Search:all that we see or seem

“Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” This quote from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe sums up the lamenting, primal work that is "All That We See or Seem"; a project conceived between Finland, England and Brazil. The self-titled album consists of two long-form pieces of droning mysticism hailing from the trio of Gruth (concept, production, electronics), Ellen Southern (vocals, field recordings, percussion) and Johanna Puuperä (violin, modular synthesizer, additional vocals).

The album opens straight into a thousand yard stare with “Myrskymielellä", adapted from a 1891 poem by the Finnish national poet, Eino Leino, who wrote it at the tender age of 13. Here a blank distant droning of synths and the sounds of flowing water hover underneath like a dark river observed from the air. This is a sound and feeling that will stay constant for the entirety of the piece´s thirty minute duration. It is a trance-inducing composition that slowly unfolds elements of pagan ancestry into its own life. At first, faint female vocals are introduced as distant spatial elements, which gradually advance into waves of cries and anguish as the piece progresses and moves further into the storm. The tranquility of the first half is slowly morphed into a full blown ceremony as driving ritualistic percussion and a foreboding witch-like presence shifts the piece into a Dead Can Dance-like territory. Here a constant enveloping mixture of violins, modular synths, field recordings and vocal screams creates the feeling of a grande finale. It is an astounding piece of music that develops like a drone symphony for the beginning of time.

With the second piece, “A Dream Within A Dream”, from Edgar Allan Poe´s 1849 poem, you are transported to the shores of an undisclosed island; a place where it´s only you, your thoughts and the endless emptiness. The continual sound of waves is soon brought together with a cloud of synths and mourning violins that will keep a steady dreamlike state during most of the piece´s duration. This time the wordless vocals feel almost angelic in their pageantry. The composition flows like a slow caress of the soul and feels like the spirit twin of Gavin Bryars' “The Sinking of the Titanic” with its lamenting slow movements towards the unknown.

Truly a ghost of a record, “All That We See or Seem” is an experience hard to shake and feels like entering sacred ground. We are in a place surrounded by earth, both ancient and present. "Let loose, Vanha, the rage of an earthly storm! Detach the elements, completely open the sky! In the Earth, let an incessant storm prevail, so that in my chest I would not feel the miserable pain” - Eino Leino

For the label's latest, Oath is proud to present 'Honey Tangerine', the newest mini-album from producer extortionaire Olsvangèr, who serves up his signature blend of hyper-kinetic, ever-shifting dance music.

Olsvangèr's sound and musical journey are forever rooted in the liminal spaces that make up the broad-reaching and ever-shifting electronic music landscape, with his records consistently channeling that in-betweenness that imprints lasting impressions. A classically trained musician with a profound passion for house and techno, Olsvangèr's sonic palette is one of both broad and delicate brush strokes, applying an array of compelling motifs within amorphous arrangements that blend and blur perspectives. His records seek out the faraway fringes as much as focusing on the intensity found in the detail, creating cavernous soundscapes that are impeccably tuned and effortlessly free-flowing. Seemingly genreless, his records are anchored in all that is known and loved, yet due to the music's perspective situated at the intersectionality of electronica, a beautiful anticipation resides within every stanza of his tracks at what may come next. His musical language has found him releasing on the likes of Kalahari Oyster Cult, Hooj Choons and Craigie Knowes, and follows through within his imprint Tofistock, which has been pushing some of the most forward-thinking dance music of recent times.

'Honey Tangerine' touches upon the classic motifs of Olsvangèr's sound, and as always, the room for growth within the record's parameters remains truly endless. Over six tracks, Olsvangèr lays bare the directions of travel, with paths unravelling that feel well trodden yet with some that branch out towards new horizons. 'Source of Thought' opens up proceedings with a captivating ambience, where twinkling hues and lively tones paint the parameters of sound. The chuggy breaks that land deep within the mix drop in and out of view, allowing a deft balance between pure ambiance and rhythm to exchange dialogue between one another. 'In a Nutshell' shifts gears in atmosphere and energy, with all eyes placed upon the club. The shifting rhythm section lifts the acidic melodic features up above, with driving bass notes and a euphoric vocal like lead linking the depths to the heavens. 'Tulpa Nine' swings into heads-down territory, where the drums swing slow and the throbbing bass hits heavy. The auto-tune vocal line up above creates an atmosphere of hazy, smoke-filled rooms, where the party yearns for downtime in anticipation of the next shift in energy.

'Sunrise on the Lips' gives over further chill out room vibrations, where the lights remain low, and smiles reside all around. The enriching drums provide the basis for sitars and glossy keys to glide across the top ends, with the mind invited to dip deep within this enthralling ensemble. 'Zoom It Out' provides the release into the room, with the ante upped. A breaky house leaning number, this cut grooves through its chiming melodic section and groove-laden bass line, with the polyrhythmic drumming pattern doing much to keep the energy residing very high indeed. The record is wrapped up with 'Some Air', which gives over one final jaunt through the airy, slowed-down slipstreams. A wondrous beat is complemented by melodic elements that chime, absorb and quiver, glowing through the night with such charm and feel. An engrossing composition that demonstrates what Olsvangèr is all about - a crafter of sound, where adventure is sought and found, never wavering but curating new connections, feelings, and tones, with an eye on what might come next.

Whether softly undulating or boundlessly expressive, Olsvangèr's music remains a beautiful enigma that serves up both the glorious knowns and the captivating unknowns - 'Honey Tangerine' is yet another chapter in his glorious discography.

While composing the music for The Juniper Tree, Hirano drew on her own memories of touring Iceland, which included a stop at a waterfall featured in the film and rendered in sound on “Mother’s Path.” Folktales, like the origins of The Juniper Tree, are often attempts to contend with humans’ place in the natural world, with all its mysteries and intricacies, and both the film and Hirano’s soundtrack draw their sense of breathless wonder in part from the sensation of being engulfed by one’s environment. Margit, played by Björk, possesses a sublime sensitivity to her environment that allows her to receive messages from her mother, who was murdered for their shared inheritance of witchcraft. Hirano captures the relationship between the transcendental awe that is felt as supernatural and the private feelings of being immersed in that experience, creating a musical dialogue between the self and what lies beyond.

In the final sentences of her liner notes describing the film’s philosophical and feminist throughlines, Anna Bogutskaya says, “what we call Margit’s witchcraft is maybe just her willingness to listen.” This is the magic of music, and Hirano composes with an alchemist’s pen. Just as Keene seems to break down barriers between binary poles, Hirano uses both electronic and acoustic means to communicate the film’s emotive cues, uniting approaches she has explored under her own name and the alias MimiCof. There is an understanding that stillness can be understood as peaceful or foreboding, that dissonance and consonance are contextual, that efforts to protect one’s own kin can lead to tragic ends. At the film’s end we see Margit enthralled with birdsong, understanding it as something deeper, a connection to those she has lost. Through sound, we understand what lies beyond sight, beyond convention, and with this new soundtrack we hear the story anew.

2026 Repress

December 2012 I showed up totally exhausted in Vancouver BC after touring stupidly and relentlessly for however many straight months and got a job at a call centre raising money for the Red Cross. It was a scent free office but one time this woman cooked a piece of fish in the microwave for 10 minutes on low and hot boxed the whole office - we got sent home early no pay. There was the other woman I named the Call Centre Coltrane because her pitch and routine usually involved improvised flights of fancy that went off in both directions at once somehow landing back down with a credit card number and a donation. I used to sleep under the desk. I was there a few months and at the time I reconnected with John Brennan who I had played with briefly in Montreal at the Mutek Festival. In Montreal John was running an experimental music night at a burrito shop downtown called Garbage Night. While in Vancouver I began connecting with the music scene there and would go hang out with the Shearing Pinx lads who I think lived with Sydney the bass player at the time. I knew Nic and Jer from an AIDS Wolf Tour and was so stoked to get to know them both better. I really fell in love with that era of Vancouver's music scene.
Fast Forward to today. 2024
Actually it was the dying days of 2023 but you get it and John asks if I'll sit in with Earth Ball and I keep thinking about Earth Balance, the vegan butter everyone eats here. I brought my aching bones and my ipads on the beautiful ferry named the Queen of Oak Bay and out to Nanaimo BC, home of the nanaimo bar (a dessert treat - special to this region - that seems to be more popularly found under the weird glass sneeze guards in office building deli's out east in Ontario.... anyhoops ). No one in Nanaimo wants to talk to me about the famous treat. I asked a couple of people. Silence. Nanaimo is like London, Ontario but more fried and by the sea. The town is filled with blown out old sea dawgs with tin coffee pots and loose leaf tobacco, then there's the usual streetfolk you find in this part of the Canadian Pacific Northwest and a bunch of bohemians who I guess have left Vancouver behind - that fine city having become uninhabitable for those not making over 100k a year. And then up the way are all the retirees.
Yup Nanaimo is a strange one. They mined the shit out of this region and Nanaimo is surely haunted by those buried in mining shafts or maimed by the heavy machinery or blown up by accident in the explosives store house. And when Earth Ball fire up the amps in Izzy and Jer's basement you can hear the voices of the ghosts hum through electrical lines and out the speakers, Kellen's hued feedback, Izy's sturdy basslines, Jer's paperbag guitar tone and rumble pack zaps, Liam's (aka the Kid) sheets of sound and Brennen's multidirectional drums.
You wouldn't guess Earth Ball was auto-composing and from what my rat brain can tell - the lyrics are improvised too...Improvising lyrics and singing them is the hardest thing to do in all of music.. Izzy and Jer are pros. And their attitudes are pro too.
The live show is scorched and without naming names they've been known to make headliners nervous. Lucky ones will get to see them live as they tour this beast of a record entitled ‘It’s Yours’ (out May 17th on Upset The Rhythm) and I hope I'm one of them.
But now you, fan of fun but totally fucked up music, have the opportunity to Ball with them thanks to Upset The Rhythm. Enjoy
-Alex Moskos, Montreal QC, Feb 2024

The latest release from Rainbow Disco Club’s label imprint, Beyond Space And Time, is the debut compilation from The Melting Hours, a live project by Wata Igarashi and Kuniyuki. WataIgarashi continues to make his mark on the history of techno, whilst Kuniyuki has long been revered as one of Sapporo’s greatest treasures. The two artists, who have long held mutual respect for one another, met whilst performing at the Draaimolen Festival 2025, and this encounter gave rise to The Melting Hours.

‘Blue Sun’ is imbued with a freshness reminiscent of the ambient jazz masterpieces released by prestigious labels such as ECM and Windham Hill. ‘Liquid Dunes’ sees the organic tones of the flute and percussion melt into over ten minutes of abstract sound textures, whilst the breathtaking ‘Cloud Touch’ awakens amidst a swirling vortex of pulsating downbeats and arpeggios. It is said that ‘Blue Sun’ was created by reconstructing studio rehearsal recordings, whilst ‘Liquid Dunes’ and ‘Cloud Touch’ were crafted from live recordings at Draaimolen 2025. The essence of these works—and indeed of the project The Melting Hours itself—lies at the heart of their improvisational nature.

It brings to mind the Rainbow Disco Club event back in 2026, where they wove their sounds amidst fresh greenery and surrounded by listeners under a clear blue sky. It felt as though the pulsating energy was spreading across the dance floor, guided by a session from The Melting Hours that seemed almost like a living creature. The organic breath one senses in this work not only evokes precisely that scene but also allows us to feel the unique, ephemeral nature inherent in this project—and, consequently, the boundless possibilities that stem from it.

Rainbow Disco Club のレーベル・ライン'Beyond Space And Time'から放たれる最新作は、Wata IgarashiとKuniyukiによるライブ・プロジェクト、The Melting Hoursによる初の音源集だ。テクノ史に残る実績を現在進行形で刻み続けているWata Igarashi、長きに渡り札幌の至宝として尊敬を集めてきたKuniyuki。兼ねてよりリスペクトを送り合ってきた両名がDraaimolen Festival 2025への出演を契機に邂逅し、始動したプロジェクトがThe Melting Hoursである。

ECMやWindham Hillといった名門レーベルのアンビエント・ジャズ傑作群を彷彿とさせる瑞々しさを湛えた"Blue Sun"。10分以上に渡るアブストラクトなサウンド・テクスチャーの中にフルートや鳴り物のオーガニックな音色が溶ける"Liquid Dunes"と、そして鳴動するダウンビートとアルペジオの渦に覚醒する圧巻の"Cloud Touch"。"Blue Sun"はスタジオでのリハーサル音源を、"Liquid Dunes"と"Cloud Touch"はDraaimolen 2025のライヴ音源を、それぞれ再構築し楽曲化したものだという。これらの作品、ひいてはThe Melting Hoursというプロジェクト自体のエッセンスは、その即興性を核としている。

WataとKuniyukiがゼロから音を立ち上げ、お互いのエレクトロニクス/生楽器を操る技術、それぞれエレクトロニック・ミュージック以前にフリージャズやニューウェイヴ/インダストリアル等に傾倒した時期を含む、音楽家としての半生を持ち出し合う感覚。そこに、例えばDraaimolen出演時に降り出した雨や、リハーサル時にスタジオに迷い込んだ蜂のような、外的かつ偶発的な要因、感情やムードの起伏までもが絡み合う様相。互いの予想を越えるスリルの中で曲が形づくられるプロセスこそが、この作品とプロジェクトを特別なものとしているのだという。

快晴の元で新緑とリスナーに囲まれ音を紡いでいった、去る2026年のRainbow Disco Clubを思い出す。まるで、生き物のようなThe Melting Hoursによるセッションに導かれ、脈動するエネルギーがフロアに伝播していたようだった。この作品から感じられる有機的な息遣いは、まさにそんな情景を思い起こすものであると同時に...このプロジェクトが宿すその場/その時限りの唯一無二性と、それ故に広がっていく限りない可能性をも感じさせてくれる。

Kukangendai are the innovative three-piece Kyoto based experimental rock band formed in 2006 with Junya Noguchi on guitar and vocals, Keisuke Koyano on bass, and Hideaki Yamada on drums. Since 2016 the band have set up shop in their studio and venue space, Soto, which houses an incredibly well tuned and powerful sound system that has become a well known destination for touring musicians. In March of 2025, Marionette was celebrating a belated 10 years of activity with label showcases across Japan in collaboration with Dotei Records, and Soto was inevitably one of the stops as many label alumni have set foot in the venue over the years. This is where I got to experience Kukangendai perform for the very first time and knew right then we were destined to work together.

Kukangendai embody an undeniable sense of timing and precision through collage-like repetition of minimalist phrases that manifest as a single unified rhythm. Their latest offering for Marionette, titled Baquet Wheel, is a purely acoustic endeavor, remarkably recorded live using Taku Unami's special binaural microphone. The trio seamlessly twist polyrhythms and melodies rooted in jazz, krautrock, blues, and Tuareg producing a timeless sound that preserves the primitive and memory evoking narratives buried deep within the music. Over the course of five tracks, the visceral nature of Kukangendai’s dynamic evolves from playful riffs that are seemingly familiar yet strikingly original, making it impossible to discern exactly when this material was conceived.

Kukangendai have maintained a prolific yet relatively low profile for the last two decades, with a handful of self-released editions on their own labels (Soto and Leftbrain) as well as a collaborative album with pioneering electronic music composer Ryuichi Sakamoto in 2018, then venturing outside Japan in 2019 to release their first widely distributed album on Ideologic Organ, a label curated by Sunn O)))’s Stephen O'Malley. Other collaborative projects to date include an album produced with rap group Moe and ghosts, live performances with Keiji Haino and with poet Gozo Yoshimasu, productions with the Chiten theater company, and most recently a remix album of their works featuring Carl Stone and Madteo.

180g Heavy double vinyl LP with liner notes by Tyran Grillo. Limited Japanese Obi for the first pressing. Original artwork by Russell Mills and photography by Jean-Baptiste Mondino.

The third Time Capsule is a body of dub reinterpretations by celebrated producer Bill Laswell of Ethiopian singer Gigi. Curated by Tokyo record collector, music researcher and seasoned reissue supervisor Ken Hidaka, it is the first time Illuminated Audio is pressed to vinyl after its CD release in 2003.

Ejigayehu Shibabaw was born in 1974 in Chagni, northwestern Ethiopia and by pursuing a career as a singer, went against her father’s strict, traditional gender roles. As Gigi, she embraced the same musical freedom she had strived for in her personal life, incorporating the Ethiopian church, funk, hip-hop, West and South African music into her work. She first settled in Nairobi, then Addis Ababa, where she quickly established herself as one of the city’s leading singers. A move to San Francisco in 1998 led to a long and fruitful creative partnership with bassist and producer Bill Laswell.

Around the same time, Chris Blackwell had stepped away from Island Records to start the art house film company and label Palm Pictures. He took an interest in Gigi and together with Laswell, pulled together an all-star cast of musicians for her self-titled US debut album, including Herbie Hancock, Pharoah Sanders and Wayne Shorter. It won international critical acclaim, not just for its musicianship but for making Gigi a “defining voice for the Ethiopian expatriate community”, as journalist Tyran Grillo praises in his Time Capsule liner notes. From the nation-defining 1896 victory over Italian invaders to the quiet revolutionaries who wear simple shemma garments, Grillo believes the themes in Gigi make it “a shower of sunlight on her homeland for those ignorant of its struggles.”

After its success, Blackwell encouraged them to go back into the studio to rethink the album and Illuminated Audio was born. “Anyone can make a voice sound worldly”, Grillo remarks, “but rare are those who can make one sound inner-worldly.” Gigi was clear with Laswell to give her vocals a minor role “because it’s already been done.” Instead her Amharic verse is fleeting, exhaling through the textures like ghostly fragments; soaring yet muted. Yet the album is still titled under her name, an assertion by Laswell of her central role in the album’s creation. Not only was it a fully endorsed project by Gigi, but she would be present throughout its development, giving feedback on half-finished ideas as Laswell played them back in the studio. “It works perfectly”, she reflected after the album’s release. “We wanted to capture the whole spirit of each track, and Bill’s remixes create a different music language that really puts you in a pleasant place”.

This new vocabulary takes its lead from a technical approach that Laswell had been perfecting during a furtive creative period at the turn of the millennium. Much like his ambient interpretations of Miles Davis (Panthalassa, 1998), Bob Marley (Dreams of Freedom, 1997), and Carlos Santana (Divine Light, 2001), Laswell approached Illuminated Audio by returning to the original multitrack masters. Gigi wasn’t just reworked, but recomposed into an expansive lattice of instruments, submerged in a watery ambience of dub and trance undercurrents.

Sonically, this new language that Gigi refers to, is manifested by the original album’s more understated parts being pushed to the fore. Explaining his contrasting methods, Laswell saw Gigi as being “put together in a way that fits”. Contrastingly, in Illuminated Audio, “a lot of things that I featured in the remix weren’t as audible in the original.” Instrumentation laying near-dormant, deep in the mix, are brought to the fore: the acid rock guitar and Wayne Shorter’s saxophone on ‘Tew Ante Sew’, Graham Haynes’ flugelhorn on ‘Nafekeñ’, Laswell’s bass on ‘Kahn’, the melodica in Mengedegna or the floating synths and talking drums in ‘Gud Fella’.

Brought to his attention by mentor DJ Nori, Hidaka describes Illuminated Audio as a “masterful sonic exploration into ethereal ambience and dub” and made sure this reissue also contained a full remaster to give its “deep musicality” much better dynamics and density in the overall sound. Hidaka admits that Laswell's music “is sometimes so out-there, it is often misunderstood” and, indeed, to dub album non-believers this might seem like a prolific producer imposing himself on another artist’s work; eternally developing rearrangements that never quite get to its destination. But that’s missing its true power and triumph. This is more than the reissue of a remix, but “a wholly unique musical entity”, as Hidaka describes. Illuminated Audio refers to the illuminated manuscripts that comprise the major part of Ethiopian art and its new compositions stand in proud solitude as a rare body of reworks that both informs and enhances their originals.

Ruminant Records looks back at the corners of American rave music that lived on the dancefloor, in record bags, and in local clubs. Dwelling on music from the past and bringing it into the present, the label is as much about where these records can go now as where they come from.

For its first release, Ruminant celebrates the music of the late DJ Dic on the North Carolinian Hoodwink Records imprint. Filled with the untamed possibilities of the early breaks scene, the tracks’ playfulness, color, and ecstasy mix easily onto the dance floors of the present.

The A-side starts with DJ Dic’s “All A Dream,” blurring the lines between breaks and machine funk. Continually shifting and coming into focus, a narcotic vocal repeats “do you remember, I thought you were there” before the track takes a turn for the liquid, opening into something symphonic, cinematic and joyous. Just as it seems to have reached transcendent bliss, the vocal returns whispering in your ear and lulling you into euphoria.

It’s met with a new remix from Kyoto’s Stones Taro, who pulls the track around a feverish refrain and driving break, its pulsating regularity tightening the original into something dizzying, immediate, and built for the club.

If the A-side is exuberant, the B-side begins with a warning. “Hypnotize” is disciplined, tight and hard, its rhythmic coolness slowly sucking you into a vacuum without space or time. The listener is lost, but willingly so for the seduction is the point. Hypnotize indeed.

The Johnny Cage Procrastination Mix takes those same threatening undertones and lets some air back in, filling the space with bounce, drips and a playful silliness. Synth-laden and fun without losing the original’s edge, it brings some of the A-side’s exuberance back around and closes the record where it began.

Confronting 2026, hope can seem in short supply, as the most divisive and toxic voices worldwide are amplified amidst an ever-rising temperature of conflict and alienation, yet hope is abundant in ‘Losey’, the latest release on Rocket Recordings from the mercurial duo Gnoomes. Just as this couple have taken a bold step into the unknown by leaving Russia and moving to Slovenia, so their music has thrown off all shackles to flourish in a defiant show of vibrant and revivifying colour. “The life of an immigrant is a strange thing.” says the bands Sasha Piankov “But luckily, that glow music brings us has never faded, even though the emotional landscape has definitely shifted.” Yet whilst the music that Sasha and his creative and life partner Masha Piankova came up with is testimony to a liberating triumph against oppression and adversity, it also goes beyond. What has emerged is a kaleidoscopic collision of styles which sends the ‘skygazing’ realm of their previous work spinning into electronic orbit. Whilst the opener ‘Foreign Agent’ explicitly tackles the pressures of the Russian state, it also throws a Stereolab-style motorik meditation through an in-the-red psychedelic prism. Elsewhere we can behold Bulgakov and Chris and Cosey as bedfellows amidst the mesmeric, 303-fried EBM of ‘Satan’s Ball’.
“Rave as therapy. Pop as resistance. Love as endurance. ADHD as a production technique.” These are the primary ingredients of Losey, by the reckoning of the band themselves. This is an album that exists purely on its own distinct frequency, driven by defiance and positivity. Losey is a soundtrack to set fire to the old order, the better to dance in the glow.

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Familiar. Usually reserved for things we think we know. A face, a place, a feeling, a record perhaps. Until, of course, they aren’t quite the same anymore. Or maybe you aren’t.
Jennifer’s debut album lives somewhere around there.
It’s a record about time, which is already a fairly ambitious subject considering nobody seems to have figured that one out yet. More specifically, it’s about what
time does to a person. The old versions, the new versions, and all the ones in between that you only notice when something suddenly brings them back. Someone you
haven’t seen in years. A room you used to know. A certain way the light falls. That sort of thing.

There’s a bit of a doppelgänger situation going on, too. Finding something completely new and somehow recognising it. Meeting yourself again without immediately realising who you’re talking to.
Which can be nice. Or strange. Usually both. The songs on Familiar sit comfortably with that contradiction. Looking backwards without wanting to go back. Missing things without necessarily wanting them
returned. Realising that people who once occupied most of your waking hours can become people whose address you don’t know. Meanwhile, some tiny, seemingly irrelevant detail from fifteen years ago remains perfectly intact.
Memory has its own filing system. Not a particularly sensible one.
Jennifer wrote a series of poems alongside the album. In them, familiarity appears in melting snow, rough coastlines, a kitchen already warm in the morning, somebody’s hands fitting into yours. Elsewhere she wonders about someone she
once knew everything about and now knows nothing about. They could live around the corner. They could live on another continent. They could, technically, be dead. Probably not. But that’s time for you.
Maybe Familiar is less about remembering who you were than realising you never entirely stopped being them. Things get added. Things disappear. Things come back looking slightly different.
And somehow, you recognise them.

The title of Ghost Bridge, the East-Coast-spanning chamber ensemble Hour's fifth record, is less metaphorical than one might expect. Bandleader Michael Cormier- O'Leary repurposed it from an unrealized movie concept about a bridge that inexplicably starts disappearing. On the nearly-ten-minute title track of this richly imaginative suite of songs_written for a 13-piece ensemble that includes woodwinds, strings, and vibraphone as well as a rock rhythm section_Hour conjures up this central image with spectral string harmonics and free-time percussion gestures. While writing the keyboard pieces that became the takeoff point for the album, Cormier-O'Leary also found himself reflecting on the loss of loved ones or even his own mortality. The six kaleidoscopic instrumental pieces on Ghost Bridge, though, feel more cosmically inquisitive than straightforwardly elegiac, sketching a progression from existential doubt toward understanding and acceptance. Ghost Bridge forms a contrast with Hour's art-rock-informed, more improvisatory early releases, representing a step further into intricate chamber orchestration. Known for his work with Friendship, Wendy Eisenberg, and 2nd Grade, Phillybased multi-instrumentalist and Dear Life Records founder Cormier-O'Leary has made Hour a home for increasingly cinematic instrumental compositions since the mid-2010s. With dazzling production by Lucas Knapp, Ghost Bridge delivers plenty of the live ensemble's trademarks, especially cyclically developing guitar and keyboard melodies. However, even more than on Hour's last studio album, unconventional harmonies and sophisticated counterpoint take center stage here. These emotionally multifaceted compositions feel as rooted in contemporary classical and film soundtrack music as in indie rock. One of the most striking elements of Ghost Bridge is the more significant developmental role the orchestral instruments assume in each piece. Instead of underscoring Cormier-O'Leary's central hooks, there is a new mesmerizing level of detail to the group's conversational interactions and kinetic energy. "Centralia" is a stately and idiosyncratic fugue built from repeated and overlapping phrases, while Ghost Bridge's compositions are full of unexpected pivots in harmony that allow recurring melodic motifs to sound continually reshaded. On "Pearls," the chords modulate drastically around Cormier-O'Leary's inviting central melody in a way that emulates cuts in a film telling several parallel stories. There is an unsettled quality to the chords on Ghost Bridge, with Cormier- O'Leary's progressions avoiding firm grounding in either clearly sunny or melancholy tonalities. This mood is made more concrete by the record's sole vocal track, the jazz-inflected "Sky is Blue," featuring an uncannily gorgeous performance by Heeyoon Won. The song seems to be a communication from a person who has departed, offering consolation or perspective to someone left behind. Though its sonic palette is often tranquil, Ghost Bridge explores heartbreak, grief, anger, and helplessness in a distinct and pretense-free way. The project represents a bold step forward for Cormier-O'Leary as a composer and arranger, and on Ghost Bridge Hour reaches its most fully realized form to date, connecting soaring themes with an inventiveness that perfectly suits the searching nature of the subject matter.

Cologne based DJ and producer Barnt has been bottling his own weather system since 2010: captivating techno where melodies flirt, rhythms evaporate, and structure is something to tease rather than obey. An attitude, that pierces the average definition of techno. With an album and endless EP’s, he turned club orthodoxy inside out. Barnt has sent his tracks out via labels like Cómeme, Mule Musiq, Hinge Finger, Hivern Discs, Kompakt, or Magazine from Cologne, the enterprise he co-runs with a bunch of friends.

After his 2014 debut album on Magazine, that came out as catalogue number 13, Barnt is back with number 25, a new album, titled “After completing the Hex”. Eleven tracks, each grinding lowkey skewed. This is techno for dramatic entrances. Dance music for confusion. Freely played chords oscillate with intention. Alluring melodies glide across stoic beats. Peaktime vibes stripped to the bone. An album that provides Barnt’s most complete release until today, displaying his unique sound world effortless assembled. Mastered by longtime accomplice, producer Matt Karmil, it features playful, seemingly unintentional, meandering club spirits. There are melodies made from 100 notes and hooklines fashioned from just one. In-between calmer electric enchanters, minimal, free-spirted, tempting. His slinky madness occasionally presents sublimely embedded environmental sounds or oral samples, taken from sources like Torn Hawk’s “Trustfall” TTT cassette album. There is a touch of sadness, that veils the recordings at times, always defied by lightness and optimism. A record made with true inspiration, that overrides all fears. Drawn frankly from emotions, bringing the ultimate flow state, that unlocks a new techno gate.

Repress!

When Network Records originally issued “Innovator” in 1991 we knew that the music contained within was timeless. At that time, of course, we had no grasp of how well Derrick’s epic soundscapes would time travel. We christened the collection - “Soundtrack For The Tenth Planet” - because it seemed like the music (and Derrick) had indeed arrived from another world.

The release has been acclaimed as iconic because Derrick, the madcap and maverick philosopher of Detroit Techno, introduced the concept of dance music with a musical and emotional agenda way beyond anything that had come before. Beats with beauty. Literally the strings of life. Where fellow musical geniuses Chic had previously urged everybody to simply "Dance, Dance, Dance" mood alchemist Mayday merged simple yet cerebral dreamscapes with strange and urgent complex dance rhythms and invited us all to Dance And Dream. And in a strange juxtaposed way helped birth the hedonistic Acid House scene with classics “Nude Photo” and “Strings Of Life”

The energy is frenetic, but merged with a new age ambience. The gems collected on this offering were iconic in 1991, now they cause mass hysteria when Derrick turns his one time musical experiments, created in a tiny room in Detroit, and turns them into epic concerts with orchestras and musicians across the globe. “Hand In Hand” existed in 1991 and we wanted to release it then, but it’s taken until now for the complete 13 minute recording to finally meet the world.
It will be revered, because like all of Derrick May’s music it is life affirming. Emotions Electric indeed.

The original “Innovator” release was housed on one single slab of wax. This time around we have expanded it to two discs to make space for “Hand Over Hand” and also so everything elsewhere - masterpieces remastered - can be presented in a complete and superior fashion. Whatever the tweaks, changes and updates etc all these years on, this music still sounds gloriously alien and groundbreaking. But there’s still no Tenth Planet.

"Innovator" remastered by Curvepusher, London 2019. Re-presented by Network Records in conjunction with Derrick May.

Since starting Bytes in 2019 we’ve fielded a lot of messages along the lines of, “Is this ever going to be released on vinyl?” The bulk of these requests have concerned remixes of artists on Bytes done by Andy Bell (RIDE/Oasis) under his electronic alter-ego GLOK. And on realising that he has done four for us now (Franz Kirmann, Steve Queralt & Michael Smith, Herrmann Kristoffersen and Seagoth), it seemed silly not to compile them all together on a four-track 12” EP. The super limited edition 12” is on black wax and comes in the original Bytes house bag with a vinyl sticker containing all the release info signed by Andy. Edition of 250. No repress.

A1. SOLITARY (GLOK REMIX) - FRANZ KIRMANN

The first remix Andy ever did for Bytes was a radical reworking of ‘Solitary’, the towering ambient closer to Franz Kirmann’s ‘Madrapour’ album, which was released on Bytes in 2019. Andy’s remix is a heartbreaking, melancholic 3am banger. This is one for fans of Four Tet and Jon Hopkins, a slowburner with billowing plumes of distortion that builds towards an ecstatic rush of a finale.

A2. CHALDEAN ORACLE (GLOK REMIX) - STEVE QUERALT & MICHAEL SMITH

In 2023 Andy took ‘Chaldean Oracle’, a track from the collaboration between his RIDE bandmate Steve Queralt and the writer Michael Smith, down the K-Hole, eschewing Michael’s vocal almost entirely and turning in a Detroit dub-techno monster with echoes of Bandulu and Carl Craig in its shimmering melodies, eerie distortion and pounding drums.



B1. GONE GOLD (GLOK REMIX) - HERRMANN KRISTOFFERSEN

‘Gone Gold’ was the title track of the excellent second album by ambient-techno group Herrmann Kristoffersen (2021). Andy taps deep into the dub at the heart of the original, with echoes of John Carpenter's soundtracks and his own extended electronic excursions under the GLOK moniker.



B2. ETERNITY (GLOK REMIX) - SEAGOTH

It was Andy who brought Seagoth to the attention of Bytes when he played ‘Eternity’ on his Soho Radio show in 2020. It all came full circle when Bytes released ‘Eternity’ as a single in 2021, with a stunning remix by Andy in his GLOK guise on the flip. Andy strips the track back to showcase the resonant vocal in all its glory before the blissed-out outro that makes full use of the track’s dancefloor-friendly drum break.

Yesca is back on Shall Not Fade with ‘Paint on Walls’ 12” EP.

2024’s Yesca EP on SNF - “Mood Loops” - set a high bar, so when we say this record is something special you should take note. Of course if you already know Yesca’s music or have had the pleasure of a Yesca DJ set then you will have already this queued up.

Sweet Spot: Ben Sims, Deetron, Oliver Ho, Vince Watson, Grain (Artwork’s Techno alias). Planet-E, Primate Recordings, Paul Mac & Stimulus Recordings found the sweet spot.

According to the OED the first use of the phrase “Sweet Spot” was in 1976 in reference to tennis rackets and golf swings. It’s where everything hits just right. And that’s what this EP does, hits just right. What strikes me is how descriptive the phrase ‘Sweet Spot’ is. Given enough swings and some luck we all know what it feels like to hit the sweet spot in some regard. Finding the sweet spot regularly though takes time and skill. But being able to hit the sweet spot by design every time, well that’s something different. That’s what makes the greats great.

For us at SNF there’s a consensus that in the lineage of electronic music there have been many moments where artists & labels converged on a sweet spot. One such sweet spot for us is in Techno
around 2003 when at the tail end of Hardgroove tempos began to slow and a groovier more refined tech house infused goodness appeared in the racks from a group of killer techno labels & artists (some mentioned above) that moment before the fuller emergence of the 2nd wave of Tech House in the mid 00’s.

That sound, while often emulated, never quite hit the same for us at least – until Yesca came along. His music has everything that we love about that sweet spot. Raw driving groove, rolling basslines and hip shaking percussion. What’s different on ‘Paint on Walls’ is that Yesca stepped on - he had already found the sweet spot on 2024’s Mood Loop EP - now his sound (or swing) is natural. Repeatable, refined and seemingly effortless. To revisit the tennis and golf analogy, this is the start of a Grand Slam run from an artist ready to etch their name in dance music history. Tiger..... Serena......Yesca.

Run the Tracks:
‘How I Do It (They Wonder)’ - A masterclass in less is more, and a serious DJ tool. Full of groove - slow it down and it will light the touchpaper in a house set - speed it up and you’ve got techno weaponry. Forget gatekeeping, this will make you feel like you just found a 2004 techno white label from the likes of Grain or Ben Sims.

‘I Desire’ - House music that I reckon Deetron would be proud of... Blissed out machine funk, whispered vocals, slick jazzy chords and dubbed out techno stabs are all grounded by Yesca’s impeccable, loopy drum programming. The best tunes always end too soon.

‘Domination’ - The ever rising bass, err, dominates this track and this track will dominate on many a dancefloor, but Yesca's knack for dubbed out swinging synth lines has to get a shout out here too. He turns what would be melodic elements into what feels like part of the percussion. Double Threat. Hands Up and Heads Down business.

‘Paint on Walls’ - It would be a tough call to say Yesca’s saved the best til last with the EP’s eponymous track given what’s come before, but Paint On Walls works all the highlights from the rest of the EP into a latin techno/house infused anthem. Skittering percussion, a hint of Detroit goodness and a deep deep rolling bassline and THAT vocal. In every way hopeful yet resistant, and that is what techno is all about.

David Norland is an Emmy-nominated English composer, known for his scores for drama and documentary, alongside his experimental choral and electronic music. Bringing stories to life through sound, he received critical acclaim for his debut solo album ‘Glam Tear Stain’ (2019) and is set to release follow-up album ‘La Source’ in June 2026 via Denovali Records.

Relocated back to his London home after many years in Los Angeles, and free from years of drug and alcohol problems, recent commissions for two choral works allowed Norland to return to the innocent origin of his musical world, and his experience as a parent prompted a lot of outward reflection. What kind of world are we leaving to our children?

Inspired by his score to the forthcoming silent black and white film ‘Carousel’ (2026), Norland found other music emerging that refused to be ignored. The film’s director opened the door to an entirely free scoring process – no temp music, no expectation, no guidelines, just pure intuitive expression. ‘La Source’ draws on this experience, alongside his childhood as a touring chorister, the honkytonk upright piano in the north-east London bedroom of his early 20s, his early recording experiments with a TASCAM 4-track cassette recorder, and his intense preoccupation with bells, flutes, stone architecture, and mysticism.

From the haunting, choral beauty of ‘E-Car Soul’ to the breezy album title track, Norland blends minimalist classical structures with electronics. A unified tapestry of blended voices, harmonies and textures, ‘La Source’ is a deeply emotional and melancholic journey for Norland. “In the end, I’m looking to find meaning through the music, like when I was a kid singing in choirs. But I get the most sense of meaning through transcendent experiences, rather than anything intellectual or dogmatic. I have to feel it, not think it. I’m trying to make work that’s luminous, wondrous, shimmering and strange, so I can keep having those experiences,” says Norland.

On his inspiration for the album, Norland adds, “I love making patterns in things and finding patterns. That’s why minimalism was so enticing to me, the patterns are so explicit. I love word play and anagrams. The big sadness coming through as I was making the record is this clarity over the future of my kids. Everything else is a complete distraction. This incredible nurturing planet and its ecosystem are being rapidly destroyed, and the forces destroying it are relentless and punitive. And they seem to be fine with consigning our children to live in an ever-more-hostile wasteland. You can’t pretend that’s not coming, if you do I think you’re lying to yourself. And perhaps eventually it will be the fact that people love their kids that will stir wider fear and action. It’s hard to think of anything more connected to the idea of spirit.” The result is the reflective, ecstatic, mystical and sad world of ‘La Source.’

Norland’s screen work includes the award-winning documentary Anvil! The Story Of Anvil (2008), directed by Sacha Gervasi, and since 2010, he has composed much of the music for US broadcasting giant ABC’s primetime news documentaries. His work for ABC is broadcast in the US and around the world on a daily basis.

In 2012, he was the music supervisor for Hitchcock (2012) featuring Anthony Hopkins, Helen Mirren & Scarlett Johansson and in 2017, he teamed up once again with Gervasi for the score to November Criminals starring Chloe Moretz and Ansel Elgort. The following year, he composed the score for the Emmy-nominated HBO film My Dinner With Herve, starring Peter Dinklage and Jamie Dornan.

Norland will be performing the score of Carousel later this year, and the score itself will be a forthcoming release on Denovali. 2026 will also see the release of documentary All Permits Secured, a valentine to the history of EDM, featuring Norland’s score.

From Richmond, Virginia, Shy, Low have a reputation as one of the most compelling voices within the modern instrumental underground. Their music speaks to fans of post-rock's emotional grandeur and post-metal's crushing intensity alike, while simultaneously appealing to listeners drawn to experimental, atmospheric, and cinematic forms of heavy music. The band's ability to merge these seemingly disparate qualities has resulted in a body of work that is immediately recognizable and continually evolving. Luminous melodies, driving heaviness, layered textures, and carefully controlled tension allows `Purity Spiral' to move effortlessly between fragile moments of introspection and towering passages of intensity. Whether constructing intricate layers of harmony or driving songs toward explosive climaxes, there is a deep understanding of pacing, atmosphere, and the power of restraint. Momentum is at the heart of this album, through intricate rhythmic detail, and explosive bursts of energy, drums become the anchor and catalyst, supporting the band's expansive arrangements while pushing them toward moments of cathartic release. What distinguishes Shy, Low is their ability to balance enormity with restraint. Their music unfolds patiently, allowing tension to accumulate through layers of texture, melody, and dynamics. Moments of delicate clarity often coexist with overwhelming weight, creating a sense of organic motion. At the core of the band's sound lies an acute understanding of contrast. From shimmering, expansive passages to towering walls of distortion, the rhythm section provides both propulsion and atmosphere, becoming integral narrative voices that shape the emotion. There is a disciplined sense of purpose in their writing, an understanding that every note serves a larger arc. Shy, Low thrives in the space between introspection and catharsis, where subtle details become as impactful as the heaviest climaxes, and listeners are taken on a journey that is as visceral as it is profound. FOR FANS OF Caspian * Russian Circles * If These Trees Could Talk * Pelican * Toundra

From Richmond, Virginia, Shy, Low have a reputation as one of the most compelling voices within the modern instrumental underground. Their music speaks to fans of post-rock's emotional grandeur and post-metal's crushing intensity alike, while simultaneously appealing to listeners drawn to experimental, atmospheric, and cinematic forms of heavy music. The band's ability to merge these seemingly disparate qualities has resulted in a body of work that is immediately recognizable and continually evolving. Luminous melodies, driving heaviness, layered textures, and carefully controlled tension allows `Purity Spiral' to move effortlessly between fragile moments of introspection and towering passages of intensity. Whether constructing intricate layers of harmony or driving songs toward explosive climaxes, there is a deep understanding of pacing, atmosphere, and the power of restraint. Momentum is at the heart of this album, through intricate rhythmic detail, and explosive bursts of energy, drums become the anchor and catalyst, supporting the band's expansive arrangements while pushing them toward moments of cathartic release. What distinguishes Shy, Low is their ability to balance enormity with restraint. Their music unfolds patiently, allowing tension to accumulate through layers of texture, melody, and dynamics. Moments of delicate clarity often coexist with overwhelming weight, creating a sense of organic motion. At the core of the band's sound lies an acute understanding of contrast. From shimmering, expansive passages to towering walls of distortion, the rhythm section provides both propulsion and atmosphere, becoming integral narrative voices that shape the emotion. There is a disciplined sense of purpose in their writing, an understanding that every note serves a larger arc. Shy, Low thrives in the space between introspection and catharsis, where subtle details become as impactful as the heaviest climaxes, and listeners are taken on a journey that is as visceral as it is profound. FOR FANS OF Caspian * Russian Circles * If These Trees Could Talk * Pelican * Toundra

Welcome Tori Kudo back to A Colourful Storm with a new edition of Maher Shalal Hash Baz's Faux Départ, a document of a stateside tour that culminated in a recording session at the legendary Dub Narcotic Studio with a one-time ensemble of Greg Saunier and Chris Cohen (Deerhoof), Andrew Maxwell, McCloud Zicmuse, Arrington de Dionyso, Takashi Ueno, Saya Ueno, Naoki Otani, Akiko Hotaka, Masaaki Endo and Naoki Otani. Always spontaneous, never rehearsed. Music in and of this world, seemingly teetering on the verge of collapse.

"We flew to the US for a show with Red Crayola in Los Angeles and initially stayed at Rick Potts' house. There, I met up with The Curtains and hit the road in their car. We headed north, writing down every melody that came to mind. I slept in the gap between the wall and the sofa and got interrupted by a herd of cows along the way, but I finally arrived in Olympia and recorded all the melodies I'd written down, which became Faux Depart. There, I found McCloud, a noble beggar who was sleeping in the studio and playing the bassoon on the street." - Tori Kudo, 2026

"Chris Cohen, who played in Deerhoof from 2001-2006 or so, was an obsessive Maher fan. When our other band, The Curtains, was given a chance to support Maher on a West Coast tour, we got to see up close how Tori leads - often by not leading. He is an unpredictable, wild musical genius and card-carrying eccentric." - Greg Saunier, 2026

Compiled onto one vinyl album for the first time, Landlocked (Numbers, 2026) presents Hallucinator’s 1999 debut album originally released under Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald’s label Chain Reaction. Writing much surrounding the culture of what would be later considered ‘Dub Techno’ and its’ primary distribution center, Hard Wax, leads one down roads of shifting primary sources and decades old overheard smoke break recollections. Maybe brevity primes the listener to the paralinguistic to approach the sound on its terms; focusing on how things are uttered and not what.

This theory will remain unconfirmed. Hallucinator original press release left us with three or so gestures to consider over the years since:

“A new act on CHAIN REACTION”s distinct productional thesis. HALLUCINATOR are 3 people from he UK/London and this their first release ever- that’s all what the artists want to let us know…. This record is dedidacted to the memory of Stephen Lawrence!”

The first gesture is one of personnel. Since ’99, we’ve gotten to learn a bit more about the artists behind the Hallucinator project. All London-based, all writers, composers, and sound-designers— Anna Piva, Edward George, Trevor Mathison. These three seem to flow between parameters as aesthetic tactic and tacit structure to the work itself. For example, other collaborative shapes have come from this lineup including Flow Motion (Piva, George and Mathison) as well as the now defunct Black Audio Film Collective of which George and Mathison are founding members.

The second gesture is in the second line of the previous press release, “distinct productional thesis.” Much of Landlocked’s affect and sequencing seems to suggest an emotional study of entropy at the level of sediment. Rhythms play with space and capacity through polyvalence. The production chose subtractive vertigo, often switching and bringing back in elements that vanished from the track 6 minutes ago. Dubbing out so much of a track, one begins to associate sound akin to memories held in the experience of running your hand across a concrete block as a child. Felt (re)memberance in lieu of narrative tale. Using textures that flicker between colour and percussion, Hallucinator’s 12-tracker of loudspeaker perception music might be a mediation on the psychic wake of the Cold War. Intermittent strata of ambience and groove convects an active margin rifting event underneath a scorched geology of power in Western Europe. Again, this is all grapevine hearsay.

But it’s silence that voices the third gesture. The album’s sparse application of the written word touches on the ennui paradox of being landlocked on an island. Stuck. Trapped in the psychosis of occidental hypercentricism. A looping silence of Black British tragedy: “to the memory of Stephen Lawrence”. 18 year-old Lawrence was stabbed to death at a bus stop in southeast London by six white men in 1993. The rift of grief and implicit reiteration of modern subordination left by this hate act went legally silent for almost two decades until Lawrence’s killers were ultimately sentenced to virtually life in jail in 2012. Only six years removed at the time of Hallucinator’s initial invocation of rememory, the mind-numbing accretion of what Black Studies Professor Denise Ferreira da Silva might call “unpayable debt”, finds demonic ground across Landlocked, forming an aural sense of what continues to be refused.

The album ventures through spaces of overactive non-happenings: ‘Red Angel’’s factory floor dub flashes between smokestack and jungle visions, or the halfway mark’s stilted breath of ‘Dusk’ lending its mood to the sort of sedated dreams built from daily life under colony rule for instance. That linked rhythm links us back to our linked fates across Black and Brown folk is real, thus the syncopated signals through this work behave on the level of transnational radiotelegraphy, sounding out its windswept tension of a body negotiating a meat-grinder schema of linear production and wage for others to know that unspeakable thing can be broadcast in every drum tongue.

As the silence continues to reverb, we return to the sort of meaning-making that cannot be told but felt. Soothing to some, disturbing to others. Landlocked, a Rorschach test for a crumbled empire.

Paraiso has been doing vital work in Portugal - documenting the underground dance scene's history and pioneers in various mediums while also showcasing equally brilliant artists from newer generations. And they've been doing it for a decade now: we all know that a label dedicated to its local scene through and through is something rare and should be celebrated. This compilation 'X - 10 Years of Underground House Music from a Paradise Called Portugal' is a manifestation of that cross-generational spirit, with ten never-before-heard pieces of music by initiators and legends like The Advent alongside more recent veterans like Roundhouse Kick and Vil or younger talent like Phoebe or Van Der. Things start off with Salbany's 'Trax 10', oozing a techno elegance and irrefutable groove that wonderfully portrays the spirit of the Lisbon sound: raw yet ethereal, disarming in its simplicity while containing rave, romance and rhythmic complexities. Label founders Maria Amor & Shcuro firmly carry on the torch with 'Intracellular', gelled by dubby washes, syncopated drums, infectious rhythmic sense and layered with a melodic vocal motif. Vil's 'Cave' brings in stone-cold tight percussion offset by rich, evocative pads and technoid know-how for days. The Advent steps in with an ode to acid-minimalism, raw and slow-burning, with curious and twisted moments peppered with the skill of an expert. Van Der storms in with a piece of hybrid qualities, impeccably blending a swing onto industrial territories for a hypnotic-yet-banging hands in the air dancefloor moment. Scam Dust (the duo of Tiago and Shcuro, from adjacent generations) picks up on the industrial flavours, adds furious jacking rhythmics and live sonic experimentation that takes us to peak-quality effect and noise manipulation. 'Subvert' follows and goes deeper, as if into the depths of the ocean, with aquatic arpeggios and sparse drums that morph into an 303-driven state of mysterious oceanfloor mania - Roundhouse Kick sending us messages from the South. Violet and her 'Dream Machine' emerge with its mutant noisy motif, delay-drenched percussion and steady beat interrupted by keys, drum variations - and a u-turn to its paranoid loopy beginnings. Phoebe enters the chat and brings sonic sun rays in 'Galaxia 2000', a wide-eyed moment lead by colourful, open synthesisers with gates and filters taking us on a beautiful ride on tense, swingy drum patterns. The tenth track comes from Lisbon's rkeat and is full of closing act ear-candy with its beautifully chiseled, groovy as hell percussion, organic sonics and metallic instruments that seem to announce that the next decade is about to be just as good, if not better than this lovely 2016-2026 stint of boundary and scene-pushing.

With his last three records all landing within a calendar year (2024-25), enigmatic Swedish producer Civilistjävel! (aka Tomas Bodén) is on a hot streak of releases, his singular vision increasingly ambitious and expansive. There are few artists working at this level so consistently right now, reinventing, revising and continually developing their language. Following on from 2025’s radically re-worked ‘Versions’ (of Mayssa Jallad’s ‘Marjaa…’), Bodén returns to break further fresh ground with his new album, ‘Älvgång’. Featuring contributions from Soccer Committee, Carrier and guest (aka Jabu’s Jasmine Butt), ‘Älvgång’ foregrounds a more brittle and insistent rhythm-based sound, whilst comprising his most broad-ranging collection of material to date.


‘Älvgång’ grew out of a series of sketches made from late ‘24 and throughout the whole of ‘25 at Stockholm’s renowned EMS Studios, which gave Boden free rein to its extensive collection of vintage analogue equipment and rare modular synthesizers such as the Serge and Buchla systems. As a loose framework of tracks began to take shape, so did a reflection of sorts, on family and foundations, underpinned or influenced by sounds that drifted into Tomas consciousness around this time - ancient Swedish pastoral music, Georgian lithurgical chants, gongs, chimes. An idea settled into place, a dedication to his Grandfather, as the earlier release Fyra Platser (tr. ‘Four Places’) was to his Grandmother. Älvgång is grounded with the sense of time and place of an old family photograph, with the tracks over each side bearing one of two names that are more or less the same location - Strinne was the old name for a this loose collection of villages. These days it is more commonly known as Bjärtrå. Metaphorically speaking, the river runs through both.


Civilistjävel! conjures so many adjectives and descriptors, ‘glacial’ and ‘ambient’ frequently among them - but while not altogether untrue, such terms belie the tension and drama so often present in Tomas’ music. Listening to ‘Älvgång’ is not a passive experience. The eight tracks here feel like a patchwork of memories that bathe in the same ethereal, otherworldly glow of Tarkovsky’s polaroids’.


The machine pulses that dominate this landscape are reigned in and tempered by a human hand; lithe, untethered coils, breathing in and out. ‘Strinne Ett’ sets out with purpose, sensing awe and wonder through the murk, but as the final tone unfurls like a question mark, another chapter begins, unfolding/building like a Tarjei Vesaas novel. These lyrical, abstract miniatures combine to reveal a wider context, fragile humanity standing alone against nature.


Guest appearances on Civilistjävel! records have become a regular occurrence (including recent collaborations with Mayssa Jallad, Laila Sakini, Cucina Povera, Thomas Bush, Eldon + Withdrawn), but are used sparingly and with increasing precision. On ‘Strinne Tre’ Mariska Baars’ (Soccer Committee) voice feels like a balm, a clearing. But as her simple, three-word incantation drifts further into fog, the meaning changes, and her words seem to curdle. Carrier’s beats widen the parameters on ‘Strinne Fyra’, a skittering promise that builds tension then refuses to release it; all false starts, Photek gongs, and trinkling modulars. Jabu’s Jasmine Butt pulls all the threads together for the final track, Thomas Tallis’ ghost walking over offset machine impulses, that work against their own symmetry.


Side two begins inquisitively, scanning bleached, alien surroundings, its sparse pads recalling Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient works Vol 2’. 'Bjärtrå Två’ picks up the baton from ' Strinne Fyra’ with a ruptured Simmons SDS200 analogue drum synth set free from its shackles, the rhythm eventually slotting into the spaces that were hiding in plain sight. What follows seems like an epiphany; ‘Bjärtrå Tre’ is achingly beautiful, a euphoric, winding ascent that leads to devotional plainsong. ‘Bjärtrå Fyra‘s final unheralded shift feels both tragic and haunting.

2026 Repress
In the ever-expanding universe of deep house, Julius Steinhoff is far from being a stranger. Half of the dynamic duo Smallpeople, founder and one of the steersmen behind Hamburg's Smallville empire (record store/ label/ party curator around the globe) as well as a producer and DJ in his own right, Steinhoff is closely associated with a group of like-minded people that unite fresh ideas and individualism with a certain consciousness of tradition. That 'Flocking Behaviour' is well embodied in Steinhoff's debut album by the same name. After a string of 12-inches for the likes of Live at Robert Johnson, Geography or his own-brand Smallville and the very well-received Smallpeople long-player 'Salty Days", Julius Steinhoff makes a submission that is all his. Rooted in the elegiac variety of the big three (New York, Chicago & Detroit) and a romantic concept of house music that is at times utopian, the album gathers eight tracks that evoke late nights, hazy mornings and walks on thin air. But 'Flocking Behaviour' is by no means anachronistic: Tracks like 'Under A Waterfall' could be made in just the same manner by a puerile Baby Ford in 1989 as they represent a swaying dance floor in 2014. 'Treehouse' or the title track 'Flocking Behaviour' are experiences that make you feel like meeting new people who instantly greet you like old friends. With someone that works and lives in the here and now, Steinhoff seemingly has no interest in revisionism, complains or antagonism, his approach is welcoming and caring, embracing and mesmerizing. Along the way, his musical apparatus never makes use of cheap tricks or antique clichés.

Acid Pauli returns to the curious world of Gwar Is Not The Answer (originally released 2006 on Smaul) with a carefully remastered re-release that includes two new remixes from Jonathan Kaspar and Acid Pauli. The title track unfolds at an unhurried pace, weaving loose acid traces through warm percussion and off-centre melodic fragments that seem to appear and dissolve before settling into place. It drifts forward with a quiet sense of momentum, balancing eccentric textures with a groove that remains firmly grounded throughout. With his new remix Jonathan Kaspar takes the original into leaner territory, sharpening its contours and drawing out its tension while preserving the peculiar character at its core. His remix stretches the track into a more focused club framework where rolling low-end pressure meets finely tuned rhythmic movement, allowing small details to carry unexpected weight. On the flip Acid Pauli revisits the track from a different angle. The remix opens up the source material into a spacious and fluid arrangement where shimmering tones circle around a deep pulse and subtle harmonic shifts gradually reveal themselves over time. Together the three versions explore different dimensions of the same musical language, moving between psychedelic house, understated dancefloor functionality and the kind of idiosyncratic storytelling that has long defined Acid Pauli's work.

For Luca, Cuylan’s new album of elegant modern classical, globally informed folk and gentle electronic music, is in part a tribute to his dearly departed dog. Luca came into Cuylan’s life like a key unlocking a door, leading to experiences and experiments simultaneously new and familiar. Back then the Turkish-born musician was living in LA with his wife, leading a busy creative life, writing and recording scores for films and Netflix series, and suddenly with the adoption of Luca here’s this bouncy, furry being demanding constant attention. Cuylan accepted the responsibility like a father welcoming a child. He grew closer to his wife. He started psychoanalysis. He returned to acoustic guitar, his original instrument, waylaid for 20 years in favor of synthesizers and electronics, pulsing post-rock and skittering jazz. Luca was there in the studio when Cuylan recorded his first solo album, 2021’s No Such Thing As Free Will, which The Guardian said “seems to invent new languages for the guitar.” Without a doubt, Luca the dog made Deniz the musician more expressive and more vulnerable. Better at his craft. Better at his humanity. Luca was just five years old when bone cancer struck. He exited far too quickly, a comet of joy passing into the dark, unfathomable universe. Cuylan found his absence very hard to process–he was just right here! It took a couple years, but inevitably Luca, the catalyst for Cuylan’s current chapter, inspired new artistry after his death–from Cuylan, and from a host of collaborators from around the world who contributed to For Luca. All of them share an abiding compassion for the more-than-human creatures with whom we share this planet–dogs, cats, whales, ants, trees. The entire menagerie, humankind’s kindred. The album is a collective meditation on–and celebration of–their immeasurable essence. It was born not from despair but from a transcendent love that burns all the brighter for its brevity.

Faitiche presents the debut solo album by cellist, sound artist, and composer Topu Lyo: “quiet scenes from tokyo” brings together sixteen miniatures for solo cello and tape echo that oscillate between abstracts drones and rhythmic pizzicato sketches – all recorded at Topu’s Tokyo apartment. The constant traffic noise from a nearby highway has become an accompanying soundtrack for his compositions and can be heard on the recordings. Topu’s playing is marked by a distinctive idiom oriented more towards abstract electronic studio effects than classical technique.

The artist spoke to Jan Jelinek about his work:

JJ: A solo cello album may seem like an odd fit for a label that has to date released only music that is electronic in the broadest sense. But I think “quiet scenes from tokyo” complements the Faitiche repertoire exceptionally well. Its sixteen miniatures showcase the cello in all its complexity: the bowed passages sometimes recall a tape feedback drone; the pizzicato playing conjures up the percussion recordings of Moondog; and the abstract textures might be mistaken for the product of a granular sampler rather than rapid finger work on the cello. I’m constantly surprised by just how rich and varied this album is – without ever losing the charm of its sketch-like quality. Could you say a few words about the making of your album – first of all, from a rather technical perspective: what production tools did you use, and why?

TL: My production tools were very sparse. Just a solo cello and my Roland 301 Space Echo, which I only used at the end, running everything through it during mixing, tape only. After years of working with electronics, pedals, and synthesizers, moving to Tokyo pushed me toward minimizing my setup. But my aesthetics shifted too, toward simplicity. I wanted to strip everything back to just the acoustic cello and see how far I could push it — replicating some of my favorite electronic effects through extended technique: slow portamento, LFOs, filters, detune, noise. I’d also been listening to a cassette of ocean sounds for years. When I moved to Tokyo I was horrified to find myself living directly across from a freeway. Eventually the freeway started sounding almost identical to the ocean — and that ended up playing a prominent part in the recording.

JJ: That’s super interesting: mimicking electronic production as a compositional idea for the cello! You say the sound of the freeway is crucial to the album: I, too, tend to interpret steady traffic noise as a positive soundscape – do we hear the freeway on the album? I can also hear other field recordings, for example on “a street car with announcements”. Can you say a bit about how these field recordings influence your playing?

TL: Yes, you can hear the freeway on the album! The freeway is most prominent in “old trees in lonely spring”, “yuyake koyake”, and “the moon” (you can clearly hear individual cars). When I first began recording I had my balcony door shut tightly, but after a while I began leaning into the highway sound and slowly opening the door little by little to control the amount of noise. “streetcar with announcements” was a moment I was recording and a car passed by making announcements in the background. I loved how it sounded! Same thing with “yuyake koyake”, and later I realized that every day at 5pm the same song plays to mark sunset, telling children it’s time to go home. Having this bedrock of sound puts less pressure on me to put music on top or to play more notes.

JJ: It’s astonishing how much this differs from what I’d imagined: I’d been picturing peaceful landscape recordings, but had never thought of a freeway. Which goes to show how open to interpretation traffic noises are. So the room by the freeway had a major influence on the album – how are you going to perform it live?

TL: The contrast between the freeway and the beautiful landscape in my head couldn’t have been starker. I too was imagining a beautiful landscape in which to create the album, but somehow it still worked out. I've been going back and forth a lot on live shows and I think the most honest way is to have it the most stripped down. I was thinking of using traffic samples etc., but I think the duet really comes from the background sounds from every unique venue/environment. So as it stands, I’ll just be doing acoustic solo cello.

Twenty-five years after its original release, Markus Guentner's debut album In Moll returns in a special anniversary reissue on Black Knoll Editions, reaffirming its place as one of the defining ambient recordings of the early 21st century.

Released in 2001 during the formative years of Kompakt's influential Pop Ambient series, In Moll emerged from a period of rapid transformation in electronic music. New technologies, expanding digital networks, and shifting creative possibilities allowed artists to imagine entirely new sonic worlds. Amid this fertile landscape, Guentner's music stood apart. Combining delicate melodic fragments, slow-moving harmonies, and a remarkable sense of spatial depth, In Moll introduced a distinct artistic voice whose impact can still be felt a quarter-century later.

The album arrived shortly after Guentner's contributions to the inaugural Pop Ambient compilation, including the now-beloved "Regensburg 1," named after his Bavarian hometown. Those early recordings immediately captured the attention of Kompakt founders Michael Mayer and Wolfgang Voigt. Recalling his first encounter with the music, Mayer describes listening to a demo CDR with Voigt while wandering through Cologne late into the night, replaying the tracks for hours. "We knew that we had found something outrageously beautiful and we wanted the whole world to listen."

Across its running time, In Moll unfolds like a series of dreamlike landscapes, inviting the listener into a world that feels both familiar and strangely other. Bells, hisses, distant textures, and slow-moving bass tones drift through vast expanses of atmosphere while luminous synthesizer washes seem to blur the horizon in a fine digital mist. The album's transportive qualities are matched by a remarkable sense of compositional discipline. Every gesture feels deliberate, every texture carefully placed. Balancing warmth and melancholy with restraint, Guentner created a body of work that rewards both close listening and complete surrender.

Reflecting on the album twenty-five years later, Wolfgang Voigt describes Guentner as "one of the first, but also one of the most important ambient artists" associated with Kompakt, calling his music "an integral, timeless part of the long history of pop ambient." Music critic and former Pitchfork Editor-in-Chief Mark Richardson, who reviewed In Moll upon its original release, similarly noted that the album "marked the arrival of an important new voice," and today regards it as "one of the finest ambient releases of the decade."

The album's influence continues to extend far beyond its original audience. For many listeners, In Moll served as an entry point into a new understanding of what ambient music could be. Black Knoll boss Rafael Anton Irisarri first encountered the album shortly after its release in 2001. "It immediately opened a door to a world of music I didn't know existed," he recalls. "At a time when I was still discovering my own creative voice, Markus showed me entirely new possibilities for what electronic music could communicate." Simply put, "The Sight Below would not have existed without In Moll paving the way."

Far from a historical curiosity, In Moll continues to feel strikingly contemporary. What once sounded futuristic now feels timeless, its patient pacing, attention to detail, and sense of wonder remaining entirely intact. The album's enduring power lies not only in its influence, but in the curiosity it continues to inspire, inviting listeners to step inside its world and lose themselves within it.

To mark its twenty-fifth anniversary, Black Knoll Editions presents the most complete edition of In Moll to date. Newly remastered in full analog by Rafael Anton Irisarri, this expanded release pairs the original album with a newly reworked interpretation by Markus Guentner himself, revisiting the material through the lens of twenty-five years of artistic development. The anniversary edition also features a new visual presentation designed by Guentner, offering a visual counterpart to the album's continued evolution. Together, these recordings and visuals celebrate both the enduring legacy of In Moll and its ability to reveal new dimensions twenty-five years later.

This 25th Anniversary Edition on Black Knoll Editions celebrates a recording whose quiet impact has only grown with time, preserving a work that remains as evocative, singular, and essential today as it was in 2001.

Twenty-five years after its original release, Markus Guentner's debut album In Moll returns in a special anniversary reissue on Black Knoll Editions, reaffirming its place as one of the defining ambient recordings of the early 21st century.

Released in 2001 during the formative years of Kompakt's influential Pop Ambient series, In Moll emerged from a period of rapid transformation in electronic music. New technologies, expanding digital networks, and shifting creative possibilities allowed artists to imagine entirely new sonic worlds. Amid this fertile landscape, Guentner's music stood apart. Combining delicate melodic fragments, slow-moving harmonies, and a remarkable sense of spatial depth, In Moll introduced a distinct artistic voice whose impact can still be felt a quarter-century later.

The album arrived shortly after Guentner's contributions to the inaugural Pop Ambient compilation, including the now-beloved "Regensburg 1," named after his Bavarian hometown. Those early recordings immediately captured the attention of Kompakt founders Michael Mayer and Wolfgang Voigt. Recalling his first encounter with the music, Mayer describes listening to a demo CDR with Voigt while wandering through Cologne late into the night, replaying the tracks for hours. "We knew that we had found something outrageously beautiful and we wanted the whole world to listen."

Across its running time, In Moll unfolds like a series of dreamlike landscapes, inviting the listener into a world that feels both familiar and strangely other. Bells, hisses, distant textures, and slow-moving bass tones drift through vast expanses of atmosphere while luminous synthesizer washes seem to blur the horizon in a fine digital mist. The album's transportive qualities are matched by a remarkable sense of compositional discipline. Every gesture feels deliberate, every texture carefully placed. Balancing warmth and melancholy with restraint, Guentner created a body of work that rewards both close listening and complete surrender.

Reflecting on the album twenty-five years later, Wolfgang Voigt describes Guentner as "one of the first, but also one of the most important ambient artists" associated with Kompakt, calling his music "an integral, timeless part of the long history of pop ambient." Music critic and former Pitchfork Editor-in-Chief Mark Richardson, who reviewed In Moll upon its original release, similarly noted that the album "marked the arrival of an important new voice," and today regards it as "one of the finest ambient releases of the decade."

The album's influence continues to extend far beyond its original audience. For many listeners, In Moll served as an entry point into a new understanding of what ambient music could be. Black Knoll boss Rafael Anton Irisarri first encountered the album shortly after its release in 2001. "It immediately opened a door to a world of music I didn't know existed," he recalls. "At a time when I was still discovering my own creative voice, Markus showed me entirely new possibilities for what electronic music could communicate." Simply put, "The Sight Below would not have existed without In Moll paving the way."

Far from a historical curiosity, In Moll continues to feel strikingly contemporary. What once sounded futuristic now feels timeless, its patient pacing, attention to detail, and sense of wonder remaining entirely intact. The album's enduring power lies not only in its influence, but in the curiosity it continues to inspire, inviting listeners to step inside its world and lose themselves within it.

To mark its twenty-fifth anniversary, Black Knoll Editions presents the most complete edition of In Moll to date. Newly remastered in full analog by Rafael Anton Irisarri, this expanded release pairs the original album with a newly reworked interpretation by Markus Guentner himself, revisiting the material through the lens of twenty-five years of artistic development. The anniversary edition also features a new visual presentation designed by Guentner, offering a visual counterpart to the album's continued evolution. Together, these recordings and visuals celebrate both the enduring legacy of In Moll and its ability to reveal new dimensions twenty-five years later.

This 25th Anniversary Edition on Black Knoll Editions celebrates a recording whose quiet impact has only grown with time, preserving a work that remains as evocative, singular, and essential today as it was in 2001.

Siân Pottok is a citizen of the world.


Born in West Palm Beach, Florida, to a mother of Indian and Congolese heritage and a father of Slovak and Belgian descent, Siân grew up between Belgium and New York before finally letting her travelling wings come to rest in Paris. What could have become a story of fragmentation instead became a source of creative strength. Singer, songwriter, composer and photographer, Siân has always turned borders into bridges.


She first honed her voice in the jazz clubs of Paris and New York, performing alongside renowned artists such as Richard Bona, Jon Batiste and Mike Stern. Yet her path has always extended far beyond the stage. For nearly a decade, she led cultural initiatives with women and children living through exile, violence and poverty across India and Southern Africa, weaving together music, photography and artistic transmission as tools for dialogue and empowerment.
The true turning point came when she discovered the kamele ngoni, the West African harp whose ethereal sound seemed to echo something long buried within her. The instrument became her musical alter ego—the invisible thread binding together her many inheritances. Guided by Malian master Abou Diarra, Siân embarked on an inward journey towards her African roots. Yet this return to her origins was never an act of retreat into identity. Instead, it gave rise to a body of work that remains profoundly open to the world, where Africa enters into conversation with jazz, folk, soul, alternative pop and the rhythms of Brazil.
Along the way, she has crossed paths with remarkable artists including Rogê, Chico César, Fatoumata Diawara, Lokua Kanza, Flavia Coelho, Thomas de Pourquery and Philippe Baden Powell. On stage and in the studio, Siân continues to shape a musical universe that refuses labels. Like artists such as Björk, Joni Mitchell and Laura Mvula, she moves forward as an explorer, guided not by genre but by intuition.


Today, Siân stands as one of the most distinctive voices of the new Francophone music scene an artist capable of uniting musical sophistication with emotional power, introspection with collective celebration, depth with an irresistible urge to dance.


Animal — The New Album


With Animal, produced by British musician Tom Excell (Nubiyan Twist, Africa Express...), Siân delivers her most intimate and assured work to date. Every song feels like a shedding of skin, a quiet metamorphosis, exploring self-acceptance, femininity, the freedom to be oneself, cultural heritage, and the reconciliation of one's own imperfections.
From Stereotype, a fearless manifesto against the expectations imposed on women, to the title track Animal, an anthem celebrating the beauty of imperfection ("I've turned my cracks into a crown"), the album gives a voice to everyone who refuses to fit into predefined boxes. In Terre, je danse sur toi, featuring Fatoumata Diawara, Siân pays tribute to Mother Earth and to the roots that unite us all. Oh! Congo, recorded with Lokua Kanza, reconciles her cultural heritage with an ancestral homeland that feels both distant and intimately familiar. En équilibre, with Flavia Coelho, embraces the exhilaration of risk and the courage to leap, while Put a Mask and I Could Kill confront hidden wounds and the invisible violences that quietly shape who we become.
In ADé, Siân addresses Adenomyosis as though speaking to an unwanted housemate. "My body is your battlefield," she sings, giving voice to an intimate shadow lodged deep within herself. This bittersweet lullaby transforms a pain so often left unspoken into an act of profound tenderness towards oneself.
The album also holds a rare treasure: Reste tel(le), an unpublished text by Pierre Barouh, the founder of the Saravah label. Never before set to music or performed, this elusive poem of free love finds new life through Siân's voice, becoming a dialogue across time between two artists united by the same devotion to freedom, métissage and openness to the world.
Driven by Tom Excell's vibrant Afro-pop pulse, the spiritual breath of the kamele ngoni, organic arrangements and deeply personal songwriting, Animal is an album of liberation. It invites us to lay down our masks, embrace our contradictions and reconnect with the free, instinctive and powerful animal that lies dormant within us all. More than a collection of songs, it is a radiant manifesto for the richness of identity, the passing on of memory, and reconciliation with oneself.
Animal is not simply the title of an album, it is a declaration of independence. An invitation to live fully, unapologetically, and without instructions.
A citizen of the world, travelling freely between continents, languages and memories, Siân Pottok delivers with Animal her most personal, and perhaps her most universal work to date: an album that reminds us that our fragilities, our roots and our differences are, beyond doubt, our greatest strength.
— Christophe Tison

WOW! An early ’80s New Wave, Electro, Proto-Electronica, Industrial and Kraut-Pop album that has never been released before is now coming out on Elaste Records and it’s a perfect fit! History is being made.

Quotes: “A pearl” (Hans Nieswandt) / “Great album” (Hell, Gigolo) / “Awesome album” (Patrick Pulsinger) / “Magnificent material” (Roman Flügel) / “An ’80s electronic gem… an ’80s Krautpop highlight” (Sankt Otten).

In the early eighties, Michael Heinkel was one of those quiet electronic musicians hardly anyone knew — at least outside of Munich. While machine rhythms were being perfected in Düsseldorf, dilettantism was elevated into an art form in Hamburg and West Berlin was soundtracking its own feverish coldness, Munich seemed to be a place where, apparently, nothing was happening. Or almost nothing. Because beneath the radar, far removed from the grand narratives of those years, Michael Heinkel was already creating his own electronic cosmos — stripped-down, idiosyncratic and often ahead of its time. Electronic minimalist music, born somewhere between a home studio, nightlife and the longing for a future that could only just be imagined back then. But the recordings disappeared into drawers, onto cassettes and tape reels. For decades, they remained a secret shared only among friends, insiders and a handful of close companions. It was only 45 years later that Andreas Dorau and Ralf Hertwig (Palais Schaumburg) — two defining figures of that early avant-garde — insisted that the recordings finally be made accessible. Not as an exercise in nostalgia, but as the overdue release of a missing piece in the history of German electronic music. This music is not a nostalgic retrospective. It is a delayed signal from a future that had already begun back then. Format: Heavyweight black vinyl incl. printed inner sleeve + download card



Quotes: -"Michael Heinkel's long-lost LP is a treasure trove. I'm constantly amazed at the musical gems from the early '80s that are still waiting to be discovered." - Hans Nieswandt (Whirlpool Productions) - „Some München musical history that somehow got missed at the time finally gets released after 40 years. Great album.“ - Hell (Gigolo) - “Awesome album! Today, we can only imagine just how groundbreaking electronic music at this level was back then. When gems like these are heard for the first time in perfect sound quality, it’s like a trip back in time to the early days of electronic music. Back to the future!!!” - Patrick Pulsinger (Cheap / iO / Sluts’n‘ Strings & 909 / The Private Lightning Six) - “Terrific material!” - Roman Flügel (Acid Jesus / Alter Ego / Sensorama / Warp 69) - “ELASTE has unearthed an 80s electronic gem! A German minimal wave gem-freshly unearthed! Minimal, rare, brilliant - an 80s Krautpop highlight.” - Sankt Otten - „Pure and delicious 80s Electronics from Munich. We love it.“ - Gorilla Aktiv

Smallville presents a very special album project – 'Tumbling Cycles' by Billus is here to stay! Ethereal deep-dubby house music from Australia, that feels like finding the hidden-treasure you were not even looking for.

„When I am most enjoying making music, I have this sense that I'm just watching cycles of sound happen and match up in front me on their own and I'm not really just doing anything and it's really nice. Most of these tracks stem from a small collection of
iteratively distorted percussive jazz and breaks that I kept coming back to and watching them cycle around each other.“

This is Billus' approach while he is out in the studio zone. As a result, we all get the chance to scuba-dive into his soundscapes like a warm blanket, interwoven rhythms and cosmic textures, that seem to have the ability to heal. The fresh feels was real,
every time the album went by.

Billus is praised for his impeccable mixtapes for a lot of very special occasions of doing not a lot- make sure to check these out. And Billus produces sprawling music- he released on Naarm labels Animalia, Vessel and Pollinate and he makes music to shyaway in the woods, picking up lil mushrooms if you feel like- or leave these untouched for the same effects.

So while listening to the Tumbling Cycles LP, make yourself comfy and try to work out your own personal scenario, in which Billus' music and his leftfield approach would flourish best. These tracks come with approval by the sweetest dancefloors
around the world and we can't wait to release these to the world. The 2x12“ comes with a stunning full-cover artwork from Stefan Marx.

Half a century after its original release, legendary Lebanese musician and singer Marcel Khalife—renowned oud player and global icon of both music and activism—returns with a new recording. On this album, he reinterprets four of the five tracks from his debut, Promises of the Storm. A bold defiance of time and history.


Why revisit the same album, 50 years later? The reasons are many, but one stands above the rest: history itself seems to be repeating. The narrative unfolds once more in the same dire circumstances as half a century ago, as if time has folded in on itself, returning everything to its starting point. The urgency, the necessity—it all remains, pressing and inescapable. We must begin again.


In 1976, a young Marcel Khalife found himself exiled in Paris, fleeing the Lebanese Civil War and his family’s Christian village, where his progressive, left-wing ideas had placed him under a kind of house arrest. He was one of the few to openly and unwaveringly champion the Palestinian cause. The situation quickly became untenable, especially since, just a month before the war began in March 1975, Khalife—fresh out of the conservatory—had given his first public concert to great acclaim. Then, everything collapsed. What does one do when trapped at home? Read books, play the oud, and turn those readings into songs. In his family’s de facto prison, Khalife began setting the poetry of the great Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish to music. These songs, born of confinement, he carried with him into exile, driving to Paris where a producer offered him the chance to record an album. Naturally, the tracks were the ones he had been improvising at home from Darwish’s poems. The album’s title, Promises of the Storm, echoed the war that was just beginning. Khalife recalls that the album became a hit after a concert at the Fête de l’Huma, where 500 copies were sold in a single day. “Everything started there, and it never stopped,” he remembers. He would meet Mahmoud Darwish shortly after, at a dinner organized by mutual friends. From that moment, a deep friendship blossomed between the two men.


With Darwish’s words and Khalife’s music, the songs of Promises of the Storm are imbued with a powerful evocative force—melancholy, tenderness, and poetic resistance in the face of violence. The album catapulted Khalife to international stardom, leading to endless tours and recordings, yet he never abandoned his commitments.


Now, 50 years later, Promises of the Storm returns in a fresh recording, because history is repeating itself. After the Israeli bombings in Lebanon at the end of 2024, Khalife, who was on tour, found himself stranded in Paris. He remembered a recurring request from his son, musician Bachar Mar-Khalife, who had often urged him to re-record his now-classic debut album. One morning, oud in hand, Marcel knocked on his son’s door and said, “Shall we? I’m ready to record.”
These new versions are stripped down, raw, and intimate—just the solitary strings of the oud. Khalife sings as never before, his voice no longer marked by the fragility of youth but imbued with something deeper, freer, unshackled. It soars high yet resonates low, always clear, as if to escape sadness, to evoke love and violence, desire and exile. In just four songs, Khalife encapsulates a lifetime, and a philosophy of life. Rita tells of a love of Darwish’s, with the haunting line (translated from Arabic): “Between Rita’s eyes and mine, a rifle.” Oummi invokes the figure of the mother as a metaphor for the lost land. Promises of the Storm is a meditation on revolution, the hope for change, the melancholy of defeat, and the power of thought. Passport captures, through poetry, the feeling of being stateless—a citizen of everywhere and nowhere.
Time has only strengthened these texts and this music. History never repeats itself without a valid, indispensable reason for the present. That reason is fully contained in Marcel Khalife’s new interpretations, which have never sounded so clear, so right, so essential.

House is the Religion. The DJ is my Deacon. The Music is my God and James Bangura is cool af.

Genuine, passionate, clear, authentic and real…. He isn’t trying, he just is. And his music is the same. It’s fucking cool. It’s real and authentic and it just is James Bangura. So it’s a real honour to add him to the Shall Not Fade roster; from Techno to Jungle to House and everything between the DC native can extract the true essence of a genre and simultaneously make it his own & pay homage to its roots.

So on Jack Sermon there’s no surprise when he flexes a seemingly generationally inherited knack for all things House (and Techno) and delivers four tracks of raw, real, genuine House music. OG shit.

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‘House is the Religion, and the DJ is my Deacon, but the music is my God” says the Evangelical vocal on title track ‘Jack Sermon’. Never has there been a more aptly named track…This is a jack sermon… an OG inspired Chi town cut channeling early house music’s soulful beginnings delivered with straight up jacking house beat offset with laidback dusty dub chords….. We don;t say this lightly but we’re calling anthem on this one.

‘Scat Pack’ takes a more percussive and drum forward House motif. Thunderous kicks tease techno but this is still house, NY at heart complete with voguing diva vocals . Blown out and choppy we could say ‘this could have been ripped from a late 90’s club recording on a lost tape’ but that would do disservice to the precise but invisible fusion that's been laid down here..

‘Funk To Berlin’ opens the flip side and in Bangura’s journey to explore classic forms of house and techno, this track may well have taken root from Dub techno pioneers from the past. Deep dub chords and deeper subs lead the track but that jacking percussion makes this more than homage. Machine Funk, Machine soul. AA side business.

‘The Green Line’ closes out the EP in style.. rolling it out with skittering synths that work like percussion, ethereal pads and a faint vocal ‘Chicago’ spiralling into itself making this track one you can get lost in. Some might argue that this one is techno but who cares. It’s the journey not the destination. Two tickets please.

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If you don’t know James Bangura’s music already (or even if you do) do some digging.. Look for releases on Mister Saturday Night, K7! and Floorspeed and check his output as part of “Black Rave Culture” with Amal and Nativesun and as a member of Groovedeep with Toronto’s Ciel and fellow DC native Jackson Ryland.

To close, we’ll leave you with this note from James……. told he is cool af.

House music, to me, exists on a wide spectrum. I’m inspired by its many forms: stripped-back minimalism, percussive drive, hypnotic textures, and soulful undertones. Rather than confining myself to one approach, I treat each track as an exploration—testing structure, pushing rhythm, and allowing subtle details to carry emotional weight. The studio becomes a space where groove and atmosphere meet intention. This body of work highlights that process. It reflects how I balance technical precision with feel, tension with release, and tradition with forward motion. Every decision—from drum programming to spatial design—is part of shaping a sound that feels honest and instinctive. - James Bangura

“One foot out the door, another in the otherworld…”
So begins Hannah Lew’s debut, self-titled solo record, soaked in imperious, wide-eyed pop songwriting and a girl-group/post punk aesthetic that belies the artist’s history in the U.S. underground. A towering, hook-laden album, it’s infused with an optimism and surrealism that conversely deals with the times we find ourselves in.

Recorded at home in Richmond, CA and in The Best House studio with Maryam Qudus in Oakland CA, with the assistance of a crack team of West Coast musicians, this album sees Hannah Lew stepping out from behind the legacy of her two groups Grass Widow and Cold Beat. While musically bearing similarities with her previous work, “Hannah Lew” is a bold leap into direct pop territory, making ample use of a vocal style that teases out the inherent melancholy in her melodies. Mastered by Sarah Register, each song is a perfectly honed nugget that frequently pulls the heart in two directions at once.

Themes of change, breaking up, shattering old ways of being are shot through the record. For the front cover, a photograph of the artist’s face was printed, ripped up and re-assembled, resembling the creative process embarked upon by Lew for her first “solo” material. The album feels instinctual, almost dream-like in its assemblage of sweeping synths and pulsating, propulsive drum machine beat patterns with Lew’s vocal performances sensitive and caressing over the top. Increasingly relying on the subconscious and dreams to guide her creative process, Hannah Lew frequently abandons literal interpretations or linear narratives, the songs seeming to exist in a swooning, effortless flow-state while remaining emotionally hard hitting.

On an album where every song could be a single, there are kaleidoscopic shades and varying emotional tones in abundance. First single Another Twilight is carried along a pumping, Italo-disco-style 4/4 beat and mono-synth bass line, the low end pulling at the heart and body. Lew’s vocal melody teases the track before swan-diving into a gorgeous chorus as she sings “it’s all over baby and I don’t mind… in decline, I take my time…” The album is suffused with moments like this. On slow builder Damaged Melody, an arpeggiated synth elongates the verse before a cascading synth showers down melodic glitter. The stunning Replica uses dual swirling synth patterns before a driving, synthpop chorus for the ages carries Hannah Lew’s vocal into the stereo field, sailing in on a high register singed with the embers of a break up.

In a departure from previous groups, her solo songs are guided by dreams and free association inspired by Dada and the Surrealist movement and sculpted afterwards. As such, the songs reveal themselves on repeated listens, revealing traces of heartbreak inspired by both personal and global elements - Hannah Lew regards the album “a wartime album.” On Move In Silence, Lew intones “there’s a war outside, just out of view,” revealing the dichotomy at play throughout. With the songs evolving naturally and in a flow state, the pressures and sadnesses of the modern age bleed through, mixed in with Lew’s inherent love, sensitivity and fractured-but-intact optimism. On the swooning, sublime Sunday layers of Numanoid synths open up for the commanding vocal performance pontificating on grief, love, pain as she “feels the ache on Sunday…” As the chorus builds and Lew’s call-and-response vocal adds to the emotional tension, it almost feels like too much to take.

Elsewhere, there are echoes of Hannah Lew’s previous work. On Time Wasted a bass guitar comes in with a heavy, punk attack before the synths and vocal harmonies reminiscent of later Cold Beat elevate everything. The glassy, sweetly resigned closer The Clock sounds like so classic it could be cover, a sweetened Jesus & Mary Chain tune perhaps, before it erupts into volcanic chorus that could only come from Hannah Lew in 2026.

Victoryland is the Brooklyn-based project of musician Julian McCamman and Dan Howard.. Their 2026 album, My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras In It, is a triumphant, despondent, and ultimately fun experimental pop-rock album. A year on, the record receives the deluxe treatment from new label home Dead Oceans. My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras In It (Deluxe) arrives December


11th 2026, on exclusive crystal clear vinyl, complete with new song “The Ugliest Girl On The Beach” and a new music video for album standout “I got god.” The sound of the album, recorded between Julian’s Bed-Stuy basement and Dan’s Williamsburg studio, is that of a bright and beaming collaboration. Blending lo-fi and hi-fi production, the songs have the glossiness of a radio-friendly hit mixed with the distortion and rough edges of a home demo. Every song keeps at least one element of the initial recording, while building around the loops and half-songs Julian scraped together. The lyrics on the record span from humorous self-aware popisms (“‘you and I’ will soon be, used to be ‘us’”) to crushing realities of bitterness (“i’ll never forgive you, that’s how I keep you close”) and abstract imagery (“mothers wave from doorways, in ostinato”), all delivered with such an immediacy and fervor that in the middle of singing along, you wonder if this guy slept much last night. Much to their surprise, My Heart’s release ushered Victoryland into a whirlwind of a year. Pitchfork praised the album’s “bright, madcap approach reminiscent of the New Pornographers’ Twin Cinema or Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s Some Loud Thunder.” Stereogum named it their Album of the Week and proclaimed it “a surprisingly cohesive scrapbook of sounds from seemingly every corner of the indie pop umbrella.” The album also received support from Steve Lamacq at BBC 6 Music and Sian Eleri at Radio 1. After a string of sold-out shows in NYC, Victoryland later joined LCD Soundsystem on their North American tour and performed at Pitchfork London, Pitchfork Paris, among other festivals across Europe

What's the point of the howl of string to speaker, the hammering of stick-on skin? Is it transcendence, elevating the human spirit by catharsis in sound? Or is it summoning chaos, a purgatory in which to bask in all that’s unclean, the better to feel alive?
Why not both? Because that’s what’s on offer on Diet Of Worms, the second Rocket release by The Shits, Leeds via Newcastle’s titans of disgust and deliverance. This is a feast for the senses in the worst way possible - primal rock boiled down to its essence and flung full in your face. Using repetition, tortured vocal invective and heads-down intensity as blunt instruments, these eight tracks are an unprecedented torrent of acidic salvation. Whilst lurking somewhere on the decadence-destruction axis between the nihilism of prime Stooges and the bloody blackout of Braimbombs, Diet Of Worms is possessed of a legitimately uncompromising hostility that both elevates and debases it to co-ordinates unknown.
There are revelations here in the riffage and the rancour, even if they are the kind that occur in the bleary miasma of the lock-in, or witnessing the streetlight blur of the subsequent stagger home. Even more single-minded and remorseless than the band’s Rocket debut ‘You’re A Mess’, this is a record that demands full immersion. Whether it’s ‘Then You’re Dead’ hammering on a pulverising garage-stinking riff until it begs for mercy, or ‘Change My Ways’, whose Creedence-In-Hell swagger and lurch is that of abjection transmuted into joy, this is psychedelia forcibly removed from its comfort zone of pastiche, and thrust into a bad-trip realm of the vivid and nightmarish.
But rarely has the process of making beauty and horror indivisible seemed like so much fun. If Werner Herzog was right, and the only harmony in the universe is that of overwhelming and collective murder, then The Shits are the true music of the spheres.

2026 Repress

Due to high demand, MEU has revisited two of Mr. K’s classics, previously only available as 12-inch extended mixes, and asked the master editor to pare them down to 7-inch size.

A true top-five peak record at the Garage, Thelma Houston’s “I’m Here Again” was “a highlight whenever Larry played it,” Danny Krivit recalls, “and he played it a lot!” Danny’s edit is a homage to Larry and Frankie Knuckles – in particular a similar private edit that Frankie did back in the day and shared with Krivit. “It was on reel to reel and I didn’t copy it correctly and lost it,” Danny remembers. “Reels were problematic! When I tried to get it again from him, unfortunately he had lost it too.” The song (likely an attempt by Motown to capitalize on the previous year’s monster hit “Don’t Leave Me This Way”) is, in its original form, a virtual retake of Thelma Houston’s breakout single, from the subdued, schmaltzy intro to the “oooh BABY!” leading to the chorus. What sets “I’m Here Again” apart though, is the incredible second half of the song. Naturally, it is here that Mr. K’s edit focuses. Over a vicious groove reminiscent of the Originals’ “Down To Love Town” breakdown (Michael Sutton wrote and produced both “Love Town” and “I’m Here Again”) Houston delivers soul-stirring ad libs as the band crackles with electricity behind her, the piano chasing a descending string riff so eagerly. Pure dancefloor peak energy! And the very first time having all these parts on a 7"!

For our flip, Danny has reached deep into the earliest foundations of his voluminous collection, and come out with a psychedelic pop classic rearranged for today’s sound systems and setlists. Recorded in the Beatles’ Abbey Road studio at the height of the Summer Of Love, the Zombies’ “Time Of The Season” is firmly linked in pop culture to the late ‘60s and the Vietnam era, breaking big in the summer of 1969. Krivit’s edit highlights the parade of lush sonic textures that ornament the hip composition, from the iconic, exquisitely echoed bass-clap-exhale riff that opens the song to the cascading Hammond organ solos of Rod Argent. “It’s a song from my childhood that really struck a chord,” Danny says. “Over the years I often played a rough edit which always seemed to go over great. The song seemed to get better and better, and age like fine wine.” We agree!

These two songs have both appeared on previous (separate) MEU 12-inches, but are presented here in custom new edits for the 7-inch format.

BAILE & Nuage land on Shall Not Fade with their ‘Back 2 Earth’ EP

Four deeeep timeless tracks on this 12 inch. Sleek, progressive, acidy house & trancey ethereal breaks ‘Back 2 Earth’ is full of that headsy 90’s energy à la Underworld and Orbital…..we’ve been getting very lost in these ones!

Written remotely between Brooklyn, New York (BAILE) and Yerevan, Armenia (Nuage) both producers are more than a decade deep in their craft and it shows. They say “this all began with Nuage sending over a few short demos. BAILE took those pieces and constructed them into more fleshed out tracks, after which the two passed the songs back and forth slowly filling in the blanks.” …and that's the key here - no rush, no agenda just the realest takes expertly hewn.


Same Beat on the A1 is just that.. breakbeats, spoken word vocal chops and repetitive synth lines, but less is more. The percussion, bassline and programming do the work. Sometimes it's more about what you leave out than what you put in.

On ‘TSP’ you Nuage’s signature metallic synths. It’s a definite eyes closed/hands in the air weapon. Hypnotic flow building and ratcheting up the energy.

Flip over to title track’ Back 2 Earth’ and we get a trancey, garage and house blend. Sleek synths & arpeggios and minimal chops that seem to whisper ‘heaven…earth’.. BAILE utilized the Prophet Rev2 for pads and synths and a Moog Little Phatty and Minitaur for the bass but we want to know can a breakbeat soothe?

'Catch Yourself' closes out the EP.. More breaks and arpeggios but this time with an acid lead from the TB-03, grungy bass and warm gated synths underneath. Sample spotters you aren’t scoring any points here, the “I know that sample” vocal here come from Felicia Douglass (a frequent collaborator of BAILE’s who is in The Dirty Projectors and Ava Luna) and makes double the point that this EP is one of those ones that even on first listen you already know it. ‘Back 2 Earth’ has been on the SNF schedule for a minute so big up BAILE & Nuage for the patience but what that extra private time has meant, is that we can say with certainty that this EP keeps sounding better & better & better..