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Group Rhoda is the solo electronic music project of Mara Barenbaum, based out of Oakland, California. The project started around 2009 with a debut album 'Out of Time, Out of Touch' in 2012 on Night School Records and '12th House' in 2013 on Not Not Fun. She is also one half of Max and Mara who released the album 'Less Ness' in 2013 on Dark Entries Records. She is committed to live performance, situated within the analog synthesizer and drum machine medium.

'Wilderless' is Group Rhoda's third full length and first for Dark Entries Records. Each of the these 7 songs draw forth tones of tropical darkwave and soft industrial, while negating the sound of conformity and control. The album explore themes of societal and spiritual displacement, contemporary serfdom, the depths of empathy, regeneration through destruction, and the tyranny of claiming recognition and power. Lyrics are poetically expressed through allegory and explore archetypes rooted more in abstract observation rather than hard line experience. Through transgression and imagination, Group Rhoda explores the arc of songwriting interwoven into stark electronic environments, and creates a bridge between the corporeal and the dream worlds.

Each song was mixed by Mark Pistel at Room 5 in San Francisco and mastered by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. Each LP is packaged in a jacket featuring a colorful custom made collage by Hugo Barros and includes a full color sticker and digital download card.

finally repressed !

After a lengthy break Mark Henning returns with his new label Swing and four on-point tracks. 'Stash House' kicks things off with a crisply produced groove with snatched male vocals and rounded bass keeping the swing high. 'Exit Acid' ups the energy levels with an acidic tinged b-line proving a grimier feel whilst flip side's 'James Hughes Blues' is all about the breakdown; a neat synth line and huge bass tones lending it a more anthemic edge. Lastly 'The Horror' opts for a lower key ride, fuller male vocal imbuing the track with a sleazier feeling.

Cellaa Music are very happy to welcome our great friend Marc Faenger and Label Head Sven Jaeger back to the fold. This one - obviously called B2B Volume 1 features two artists, two universes, two different ways to approach the music theory to form a B2B Cellaa relationship.

Young, skilled and supremely talented, Marc Faenger, is an artist set for great things on the international scene. Marc´s - Nip' contains an infectious groove an elegant labyrinth of percussive dub textures and sinusoidal tones and fast shuffling hats. Deep, fresh and seductively satisfying, this tune was designed for the discerning dancefloor.

Sven Jaeger returns to Cellaa Music with his second release for his label. - Get The Fuck' is a track that immediately commands attention with it's rolling, rich bassline surrounded by punchy, organic drums that delivers a soothing atmosphere. The track is really powerful and works really well on all dance-floors. People love it!'

The first of the remixes comes from the in form, Reelow. His releases have been huge hits, ruling the DJ charts. Here he strips the oringinal of Marc Faenger to it's essential parts. The super dry kickdrum and percussion in combination with the deep subs together create Reelow´s own techno vision.

Next we have Dan Noel providing a soulful tech house surrogate to the original of Mr. Jaeger. His remix has a deeper twist with glittering sounds and a concrete percussive arrangement to convey a fantastic Remix.

Tooloop Records celebrates its tenth release with "Orbis EP", a four-tracker from label affiliate Stab9. The record captures a moment of evolution in both Stab9’s sound and the label’s sonic identity, reflecting a broader vision of the Tooloop universe through expanded arrangements, deeper exploration and a more immersive presentation.

Opening the EP, ‘Source’ establishes its atmosphere through a constantly evolving arrangement, moving through several distinct phases while maintaining a sense of fluid progression. Carefully shifting textures, unexpected bass changes and subtle variations in dynamics reveal new details with each turn. Title track ‘Orbis’ shifts the EP towards warmer tones, built around classic house-inspired sounds, melancholic pads and polyrhythmic bass movement. Its rolling low-end and intricate percussion subtly tilt the track towards techno territory, reflecting the circular motion suggested by the track’s title. ‘Beastro’ gradually ascends through a restrained growling bassline and fractured hi-hats, dropping into an engine-cut moment in the middle of the track - a brief suspension before the groove returns, pulling the track back into motion. ‘True Story’ unfolds through a walking bassline, intricate hi-hats and smeared percussion, creating a sense of movement through a world of morphing textures and atmospheres. Its restrained melody embraces the idea of “less is more”, closing the EP with the bittersweet beauty of mono no aware.

With "Orbis EP", Stab9 presents a deeply personal approach to electronic music, where detailed studio craftsmanship meets the physical energy of the dancefloor - the label completing one full turn, and opening the next.

The second debut release by Fumio Karashima, who emerged in the jazz scene with his first leader album "Piranha" on WHYNOT. This popular piano trio work is known for its sophisticated, lyrical touch and outstanding jacket design. Series supervised by Koki Hanawa.

»Baby Ghost« is the debut album by double bassist and vocalist Jordan Sand. Released through Hallow Ground, it blurs the lines between different genres and modes of expressions, improvisation and composition and showcases the unique playing style the composer has developed. Sand blends her voice with the bowed harmonics and subharmonics of her double bass. At once conceptually rigorous and musically open-ended, Sand’s wordless meditations on death and what comes after are both visceral and explorative.

Sand is a boundary-crossing instrumentalist, performer, and session musician who has worked in folk, free jazz, pop, classical and new as well as experimental music. In 2020, she took a hiatus. When she picked up the bass again, she began stripping down the relationship to her instrument to its core elements, searching for a way to melt the sounds of bow and voice together. This resulted in the appearance of ghost notes, tones emerging from the addition or subtraction of two frequencies, and harmonics that she adds with her falsetto.

On »Baby Ghost,« Sand utilises this acoustic sound and the spontaneous precision of her improvisational practice for pieces that deal with the subject of dying. They move from more polyphonic improvisations toward abstraction, touching upon harsh noise and minimalistic bow-chants before returning briefly to a melodic soliloquy, and finally landing on an extended subharmonic drone. This progression reflects the journey of the spirit after death; the experience of visions, memories, ecstasies and terrors before the dissolution of the self.

Sand performs this process physically, blending her voice with her instrument to explore how the senses might dissolve and merge when they enter a state between life and beyond-or-between-life. Born out of the moment and dedicated to a lost friend, »Baby Ghost« is quite literally an otherworldly achievement.

Phill Niblock completed BLK+LND in late November 2023. It is one of Phill Niblock's final compositions and was commissioned by bassist Robert Black (who passed away in the summer of 2023). The piece is based on recordings of acoustic bass and bass clarinet performed by Neil Leonard and Robert Black under Niblock's direction in 2021.

Phill Niblock (1933-2024) as an artist whose fifty-year career spanned minimalist and experimental music, film and photography. He has been a maverick presence on the fringes of the avant-garde. In the history books he is the forgotten Minimalist. Since 1985, he served as director of Experimental Intermedia, a foundation for avant-garde music based in New York with a branch in Ghent, and curator of the foundation's record label XI. Known for his thick, loud drones of music, his signature sound is filled with microtones of instrumental timbres that generate many other tones in the performance space. He said: 'What I am doing with my music is to produce something without rhythm or melody, by using many microtones that cause movements very, very slowly.' In 2013, his diverse artistic career was the subject of a retrospective realized in partnership between Circuit (Centre d'art contemporain Lausanne) and Musée de l'Elysée (Paris). The following year he was honored with the prestigious Foundation for Contemporary Arts John Cage Award. Since 1968 he also put on over 1000 concerts in his loft space in New York.

"On January 6, 2024, two days before his passing, Phill called me to discuss the premiere and tour of BLK+LND. To distract him from his rapid decline, I engaged in his touring plan, only for him to reveal that all the details were still in his head and none of the events had been confirmed. He was entrusting the project to me. Phill would have been thrilled and honored by this concert at the Donaueschinger Musiktage. The thought of one more performance with Robert Black, whom he greatly admired, presenting his new work for low-pitched instruments that he was particularly fond of, andreconnecting with old and new friends in Donaueschingen would have meant the world to him." - Neil Leonard, Berklee College of Music, Boston

Madelyn Byrd returns to Glasgow’s Somewhere Press with a hazed set of weightless soundscapes. »Night Rider« opens in widescreen with the chirp of cicadas dancing across a desert landscape, before Shiroishi’s saxophone eventually cuts through the dark like neon. The story Byrd tells is close to their heart: they spent their teenage years in the Sonoran Desert, the vast subtropical expanse spanning parts of Arizona, California, and Mexico. Its seemingly alien landscape — pocked with giant, tree-like cacti and looming rocky outcrops — is lodged in the cultural memory, a quality Byrd draws on as they slowly reveal their poetic narrative.

The album plays like a road movie of sorts, moving through Byrd’s memories and setting them to very different rhythms. Clattering drums emerge on »Of Nature, Of Bodies, Of Dreams«, while Byrd’s soft tones, processed to sound almost otherworldly, glide gently across the metallic clangs. Each track highlights a form of movement: there is the microscopic, insectoid crunch of »Imprint«, where guitar prangs meet Shiroishi’s spirited runs, while »Into Sonoran Pool« creates motion from the atmosphere itself, recreating the thick desert air with shimmering electrical currents and psychedelic processes.

At this point, the album begins to echo Robert Ashley’s late-period theatrical work: compositions that broke with familiar formats, juxtaposing dialogue with knowingly experimental orchestral flourishes. Byrd strikes a similar note through a fusion of poetry, sound design, choral music, and chiming, listless ambient elements that also recall Harold Budd. Budd grew up in the Mojave Desert, which borders the Sonoran, creating an eerie parallel with the moods he conjured throughout his long career.

Byrd finds a similarly aesthetic link to the West Coast landscape, referencing the history of experimental music while establishing their own voice. As the album rides into the sunset with a roar of engines, they offer a distinct vision of pop: »What Is, What Was« integrates a chugging break and ketamised vocal hook, while the finale, »In Perfume, Remember«, lands as a James K-like heartmelter.

This VA release brings together four producers who share a common language: hypnosis, movement, and an obsessive attention to sound design. Across two sides of vinyl, the record moves through different shades of deep and mental techno, held together by a sense of restraint and clarity rather than force.

Na Nich opens the A-side with a mental yet groove-driven piece, where impeccable sound quality meets a clean, deliberate design. LFO-driven elements float underneath the surface, almost speaking, giving the track a voice of its own without ever breaking its hypnotic hold.

Forest On Stasys follows with a tribal and deep approach that still hits with weight. Shakers and layered percussion drive the movement forward, building a rhythmic body that feels both organic and controlled.
On the B-side, Translate stays true to a purely mental identity: repeating LFOs and speaking tones that fold in on themselves, always kept clean and precise, letting the repetition do the work.

Save Your Atoll & Gabriele Santucci close the record with a deep, tribal-leaning cut full of groove and motion. Bongos, shakers, and background percussion build a danceable hypnosis, where every element serves the movement.

Four tracks, four voices, one shared sense of direction — a record built for the floor, but never at the expense of detail.

Anting brings to vinyl the natural evolution of a project born on Bandcamp: a release built around honest audio and the human connection between the artists involved. It also gives a clear view into Alessio Landini’s musical universe, tied together by one thread: intense rhythms, hypnotic spaces, and raw analog textures, with a subtle nod to organic and traditional tones, all built for the sound system.

With contributions from Ketch and Uväll, the release opens up the palette while keeping it tight and coherent: a physical record that hits in the club and holds up for deep listening.

Pressure is the medium of wind players. Wind instruments all sound thanks to pressure differentials, whether that’s the rush of wind over a lip plate or a steady, buzzing exhalation through pursed lips. Ka Baird and Chris Ryan Williams (HxH) are wind players well- schooled in the power of using pressure and movement to amplify the mystery of an invisible force animating a metal tube. They augment their instruments, flute and trumpet respectively, with electronics, sometimes obscuring the acoustic sound source, sometimes making it hyperreal. Flutters of lip and tongue slither over the listener’s ear, and sustained tones become a dense fog, pushing on other kinds of visceral, emotional pressure points.

On Enthalpy, Baird and Williams’ first album as a duo, the energy they conjure feels barely contained, the pressure built up to a breaking point before spilling out in multiple directions at various speeds. They borrow the title from thermodynamics, referring to the total energy of a system based on its pressure and volume. The music flies out in bursts; it seeps and oozes, flows with intention. It is an incredibly rhythmic work without any hint of meter, full of sounds that punctuate with the thud of a dart hitting a bullseye. Williams’ capability to conjure swirling atmospherics, as well as his remarkable ability to pull fragments of melody from the haze, fit puzzle-like into Baird’s exclamations and the eruption of electronics that often dovetail them. The duo draws on tones from nearly the entire range of human hearing, from nimble but bulbous throbs of sub-bass to pinprick flickers of ultra-high end.

The sessions that produced Enthalpy were completely improvised, showcasing a degree of mind-meld that belies each participant’s thrill at approaching the unknown. This isn’t a casual conversation, but an omnidirectional tangle that ties and reties itself into new knots as the album progresses. Williams and Baird have both become ubiquitous presences throughout the New York City experimental music communities, collaborating with innumerable others and learning how their unique approaches work in tandem with similarly expansive thinkers and players. Even in the album’s most spacious moments, there’s a tension between the feeling of being unmoored and yet completely locked in, like the abyss is just one more river to cross. They ford it together before moving on to the next idea in lock step.

For the listener, Enthalpy is often felt in the body as much as it reverberates within the ears. We’re tossed from side to side, made to shoulder the impact of detonating electronics, absorbing these sounds with the feet, gut, and crown. Baird reaches into the back of their throat for guttural growls, and we can almost feel the scratch. As we tread the border of the synthesthetic, it's a reminder of the physical nature of sound, that the space between our ears and the speakers is its own enthalpic system of energy conduction. Move with it, let it move you, and see how it feels.

Radically exploratory, Raphael Loher’s Figuren is an album shaped by process and experimentation. Guided by intuition, listening, and a deliberate distancing from his primary instrument—the piano—, the LP marks a decisive step in the Swiss pianist and composer’s artistic development, expanding his sonic vocabulary while maintaining a distinct and personal language.

Figuren draws on ten intimate concert recordings from Keemuun—Loher’s debut for Three:four Records—created during the pandemic and performed in his studio for just one or two listeners. This source material was subsequently developed during a residency in the Blenio Valley, where Loher deconstructed melodic elements, isolated individual tones, and extracted resonances, reassembling them into new configurations. The process generated around 30 initial pieces and also informed his sophomore album, Hug of Gravity, released by Hallow Ground in 2025.

In a further stage of transformation, Loher processed these fragments through a Revox B77 tape machine, subtly altering their pitch before digitizing and reshaping them once again. This iterative cycle of manipulation and recombination forms the core of Figuren’s sonic language.

Departing from the more structured frameworks of his earlier work, Figuren foregrounds experimentation as both method and aesthetic. The compositions range from finely layered rhythmic microstructures to sparse, evolving melodic fragments, each unfolding with a precise sense of restraint.

Errands is the first duo recording from Marja Ahti, Swedish-Finnish sound artist and electroacoustic composer, and John McCowen, a native of Southern Illinois, now residing in Iceland, whose work centres on a radical exploration of clarinet multiphonics. Working without the aid of electronics, McCowen has spent years finessing performance techniques that allow him to layer beating patterns and split tones that belie their source in a monophonic instrument. Ahti, in contrast, has built up a stunning body of work in recent years using a classic electroacoustic palette of electronic, field recordings and instrumental sounds. Sharing a bill at the 2024 iteration of Stockholm’s Edition Festival, the pair discovered a sensibility shared across their different sonic means, beginning the collaborative process that would eventually result in the mercurial side-long pieces heard on Errands.

The word ‘errand’ suggests something purposeful but routine, and Ahti’s and McCowen’s work is suffused with the everyday. Meeting with McCowen to record in Iceland, Ahti used the opportunity to gather field recordings, capturing not the natural sublimity often associated with the country—think Chris Watson’s shifting glaciers—but everyday life in Reykjavik. Snatches of bustling streets and what could be humming engines thread between static sinewaves, stretches of clarinet resonances and fleeting textures, the latter often at once visceral and impossible to identify. Errands: we are a long way from the grandiose framing devices favoured by the pioneers of electroacoustic music, yet many of their principles are at work here. The gradual metamorphosis of one sound into another, the carefully achieved ambiguity between the acoustic and electronic, the treatment of the stereo field as a compositional element: all of these link Ahti and McCowen’s music to the electroacoustic tradition, yet their sensibility is radically different. The overall effect is a kind of stillness, but one at peace with continuous change. Like the unwieldy but somehow stylish everyday forms captured in the Hertta Kiiski photographs that adorn the record's sleeve, the music seems to prize a kind of deliberate awkwardness, interrupting static held textures not with an abrupt cut, but with a quick fade, suddenly revealing background as foreground.

Ahti and McCowen’s world is everyday and unornamented, but also shadowed by the numinous. Halfway through 'Chorales', we hear an arrangement for overdubbed recorders of an early motet of Messiaen’s, O sacrum convivium! Played on recorders, the piece shrinks into delicacy and dim memories of childhood music lessons, while at the same time its harmonies retain the grandeur of their liturgical origin. This double quality inflects much of what follows on Errands, including snatches of field-recorded water or air, which seem at once elemental and domestic. Enlivened with countless details that repay repeated relistening, Errands is a record that leaves the listener ready to open their ears anew to their own sound environment.

*comes with Download Code.

Simplicity floods itself in textured imperfection and anointed noise on the debut oracular folk guitar album released under the UK’s 5 Gate Temple.

A roughly recorded stack of improvisations on a classical-style guitar, God Spill embodies the broken, all while un-doing the expectations around traditional guitar folk. Mingot's fingerpicked tones meld with unsteady pedal loops and hissed drones rotating through flawed circuitry. A slow to becoming repair that is translucent, cryptic and oblique.

Mingot's misty glitched landscape paints the polarity of both presence and disappearance, all cyclically mirroring the unseen. Honesty, discordance, impatience, and certainty all find home alongside blurred vocal drones.

Since 2022, the EU-based, Queens NY native has released music elusively as hardcore high priestess St Agnis and now swims waters of the acoustic - with soft rage and pursuit.

»Pipe Dreams II & III« presents two new, side-long organ works by Mary Jane Leach, extending the sonic investigations of her 1989 landmark »Pipe Dreams«. Recorded in Ghent and Cologne, the two side-long pieces use shifting stops, resonance and beating tones to turn the pipe organ into a vivid, physical field of sound.

When »Pipe Dreams« was issued on vinyl for the first time by Blume in 2017, it was effectively the first time many of us encountered Mary Jane Leach’s music, finally placing her work in its proper historical context amid the searching Downtown milieu of Julius Eastman, Arthur Russell, Arnold Dreyblatt, Ellen Fullman, Philip Corner, Daniel Goode, and Peter Zummo. Leach collaborated with most of these artists at one point or another, either in Downtown Ensemble or as a guest on their records.

Now »Pipe Dreams II« and »Pipe Dreams III« arrive, recorded in 2023 and 2024 at Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium, and Kunst-Station Sankt Peter in Cologne, respectively.

»When I was a young child, my family lived next door to a church, where my mother was the organist. I spent many hours lying on the floor of the sanctuary listening to the music, letting the sound of the organ envelop me. I also liked to play the piano loudly with the pedal down, producing clouds of sound, much to my family’s annoyance. These two organ pieces explore some of my earliest musical interests and aesthetics.

In 1989, I lived in a tower attached to St Peter’s Church in Cologne, where I had access to its organ. It had two sets of pipes, front and back, which could create antiphonal effects. I spent countless hours exploring the possibilities of all the permutations of notes, space, and the resulting sound phenomena. I wrote »Pipe Dreams« for that organ. Fast forward to 2023, when I was asked to create a piece for organ for a concert at the Miry Concertzaal in Ghent, Belgium: »Pipe Dreams II«. I had a few days to familiarise myself with the organ, its available stops, and the layout of the console. I choreographed stop changes for a volunteer, as I couldn’t reach them myself. Some amazing sounds began to happen, and at one point the sound was so visceral that I felt as though I were taming a wild beast.

»Pipe Dreams III« was performed in 2024 on the organ that I had spent so much time playing in 1989–90. One big difference, though, was that the console was totally new and computerised. Having access to the organ for only a few hours before the concert, I decided that I did not have enough time to feel comfortable with the console and should not attempt to recreate the piece I had written in 1989. I would instead use the same sequence of stops and perform an improvised piece. I loved the sounds that were being created, and I was having so much fun that at one point I even started to laugh quietly. I began to visualise the beating notes as if they were atoms, opening them up to expose their innards, with the beating, higher-pitched notes — neutrons and protons — shimmering at the top, and the lower notes — the electrons — throbbing away at the bottom. I was playing notes not so much for their pitch value, but for how they affected the notes and sound phenomena already being played. Instead of a time signature, I timed the entries by listening to the beating patterns, waiting for the right moment to enter. And no, I wasn’t hallucinating.«

Mary Jane Leach, 2026

After regular appearances at Berghain since his debut two years ago, Altinbas now presents his contribution to Ostgut Ton, tying together five tracks that outline an expedition through celestial bodies in ‘Beyond the Veil’. Deepening his research on intricately crafted ambiance, the EP strikes a balance between commanding rhythm and blossoming synth work that reaffirm his inimitable style. ‘Beyond the Veil’ is a conceptual collaboration between an artist and a room; describing the dancefloor as an organism and the architecture of its surroundings.

Over the years, harmony has become synonymous with the Belgian artist’s sound. Deeply tuned and cohesive, Altinbas’s productions walk the boundary between insistent anticipation and unparalleled warmth. Although dancefloor effect remains a central theme for him, ‘Beyond the Veil’ is the latest chapter in a long study of obscurity in music that qualifies almost as ritualistic. Tracks like ‘Beyond the Veil’ and ‘Charming the Cosmic Snake’create tension in the keys that resonates like an expedition into new soundscapes. With weight and stability in the percussion, airy textures and hypnotic synth lines roll off the rhythm to mesmerize the listener. Sculpting his arrangements around the development of rich, dubby and atmospheric tones, Altinbas capitalises on the natural flow of his elements to provide an organic touch to tracks that are tuned especially for high pressure sound systems. ‘Entanglement’ and ‘Winter’ are both examples of this : soulful techno that ebbs and flows with each transition. Dimension is pushed dramatically into each of the five pieces of the EP as a direct response to the current climate of tool oriented techno. Keeping a safe distance from this approach, Altinbas invites listeners to explore the shape of his sound in an embrace rather than submit to its abrasion. The project concludes with ‘Antichamber’ - the fifth track of the EP that announces a departure from strict club codes. Dampening the rhythm from a pulse to a sway, a dreamlike landscape rises from deep within the record, smoothing over any of the rougher residuals from the preceding tracks. The descent that is ‘Antichamber’ is the result of an accumulated euphoria, gently guiding the listener back to consciousness.

‘Beyond the Veil’ represents a checkpoint for Altinbas in his research of moving a dancefloor not only physically, but emotionally. Carving out his own space in dancefloor-oriented music, he offers highly expressive compositions in defiance of the status quo. Altinbas offers this EP as a personal statement of where he stands; five tracks of carefully tended tone and harmonic glow create an emotional urgency for the collective experience.

Entre Nous is the debut album from Eden Aurelius. A beautifully poised collection for Short Span. A gorgeous showcase of her singular talent within a sparkling scene. Recorded in Brooklyn, NY, this is an innovative, and graceful body of music that feels truly contemporary.

This album felt important for us to have out in time for summer. Emerging out of the heat, a feeling brought alive with the sun. Music that evolves throughout seasons and carries a spectrum of emotional range.

Entre Nous is tight, but expansive. Its depth and complexity is languid but has gravitational pull. Like much of her work, this record feels so refreshing because its tracks are both sensory and illusory tones built in gossamer and transitory layers of satin. They have a remarkable sense of presence and pressure - floating rhythmically without sharp edges. There is guidance and gentle control that lead throughout the record.

The B side opens with “Ion” featuring Pontiac Streator. The song is formed out of a textural haze. A glistening, iridescent light appears, broken through fabric, projecting a blurred image onto the surface nearby. A hypnotic and evocative collaboration. The shared connection between the two artists’ command of rhythm and ambient language.

Mastered and cut by Mike Grinser at Manmade.

Art by Lucas Dupuy.

Following earlier appearances on Time Horizon IV and a remix for Pushlock's "Journey at the end of the Brain", Low End Activist returns to further cement his link with XCPT — this time with a full-length that extends into a shared message.
It’s a record that deals in pressure and placement where the rhythms carry weight without dominating, allowing tones to dissolve at the edges. Space isn’t decorative here, it’s structural — carrying as much intent as the low-end itself.
A respectful and meticulous approach emerges in the spectral handling of samples — spooked, finely cut, and quietly rooted in a jazz-derived sphere.
The album stays locked into its own logic of reduction, control, and tension. What emerges is a fluid listening experience less about peaks, more about persistence, 8 Tracks spanning the various palette of bass music through the art of good sampling; both for the floor but also for intimate momentum of introspection. A Journey into the sound merging the new with the old school.

Archimboldos have clawed their way out of the starcaves of their primordial past and into the tranquil light of a coral garden on their third full length album, Crusta Arcana, a gumbo stewpot of transcendent electronica suffused with tribal rhythms and liquid ambience. Across a stereo field smeared with tolling bells, post-industrial folk percussion, and tinkling keys, Archimboldos soundtrack a science fictional journey, not into the depths of space, but deep beneath the waves.

In the past the Chilean duo of Nicolás Carcavilla and Felipe Crocco have described their music as “liminal shrimp folk.” Here they continue this strange exploration when they visit the court of the prawns, producing stately electronic chamber orchestrations. Perhaps these are the frequencies used for ritual dream initiation into the mystery schools of drowned Atlantis. Weaving an ancient sacred science, Archimboldos take listeners on a mystic vovage into their singular crustacean mythology, the crusta of their hidden arcana.

Archimbolodos are masters of conjoining cyclonic and centrifugal lines of electricity into spellbinding incantations. These deep-sea transmissions envelope the listener into aquamarine forcefields that are as hallucinatory as they are hypnotic. Navigating these strange fantasias could lead one to getting lost at sea, but the work is buoyed by the somnolent melodies of lonely harpsichords and swelling synth pads whose sustained tones reach towards distant shores. Sailing across a vast expanse of oceanic harmonies and percolating percussion, these pieces are as precise as the hand of a sailor on the rudder, moving with the tide.

Casting their net wide across eight pieces, Archimboldos have made a big catch. From the emotive electronic counterpoint found on “Bursting Armor” to the blocks of seaweed tangled sonic sculpture trawled up from the ocean floor on “Aphelion IX.” Other songs are like samples of biological ambience collected from luminous tide pools: resplendent tones placed into a Petri dish of sound, swirled, cultured and fermented until it undulates with the rhythmic movement of microscopic lifeforms. Alternating between rippling minimalist sonority and pounding, progressive, synth-heavy entrancement, Crusta Arcana charts its own idiosyncratic itinerary of instrumental invention.

All the while light is down streaming from the heavens to pierce the waters, here calm, there choppy. The intrepid musical captains commanding Archimboldos have laid a course for new archipelagos of the imagination, guided by heavenly constellations.

-Justin Patrick Moore, author of The Radio Phonics Laboratory, Telecommunications, Speech Synthesis and the Birth of Electronic Music

Lummer is the Swedish name for the now protected family of vascular plants (Clubmoss/Lycopodiaceae). Lummer grows slowly and the spores with which it reproduces can take 12—20 years to develop. These spores, known as Nikt in Swedish, were once ground into an extremely flammable light yellow “old woman’s gunpowder” that was used for early theatrical pyrotechnics. Volatile and explosive, Lummernikt requires careful handling.

There is something of the small scale dangerous in Finn Loxbo’s Lummernikt, too. A not-at-all-risk-free traversal at the limits of technique: building, blowing up and working through a band’s worth of harmonic scaffolding. Eight songs on a stage. Dramatic, breath-taking. At the same time the wild, flickering rush of tones spins up a centrifugal force that suspends a certain calm or sitting still at the music’s core.

On Lummernikt, Loxbo’s guitar often sounds more like a concert harp or the West African kora as he shifts a set of melodic fragments and extended lines through rapid-fire arpeggiated permutations with a spontaneous energy that is countered only by his extraordinary touch on the instrument and an undeniable sensitivity to his material’s dynamic potential.

It’s a glorious extension of the chiming chords and experimental preparations heard in his contributions to Magnus Granberg's Skogen (Another Timbre) or via his own ensemble Kommun (Fönstret, Thanatosis) and in striking contrast to the distorted wail he contributes to Anna Högberg Attack’s Ensamseglaren (Fönstret) or his all-in-the-red trio Kyosaku (Corbett vs Dempsey).

It’s now several years ago that Finn sent me the first recording of his new band Kommun and asked if I had suggestions for a label that might want to release it. I played that recording on repeat until I couldn’t shake the idea that I needed to start a label to put it out myself. Lummernikt is the spark that keeps that fire alive.

After hooking up with Ten’s Gary Hughes for his first three solo albums, and his fellow Hard Rain band-mate Paul Hodson for his fourth, when it came to ‘Spirit of Man’, Bob’s fifth album, the Magnum vocalist worked with the guys from Lost Weekend, along with Vince O’Regan (Escape, Legion, Pulse), who had been Bob’s touring guitarist for many of his solo shows. Vince and Bob also played many acoustic shows, and during this productive period the duo retired to Vince’s studio and recorded acoustic versions of songs covering Bob’s full solo career. The result is 11 songs highlighting the beloved velvet tones of Catley’s vocals and the melodic clarity of O’Regan’s delicate finger picking. No Magnum songs, but then this is purely a record of Bob Catley’s wonderful and highly successful solo career. Artwork and design by award-winning artist Sebastian Kozak (Ten, Crown of Thorns etc).

Issued on Crystal Clear vinyl is Max Richter’s emotive and minimal score to Damon Lindelof’s TV series about a post-apocalyptic global event where 2%

of the world’s population disappears without explanation. Richter’s approach explores the feelings of the protagonist’s family, the Garveys, through intimate,

small scale music. He tackles this psychological landscape by bringing a ritual quality to the score, while themes of departure and loss are represented by

a sense of sonic decay, relying on the instrumentation of a few sustained tones on pianos, harps and celesta.

Max Richter is a classically trained composer that defies boundaries. Trained at the Royal Academy of Music and finishing his studies under the tutelage

of avant-garde composer Luciano Berio in Florence, Richter’s career has followed many paths. His musical output ranges from ballets

(Wayne MacGregor’s Infra), reinventions of classical works (Vivaldi’s Four Seasons), collaborations with The Future Sound Of London, Roni Size and

Vashti Bunyan to writing scores for film and TV (Waltz With Bashir, Lost and Found, Last Days on Mars) and solo work.

Almost Starlight is the extraordinary new album by Jem Finer (hurdy-gurdy) and John Matthias (violin). Produced by Jay Auborn and recorded in a Medieval Church, deep in the Devon countryside, in the Summer of 2025, the music is suffused with light, heat and the natural acoustics of the space.

The album defies categorisation; forced to pigeon hole it the nearest approximation would be ‘modern-classical’ but this ignores its myriad influences and explorations which encompass inspiration from Arvo Pärt through Terry Riley to Can via Delius, Alice Coltrane and a subtle reimagining of electronic music played purely with acoustic instruments, bending and shaping their possibilities in surprising and unexpected directions.

Jay Auborn plays cello on a number of the compositions and his production opens up and expands the music through a skilled and imaginative use of space, paying homage to the atmosphere of the church; ‘the sound evolved… chasing the imagined acoustics of that church in my mind; a place for worshipping light with sound.’

Almost Starlight will be released on the 4th September by Touch, available as CD, vinyl, cassette and on streaming platforms.

BIOS OF THE ARTISTS

Jem Finer

Since studying computer science in the 1970s, Jem Finer has worked in various fields, including photography, film, experimental and popular music, sound recording, sculpture and installation.

Much of his work relates to systems, extended processes and extremes of scale and includes Longplayer, a musical composition repeating once every 1000 years, and the Gurdy and Hurdy stones, ancient rocks set upright in fields in East Sussex and Gloucestershire with Jimmy Cauty. Their work together includes a band, The Standing Stones, whose most recent release is Twa Sisters, featuring Iona Zajac and Daragh Lynch.

He was a founder member of The Pogues, with whom he has played, written and recorded since 1981.

Recent music revolves around a fascination with the hurdy-gurdy and includes hrdy-grdy, a cassette released by Benedict Drew’s Thanet Tape Centre. His latest collaboration, with John Matthias, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

John Matthias

Since studying Theoretical Physics in the late 1980s and 1990s, John has created music and sound in many forms, including for installation, popular music, music for film, for dance and orchestra.

Much of John’s work plays with the physics of complex systems but he is also greatly influenced by stories and song. John has collaborated with Matthew Herbert, Stanley Donwood, Jay Auborn, Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Nick Ryan and many others to create music with a variety of textures and sonorities. He is particularly interested in simplicity and form and how context informs the way music sounds.

His latest collaboration, with Jem Finer, Almost Starlight, will be released by Touch in September 2026.

The compositions recorded here are a product of work with computers in synthetic speech, song and vocal sounds and were created between 1972 and 1975. The music was realized on two different computer music systems and takes advantage of, and attempts to extend and explore their features. The system employed to realize speech songs was created at the Bell Telephone Laboratories for research in synthetic speech and speech communication. Since the system was not designed for musical purposes, its limitations were severe and its musical use a great (and often rewarding) challenge. The system used for In Celebration and The Story of Our Lives was designed with the expressed purpose of creating synthetic musical voices, and was therefore much better suited to the task at hand. As with any high technology project, there was extensive collaboration in the production of the works.

The works on this disk are called computer music because the sounds were created numerically in a computer before reaching magnetic tape and loudspeakers. The computer did not compose the music. However, it was only used as a sound synthesis and analysis medium. In order to hear the sounds which are represented in the computer as successions of numbers it was necessary to attach a digital-to-analogue converter to the computer. The converter transformed the succession of numbers into a fluctuating voltage which was recorded directly on to audio tape.

The technique used to create the synthetic voices is called speech synthesis-by-analysis. For this method of speech synthesis, only those words, phrases and sentences which have been spoken into the computer previously (via an analogue-to-digital converter) may be synthesized. First the digitally-recorded speech is analyzed by programs which extract the attributes (parameters) of the speech for short time segments (.01 sec.). From these parameters the speech may be recreated in a form which resembles the original recording very closely. But for musical purposes the parameters are most often altered before synthesis. It is possible, for example, to change the natural pitch contour of the speech into a melodic line or to change the speech speed without altering the natural pitch level.

The variety of musical patterns which may be created from the analytic parameters is limited only by the composer's imagination. Most of the speech sounds on the recording were created by changing the pitch and duration attributes of the original on resynthesis, but for a few, the resonances (the formants) of the speech were altered as well. The voice of the book in The Story of Our Lives was created by replacing the program which simulates the sound of the human vocal cords with one consisting of 64 sine tones glissandoing at different rates. All the textures in which more than one voice is heard were obtained by mixing the synthetic voices together digitally.

Kitsune No Yomeiri, which translates to the fox’s wedding, is an endearing expression used to describe sunshowers. Dawson returned home from a recent tour of Japan with a collection of field recordings documenting the spring rain he encountered throughout his travels. These curious sounds, stretching from peaceful shrines to clattering city streets, underpin the material.

Dawson also credits the wonderful folks he met on that tour with profoundly shaping the direction of the album. After each show he found himself immersed in inspiring conversations about the guitar. Through navigating the language barrier, he discovered he was communicating with an immense sincerity that he would ordinarily avoid at all costs. “I’ve always just made records at home in a vortex, but this time it felt like those conversations were there with me in the studio.”

Musically the album has a slight western slant. It’s not country, but it does see Dawson lean softly into his prairie past. Constellations of stray notes and rusted tones form nostalgic melodies, like chance encounters between old friends. Dawson allows phrases and gestures to repeat across the record, resulting in a collection that’s more akin to turning the pages of a novel than a series of vignettes vying for attention.

Long Slow Distance is an album about finding peace, and making peace where it can’t be found. It’s inspired by change, grief, acceptance, forgiveness, love, and running.

Dawson began running around the same time he started making records. At this point it’s unclear where one practice ends and the other begins. The album’s title has become the ethos he’s embraced for all things in life.

Long Slow Dance unravels the woven collage of his previous work. Here each song consists of three long guitar takes, panned across the stereo-field with minimal overdubs. “I remember my grandmother always kept a rain barrel on the farm. Just a simple vessel that served as a means for gathering water for the garden and the flowers. I wanted to instill that sentiment on this record. Other than some panning and recreational EQing, the computer was just a vessel to gather sounds.”

There is a distant grace to the album. A soft expanse, a quiet contrast. Guitars dissolve and then recalibrate. Sparse melodic motifs bloom and fracture. Warm chords clash and make amends. Alpenglow textures shimmer against tones that feel weathered by salt air. The songs are lightly propulsive, yet drift at a glacial pace. Fields and artifacts ground the material, like keeping your eyes on the horizon. Long Slow Distance feels intuitive, sentimental, and like Dawson is one step closer to whatever distance he is chasing.
Downloadable Assets

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

In a world increasingly shaped by disposable content, Chat Pile answer with something defiantly real and organic, a mentality that permeates Who Loves The Sun, their third full-length record. Since the band’s formation just over six years ago, the Oklahoma City-based quartet Chat Pile has grown from a scrappy passion project into one of the defining heavy acts to emerge from the 2020s underground. Ray B. (vocals), L. Manhole (guitar), Stin (bass), and Cap’n Ron (drums) create a crushing, crass, and cathartic take on noise rock that captures a raw, undeniably human essence in an age marked by technological overreach and the cold state of society. Nothing about Who Loves The Sun feels synthetic.

Whereas their debut album God’s Country depicted a particularly American flavor of dread, and the follow up Cool World showed a cruel planet defined by global systemic violence, Who Loves The Sun peels the skin back on how collective indifference defines this new century. Spanning imagery of coastlines devouring cities, dead-end jobs, and submission to data-driven inauthenticity, the album dissects the apathy-bloated state of 21st-century existence as a slow-motion apocalypse. As with much of Chat Pile’s work, Oklahoma City itself looms over the album like a character, its sprawling isolation, economic contradictions, and underlying sense of decay embedded in the fabric of the record. The perfect allegory for the thematic essence of Who Loves The Sun is the photo embossed on the record’s cover, where Devon Tower, a glassy, largely vacant monolith, looms high above the Oklahoma City skyline while a burnt-out home or storefront envelops the foreground. The album remains lyrically and sonically confrontational, but Chat Pile approached the songwriting with hooks in mind, drawing on melodic tones of pre-2000s indie rock, alt-rock, and new wave. From the blood-soaked vocal passages of “Christabel ’26” to the eerie trip-hop pulse of “Same Rules,” Who Loves The Sun is deeply human despite its allusions to a dying, divided .

Fresh off of their 2020 offering Adult Themes, El Michels Affair is back with a new full-length release. Titled Yeti Season, this newest album has everything we've come to expect from EMA's patented cinematic style of instrumental soul music. Where Adult Themes inspired a soundtrack to an imaginary film, Yeti Season brings us to a different place in time_with new inspirations. Taken with Turkish-styled funk and an almost Mumbai-esque take on soul, El Michels Affair offers us a different kind of drama and imagination with Yeti Season. If you've been following along, this shouldn't be viewed as too far a departure for El Michels Affair. The first single off of Yeti Season showed their hand back in 2018. A double-sided banger, that release brought the musical textures to the fore that dominate this record. The first song, titled "Unathi," is fully realized with the beautifully haunting-yet-hopeful vocals of Piya Malik, formally of 79.5_another Big Crown artist. Singing in Hindi, Piya's ethereal voice is telling us to work and strive together toward progress. Even if you don't understand her language, you can still hear the urgency of purpose, creating a lasting vibe that sits on top of it all. Leon Michels explains that Piya had a vital influence on this record: "When Piya started singing in Hindi, she had a different voice, a different tone. I knew we had to do something together." And so Piya appears on three other songs on Yeti Season: "Zaharila," "Murkit Gem," and "Dhuaan." Each providing particular signatures to the album. "Zaharila" is a building and changing love song punctuated by blaring trumpets, driving drums, and Piya's pleading lyrics. While the more upbeat "Murkit Gem" opens with a fuzzed out, Wu-Tang-esque baseline that buoys Piya's stylings. The psychedelic guitar and Piya's changing tones and textures singing about an all-consuming love are what pushed "Dhuaan" on to the second single from Yeti Season. There is also a vocal appearance from Shannon Wise of The Shacks, yet another Big Crown artist. Her song called "Sha Na Na," lies more in the familiar EMA vein: melodic, hypnotic, soulfully visual. But between Shannon's airy singing, the jumpy baseline, moody vibes, the active drum lines, it sounds like a pensive walk home after a strangely dramatic night. So what is Yeti Season? It could be more of a feeling than an actual place or time of year. It's a heavy album_as evidenced by the signature musicianship and dramatic vocal expressions. But it's also a hopeful record, with phrasings, textures, and chord changes that hint at something better_or fuller_coming our way. You hear it in songs like "Ala Vida," with its stabby, pulsing chords laying a bedrock for EMA's bright, atmospheric horn lines. Or even in "Fazed Out," which leaves you with a feeling of determination, a striving for resolution even though the driving, march-like song structure should accompany some conquering army. This persistence has to come from the fact that Leon Michels and company finished this record during the lockdown. It was a tough and troublesome time. But look at what has come of it: Yeti Season_a record of high and heavy drama, but also one of hope and promise. It may take a year like 2020 behind us to find hope in a winter big footed creature like a Yeti, but that's where we are.

In Walter Benjamin’s seminal essay “Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, he posits that the aura of art objects is destroyed by the ability to photographically reproduce them. When you had to make a pilgrimage to a work it remained elusive, charged, ever distant; but when you can easily see a reproduction, such aura dissipates. What Benjamin did not anticipate is that in the age of AI and the frictionless fount of digital content, we have imbued mechanical and analog means of media production with aura. Film cameras from the last 100 years are in high demand (the point and shoot Olympus Mju I featured in Wim Wenders film Perfect Days still sells for $200), vinyl sales continue to grow year by year, 35mm and 70mm film screenings have become aura-drenched events people travel across country for, and as to the world of vintage and analog synthesizers, when a friend asked for the price on the Yamaha CS-80 synth used on Toto’s “Africa”, the answer was a cool $60,000.

Despite the ability to simulate almost any synthesizer on a computer, the original physical units retain their mystique. Perhaps this lies in the physical process, many of these synths are temperamental and difficult to fully utilize, and the effort and ingenuity can be felt in ways that will always be absent from easy digital simulacra. Perhaps there is an aura in their imperfection, as Brian Eno wrote: “Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit - all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided.” Some may call this nostalgia, but such sonic imperfections are the sounds of humans interacting with the physical world, and it is understandable to feel a pang of emotion and attachment in a time of exponential alienation.

Marche 22 was recorded over a week at the Museo Del Synth Marchigiano in Macerata, Italy. The museum is filled with rare and obscure synths (especially CRB, GEM & Elka) as well as salvaged materials from a nearby shuttered Farfisa organ factory, including MARS, an unfinished realtime audio processing application developed by IRIS - similar to the now well known MAX/MSP. Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein play a suite of pieces that encompasses the last sixty years of synthesizer music—there are nods to Cluster, Tangerine Dream, Jean Michel Jarre, and Morton Subotnick. Dixon and Stein are like jazz masters playing the American songbook with their own riffs and quotations. What shines through in these varied works that are sometimes rhythmic, sometimes melancholic, and sometimes both, is a soul, a spirit, an emotion vibrating through the tones like the charge of coming rain or the thrum of a distant train on the tracks. - Neil Fauerso

Big Crown Records is proud to present the debut full length offering from Les Imprimés, Rêverie. The stirring and ethereal sounds of Les Imprimés have been making fans of anyone who hears them since their first 7" single hit the speakers. Morten Martens is the man behind the band. Born, raised, and working in Kristiansand, Norway, he keeps a low prole while making his heart felt, highly infectious, and unique music. This album is a long time coming for Martens and it is sure to make him a name to be reckoned with. The first thing you notice listening to Les Imprimés is the high level of musician-ship. Martens plays nearly every instrument on the recordings and handles the production and arranging. He has been making records for decades, winning a Spellemann Award (aka, the Norwegian Grammy) in 2006 for producing a HipHop album as well as getting nominations across three other genres. While awards and accolades speak to the level of his talent, this new album really shows who he is an artist on his own terms. Moving away from being a hired gun on the touring scene naturally led him to start doing more studio work. Slowly collecting gear and getting more experi-ence behind the boards he built his own studio on the island of Odderoya and was making a living playing with and recording other people's music. As the story goes, after those sessions would end he would work on his own project into the wee hours of the night. From these late night sessions, Les Imprimés was born and Rêverie began to take shape. However, "it wasn't until COVID, when things locked down, that I was really able to nd the time to focus on Les Imprimés" Morten says about creating and leading his own solo project. "It was a scary time. But I knew I had to do something with it." He took the sum of his inuences, combined them with his own vibe and got busy writing the music, playing the instruments, and singing the songs. "It's soul music, but I don't exactly have the soul voice," Morten explains humbly. "But I do it my own way, in a way that's mine. "It is his sound, his fingerprint, his sensibility, that makes his music hard to put in a box. The album showcases both Martens' range and his ability to make a cohesive album. The lead single "Falling Away" starts with a raw drum break and turns into a lushly arranged tune that paints the picture of love when it slips away. On "Still Here" he professes his resilience through life's twists and turns over a thundering track that puts a new spin on the B side ballad genre. Songs like "You" and "Our Love" mix tones from 60s and 70s Soul with arrangement nods to Doo Wop records while Martens' lyrics and delivery leave you singing the melodies long after they finish. "Love & Flowers" finds Martens in a moment of clarity with a song that ts the niche sub genre of happy break up tunes, the four on the floor track will move the dancefloor or while the message will resonate with anyone who put too much effort into the wrong situation in their lives. However, it is songs like "Muse" and "Chess" that really encapsulate the uniqueness of Les Imprimés as they push the boundaries of genre, one a profession of love for music and the other a cover of an electronic record respectively. Martens' lyrics, emotion, and delivery truly make the whole thing come together and stand out from any of his peers. There's an infectiousness and a pop sensibility in the writing that is done with the utmost class and taste giving Les Imprimés the rare quality of immediate attraction that only deepens the more you listen.

The compositions recorded here are a product of work with computers in synthetic speech, song and vocal sounds and were created between 1972 and 1975. The music was realized on two different computer music systems and takes advantage of, and attempts to extend and explore their features. The system employed to realize speech songs was created at the Bell Telephone Laboratories for research in synthetic speech and speech communication. Since the system was not designed for musical purposes, its limitations were severe and its musical use a great (and often rewarding) challenge. The system used for In Celebration and The Story of Our Lives was designed with the expressed purpose of creating synthetic musical voices, and was therefore much better suited to the task at hand. As with any high technology project, there was extensive collaboration in the production of the works.

The works on this disk are called computer music because the sounds were created numerically in a computer before reaching magnetic tape and loudspeakers. The computer did not compose the music. However, it was only used as a sound synthesis and analysis medium. In order to hear the sounds which are represented in the computer as successions of numbers it was necessary to attach a digital-to-analogue converter to the computer. The converter transformed the succession of numbers into a fluctuating voltage which was recorded directly on to audio tape.

The technique used to create the synthetic voices is called speech synthesis-by-analysis. For this method of speech synthesis, only those words, phrases and sentences which have been spoken into the computer previously (via an analogue-to-digital converter) may be synthesized. First the digitally-recorded speech is analyzed by programs which extract the attributes (parameters) of the speech for short time segments (.01 sec.). From these parameters the speech may be recreated in a form which resembles the original recording very closely. But for musical purposes the parameters are most often altered before synthesis. It is possible, for example, to change the natural pitch contour of the speech into a melodic line or to change the speech speed without altering the natural pitch level.

The variety of musical patterns which may be created from the analytic parameters is limited only by the composer's imagination. Most of the speech sounds on the recording were created by changing the pitch and duration attributes of the original on resynthesis, but for a few, the resonances (the formants) of the speech were altered as well. The voice of the book in The Story of Our Lives was created by replacing the program which simulates the sound of the human vocal cords with one consisting of 64 sine tones glissandoing at different rates. All the textures in which more than one voice is heard were obtained by mixing the synthetic voices together digitally.

Die Compilation vereint ikonische Tracks aus Tarantinos gesamtem filmischen Werk: von Pulp Fiction über Kill Bill bis Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Mit dabei sind musikalische Größen wie Dick Dale, Johnny Cash, Joe Tex, The Coasters, The 5.6.7.8"s, Dee Clark, Keith Mansfield und viele mehr. Tarantino Sounds entführt in eine Welt aus Surf-Rock, Soul, Rockabilly und Retro-Vibes - genau wie Tarantino sie liebt und inszeniert.

offerings is a new project from Bruno Silva (Ondness, Serpente) and Gonçalo F. Cardoso (Lagoss, Prophetas, Hannibal Chew III).

Born from a shared obsession with the peripheral—rain puddles, empty city spaces and the flickering crawl of late-night credits—the album occupies a stalled threshold; a space that refuses to resolve into a clear image. It does not strive for the "new" nor the "old"; it exists in a state of suspension, like end credits that refuse to roll, fixed in a permanent noumenal state.

Composed through a frantic exchange of files during the stormy winter of 2026, End Credits Noumena functions as a document of inner domestic spaces. It captures a floating, jam-like camaraderie between two artists with shared fixations and divergent sound palettes. The result is gritty and acetic — a series of random, eerie transmissions that remain strangely inviting. These are offerings, left over for whoever chooses to claim them.

Hatchback is the alias of Samuel Milton Grawe. Sam creates music that sings of the Cosmos, full of deep resonant tones, glistening arpeggios, lush pads and harmonic motifs. ‘Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon’ is his magnum opus, a sprawling masterwork that encompasses ambient, new age and environmental music to wondrous effect. Soaked in Californian consciousness, the album is a balm like no other for these troubled times.

When I first was getting into the creative side of music making in my teens, I was heavily influenced by concept albums like ‘Quadrophenia’ and ‘The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway’, as well as epic pieces that took up an entire side of a record: Pink Floyd’s ‘Echoes’, Yes’ ‘Close To The Edge’, Klaus Schulze’s ‘Nowhere Now Here’, Miles Davis' ‘Shhh/Peaceful’ and ‘He Loved Him Madly’. In the extreme, these ideas coalesced in double albums where each side of each record is occupied by a single title - Yes’ ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’, and Tangerine Dream’s ‘Zeit’ being primary examples. When I returned to making music after moving back to Northern California in 2020, the first piece I recorded landed around the 20-minute mark, and the idea of creating three other long pieces to realize a full album felt like a natural - if indulgent - goal. From there, each new piece followed sequentially. Four songs. My fourth album. - Sam Grawe

‘Phaser For The Ocean Chorus For The Moon’ is a pure expression, informed by a lifetime of deep listening unbound by algorithms or AI.
These are songs for the sunrise and the sunset - and every colour in between.

a 01. And The Walls Became The World All Around [18:53]
[b] 02. Phaser For The Ocean, Chorus For The Moon [21:48]
[c] 03. Other Desert Cities [20:19]
[d] 04. Friendship Fountain [18.33]

Michaela Turcerová’s compositions unfold in slow motion. The saxophonist and composer’s glacial music zeroes in on the granularities of each note as it rings, soaking in every subtle shift in texture and pitch.

Šumum exemplifies this patient approach to writing music, branching out from themes of loss and togetherness into an intricate tapestry of introspective sound. These four pieces invite deep collaboration between performers, who together shape the music through the shared process of listening and interpreting Turcerová’s relatively open scores. And while these works often grow from long, stretched-out tones, they also foreground forward direction: no note stays in one place, no melody is without action. Instead, Šumum chronicles how the tiniest shifts can lead to major transformation.

Šumum builds from Turcerová’s longheld interests in place and minimalism. Many of the composer’s works explore perception: how a room can shape the music we hear, and how repetition alters a melody. Like the music of Éliane Radigue, Šumum embraces the rainbow of colors that appear when close listening with the wave-like flow of looped melodic and rhythmic patterns. All the album’s pieces observe the subtle changes that happen as music grows.

Group communication yields the constant evolution that defines Šumum. The album feels like a conversation, with each instrumentalist swapping phrases or trading places when the moment feels right. “Straty” builds from a series of strongly accented drones that appear as quickly as they fade away; underneath them is a perpetual rhythm that drives the color of each long held note, from melancholy into radiance and back again. With “Vlny,” pitch eventually disappears, leaving a delicate rhythm, and with “Masy,” a matrix of brassy tones link together and eventually burst. No matter where the music goes, one thing remains true: Šumum invites close listening, and in the process, reveals the beauty of continual motion.

Sometimes an album title arrives like a voice from across time. For Johanna Samuels, Sorry, Kid began as a message to her younger self, part apology and part recognition. Gathering songs written as far back as 2007 alongside newer work, the album bridges nearly two decades of lived experience.

The record holds 70s tones without leaning on them, drawing from a lineage of melody and restraint while staying fully alive in its own time. It feels lived in, steady, and quietly powerful, like something finally understood without needing to be explained. The result is intimate and fully realized, songs that began as questions now settling into something like resolution.

Fiat Lux return with Desire & Belief, their third album of new material this millennium, following their acclaimed comeback LPs Saved Symmetry and Twisted Culture. The trio—Steve Wright, Will Howard, and David P Crickmore—combine modern production with vintage synths and instruments rooted in their Polydor-era beginnings to craft ten tracks that span cinematic atmospheres, synth-pop anthems, and moody electronica. Tracks like "Clear Sky " and "Turn Me Around" offer hook-laden synth-pop, while "Summer Solstice " and "Am I Dreaming " delve into ambient and darker tones. Desire & Belief is a natural progression for Fiat Lux—retaining the spirit of their 1980s Northern roots in synth, goth, and indie, yet confidently stepping into new sonic territory for long-time fans and new listeners alike. RIYL: Blancmange, OMD, Scary Thieves, Tears For Fears