whose sole album was recently reissued on vinyl. That group mutated into Nagisa Ni Te, and Zushi has played a significant role as their lead guitarist for several decades. His own solo music has appeared sporadically – Paradise (1987), Phenomenal Luciferin (1998), III (2005) and IV, with a few recent, meditative offerings, For My Friends’ Sleep (2021) and Nocturnes (2022). With IV, though, Zushi achieved something remarkable, a kind of extended exploration of the time-altering properties of echoplexed, hypnotically spiralling guitar interplay. The opening ‘Mirror’, “a song about the mirror inside me,” Zushi explains, starts out as a lush psych-folk song, slow and gentle, but soon takes to the skies with a cat’s cradle of Fripp-esque guitars, before thick, droning chords sweep the song to a drowsy coda. ‘Nocturne’ weaves silver skeins of guitar melody around a cyclical chord pattern; it gathers energy and quiet intensity through insistent repetition. The rest of the album explores the nuance Zushi can draw out of simple elements, building on what ‘Mirror’ and ‘Nocturne’ offer – the profundity of a chord change; the melancholy of a few quietly sighed words; the exhilaration of a guitar solo bursting out of the speakers; the subtle shifts in emotional register offered by tone and touch. Throughout, there’s something quiet, yet ineffable, shading the contours of the songs, such that it makes perfect sense when Zushi says, “What I want to express through music may be ‘sense of mystery’.” A few of the songs had their basic parts recorded at LM Studio and Studio Nemu with Shibayama and Masako Takeda joining on bass and drums, respectively; much of the album, however, was tracked at Zushi’s home studio. That seems appropriate for a collection of songs that are expansive in their intimacy. Asked what drove the sessions, Zushi answers, “I thought I’d make IV an album that particularly focuses on the guitar play.” And focus it does, as Zushi’s sky-scraping, soaring, elemental tone is front and centre throughout. But these are no guitar heroics; rather, Zushi uses the guitar as conduit and diviner, a tool for spirit location, and IV is his most eloquent expression yet of such singular magic.

Matter-of-factly, Lycox exclaims "Yaaahh" right at the beginning. That's an affirmation but in times of distress it can also mean resignation, something like "Yeah, whatever". Lycox says he was only freestyling though. Then the bassline appears. Elastic, expressive, full-bodied. And it's not even present the whole time. He was "trying to develop a new formula for the Kuduro beat."

Songs for the club? Most certainly. Different sensibilities, one same focused mind. Lycox evolves within tradition, he has mastered the groove, the ambience, the right tones. Simply called "Energia", the last track circles above wistfully, menacing but maybe just promising some sort of action. With a few drops one could almost switch over to a parallel universe of old school Trance, a reference that feels as alien here as maybe this track feels to someone for whom the standard Afro House sound represents modern African music.

These songs pile up in a threshold balanced between styles, sensations, maybe in the middle of life itself. Such a concentration of energy is bound to need release and that comes figuratively through details in the music reaching out to receptive ears. "To Bem Loko" explicitly tries to "literally drive everyone crazy on the dancefloor." Once again Lycox provides vocals, as in "Edson no Uige", about a friend who embarked on a trip to the Angolan province of Uige and came back speaking only the local dialect known as lingala. A nod to tradition, very emotional, without compromising complex arrangements. Consequently, we the listeners are kept believing there is still enough space for a bright future. To ears accustomed to Lycox productions the title "Contemporaneo" (opening of side B) reads like a redundancy, then.

Maybe this music can never be quite as massive as other Afro styles. Without sounding pretentious, it avoids simplistic patterns, it demands a bit more mental processing while it certainly aims to loosen the limbs. Universal in vocation, underground at the core, Lycox definitely calls it Batida but for some it is still Ghetto Music. Like DJ Veiga said when describing a previous release for Príncipe, Ghetto is home, though. Lycox adds it is a foundation of personality. "Few in our community will recognize your work when you come from the same environment, but once you establish your reputation outside of the neighbourhood and even outside of the country, people will look at you differently, as if you were a star."

On August 16, Toronto-based musician and producer David Psutka aka ACT! (fka Egyptrixx / Anamai / Ceramic TL) will release his latest project ‘Face to Face, Day by Day’ for his own Halocline Trance imprint.

This is is Psutka’s third album proper as ACT! following the release of the “sonic mixtape” ‘Universalist’ in 2018 and the augmented reality soundtrack ‘Grey Matter AR’ in 2021; a series of Snapchat filters created by artist Karen Vanderborght and soundtracked by ACT! which explored the poetic and existential potential of AR and social media.

“Aesthetic accidents in the periphery of the ‘work’ can be the message. In 2018, at an Egyptrixx concert at Bagni Misteriosi de Teatro Franco Parenti - a gorgeous, sprawling outdoor pool theatre in Milan - I had a clarifying moment. Gigs around then had mostly been in pummelling, dark music venues, so I wasn't prepared for this expansive space (and the thoughtful work of the organisers who had layered sheets of plastic film on the pool to parallel eco-materialist themes from a previous album). It was the midday soundcheck that struck me most - brittle digital sounds from the set echoed off the colonial Milanese facades and ricocheted down the Via Carlo Botta, pinging off buildings in the distance and clashing with the noise of traffic, tourists and whatever else. It was a strange, collisionist moment, and a reminder that my essential approach to music is, above all, a preoccupation with the materiality of sound. 

Everything on Face to Face, Day by Day began as an improvisation. Openness to accidents and the emotional complexity that comes from centering them in composition has become important to my work, and helps the music go beyond the possibility of what is playable, imaginable. I also wanted to channel adventurous solo pop records of the 1970’s and 80’s, like Yasuaki Shimizu, Jon + Vangelis and Stevie Wonder. These came from an interesting era in commercial music as studio production techniques became increasingly formalised as compositional devices, like AMS RMX16 percussion sounds and early digital stereo effects. 

Like many musicians, I’ve been travelling and performing less since the pandemic and as a result, have wanted studio sessions to feel more collaborative and improvisational. There were great writing and recording sessions for this album. Vox, synth, sax and guitar jams - much of what ended up on the record isn’t edited much, if at all. I jammed a sm57 into Colin Fisher’s sax bell and created feedback loops using various preamps and distortion units. The clunky sounds were sampled and used as percussion elements. I also had a great synth jam session with Jeremy Greenspan at Barton Building Studio in Hamilton, which was recorded by filmmaker Liz Adler. 

I’ve had a few months to sit with this album and see clear throughlines connecting it to previous projects. There are aspects of the experiential and structuralist sound design ideas from the EGYPTRIXX records; and also some arrangement tricks borrowed from ANAMAI - specifically, the use of interruptionist sound events. Perhaps most of all, it feels connected to the Ceramic TL + Ipek Gorgun record ‘Perfect Lung’ and its splattered take on musical complexity. “ (David Psutka)

In addition to ACT!, Psutka has released music with numerous projects including Anamai, Egyptrixx and Ceramic TL, he has collaborated widely with artists such as Junior Boys, Ipek Gorgun, and Kuedo as well as Jessy Lanza (2016) and an official remix for Massive Attack’s ‘Hymn of the Big Wheel (2012). The contributions on this album, from Robin Dann and Ben Gunning, reflect the deeply collaborative nature of the Halocline Trance label and the Toronto creative scene more broadly.

Many of Psutka’s releases have received critical acclaim from media outlets such as Pitchfork, Exclaim, The Quietus and Resident Advisor. As a live performer, he has toured extensively including performing at Sonar Festival, Roskilde, Mutek, MOMA PS1 Warm-UP and CTM Festival. He’s also presented sound installations at various institutions such as Galeria Civica Commune di Modena, and Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO).

In 2015, Psutka launched Halocline Trance as a home for his various sound projects, events and collaborations. Now a creative collective and label, it has grown to include a diverse array of artists including Casey MQ, Xuan Ye, Myst Milano, Colin Fisher and others. The label is described as “genre-agnostic” and conceptually open, supporting work across a wide spectrum of creative fields including soundtrack recording, AR design and traditional artist albums. Their impeccable roster also includes, theorist/improviser Eldritch Priest, and AR/VR artist Karen Vanderborght. In recent years, Halocline Trance has established itself as a platform that facilitates many of Canada’s most exciting creative music projects. Many of the releases have received critical acclaim from outlets including Pitchfork, Exclaim, Bandcamp and Resident Advisor.

Coming out on September 6th on Sharptone Records, Sundiver is Boston Manor’s fifth album and one that represents a glimmering dawn for the Blackpool five-piece. Grown from a seedbed of optimism and sobriety, the LP celebrates new beginnings, second chances and rebirth. With two members recently stepping into fatherhood, hope is baked into every note. “Datura came out of these really dark few years over the hangover of the pandemic,” Henry reflects. “I'd been struggling a lot with drinking and not taking care of myself and bad mental health and stuff. We wanted Sundiver to be the next morning of the following day.” He explains that it feels good this time round to write through the lens of positivity. “The themes began to emerge, of rebirth, spring, dawn, sunshine and then other elements just started to fit into that.” It was during the making of Sundiver that Henry found out he was going to be a dad. This album is a significant one for the band. Originally coming out of the emo and pop punk scene, they’ve explored sonics and genres throughout their career, taken risks and achieved more than they could ever had dreamed of. They’ve grown up as Boston Manor – their lives and the world changing around them. They’re now taking stock, at a crossroads of the band they were and the band they could be.
While writing the album, they revisited the bands that shaped them in the late 90s and early 00s. “I was listening to the music I loved when I was a teenager and I just thought, why don't we make music like our favourite bands?”, guitarist Mike Cuniff remembers with a smile. “So we brought our interests to the table that way. Y2K kind of vibe. There are elements of Deftones, there are elements of Portishead in there, some Garbage, The Cardigans.” He laughs and adds NSYNC to the list of inspirations. From this cocktail of classics comes a dynamic and ambitious record, rich with depth, groove and more hooks than Peter Pan’s nightmares. Lyrics that foxtrot from parallel universes to personal growth, vivid dreamscapes to raw grief. Individually they’re single strokes full of meaning and magic. Together they’re a landscape.
Container (out Feb 15th) is the first single and it’s them at their best – impassioned and infectious. “This song is about the stagnancy of life creeping up on you & how that can bring about change.,” Henry explains, citing Ocean Song by US band Daughters as an inspiration.

The concept of the butterfly effect is present on Sundiver – how small actions can lead to big changes. This is no clearer than on their second single, Sliding Doors (out April 5th). It has the golden sound of late 90s Lollapalooza rock – think Smashing Pumpkins - rebooted with crisp 2024 production and a potent heaviness. In the lyrics Henry wonders, what if?, pondering on what could be. The idea that there are infinite versions of you whose lives splinter off in different directions at every decision you make. That there’s another you out there somewhere right now reading this sentence, and another me writing it. “So much is down to chance and circumstance,” Henry says. “You might catch that train and your life totally changes. Or you might miss it and things stay the way they are.”
Heat Me Up (out May 30th) is defiant and victorious, the audio equivalent of quitting your shit job and driving into the hot summer sun with a head full of dreams. “The lyrics are about love and gratitude,” Henry shares. “Another theme on the record is just appreciating what you have. It’s about not taking for granted the things that you've been afforded.”
There was some natural magic in the creation of Sundiver. They worked with their usual producer, Larry Hibbitt, and engineer, Alex O’Donovan, but instead of recording in London again they ended up in the green pastures of Welwyn Garden City. “Because Larry lives out in the countryside now, it was a way different environment and way different experience recording this time,” Mike remembers. “That contributed a lot to the brighter sound of the record.” The daily barbecues they had during their recording sessions imbued the process with harmony – five old friends spending quality time together and making quality music.
However, the album is by no means one-note. Birthing this new world they’ve created wasn’t without it’s pain, and that can be heard in the heavier moments on Sundiver. What Is Taken Will Never Be Lost is the most-stripped back on the album, a slow rock number seasoned with the downtempo Portishead influence. The heartfelt lyrics are Henry’s way of processing the loss of his grandfather, who died in a hospice last year(?). “It was just fucking horrible. It was always cold when I went there and they were always trying to get rid of me. The song title, What Was Taken Can Ever Be Lost, is the idea of his memory fading at the time because of dementia.” Henry goes onto explain that shoeboxes of photographs, diaries and a legacy is what he’s left behind. “He lived a really rich life and it has really impacted me and my father. His legacy is etched into the fabric of history in a very small way.” This song continues the connection between his grandfather and the band, as his painted face is emblazoned on the cover of the very first Boston Manor EP, Driftwood. As well as emotionally heavy themes, there’s heaviness in the music of Sundiver too. The closing song, Oil In My Blood, descends into an intense shoegaze outro with Debbie Gough from Heriot screaming hellfire. It’s in moments like this that the band show us aggression and fury can be as much a part of positive change as quiet introspection. The last lyrics of the song, “It resets and starts again,” leaves us in contemplation as the final chord rings out.
Touring the US, Europe and Japan over the years makes for an impressive CV, but if you know anything about Boston Manor you’ll know that they’re all about their hometown. Their choice to work with Blackpool-based photographer Nick Barkworth is testament to that. They’ve been working with him since the pandemic. “He captures Blackpool in a light that really reflects the weirdness and quirkiness of the town,” Henry says.” He's got a really good way of presenting that.” For the Sundiver cover, Nick photographed a 30ft tall abstract glass sculpture made by the local artist John Ditchfield. A striking and bewitching monolith that’s familiar to them but unusual to most people. “It has such kind of a gravity and power to it,” Henry describes the sculpture which stands in a field just outside of the seaside town. “It reminds me of either an explosion or a star or a supernova. To me it represents new life, power and radiance.” Boston Manor have got a knack for that - connecting the otherworldly and the everyday, the stars and the streets.
They’re a band known for using their music to make bigger statements about society. This time round they’re harnessing the uplifting power of music, and the communion it creates, as an antidote to the daily doom and isolation. “It seems like absolute chaos out there at the moment,” Henry says. “You’ve got Gaza and Israel, you've got Russia, you've got the fact that 40% of the world is going to have an election this year and increasingly most governments are leaning very far to the Right. The internet is dividing everybody, people are getting poorer and more desperate. It's really, really scary.” They considered trying to tackle the weight of it all in their music. “We could’ve written Welcome to the Neighbourhood on steroids, where it's just absolute darkness and misery”. He’s referring to their 2018 concept album that deals with class, inequality and the bleaker side of Blackpool. “But I think it's really important to write something that people can be immersed in and find some sort of solace in. Somewhere they can escape to from the modern day pressures and everything that’s going on. We’re all in this together.”