COME TO GRIEF (featuring members of the legendary GRIEF) release
'Killed By Life', a stunning collection of out-of-print EPs and Singles,
completely remastered by Nick Zampiello at New Alliance East and
featuring the artwork of Paolo Girardi (Power Trip, Vastum, Chthe'ilist,
Lycus)!
After numerous EPs and split releases, Come To Grief (featuring
members of the legendary Grief) present their highly anticipated debut
full length record 'When The World Dies'
Recorded and mixed at Godcity Studios by Kurt Ballou (Converge, Nails) and
featuring the amazing artwork of Paolo Girardi (Power Trip, Vastum, Chthe'ilist,
Lycus),'When The World Dies' captures seven tracks of crushing sludge and doom
from the godfathers of the genre. Features guest appearance by Jacob Bannon
(Converge / Wear Your Wounds).
“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.
ORDH's debut, "Blind In Abyssal Realms", sets out to redefine what the term 'progressive death metal' truly means. But before ORDH, there was BARISHI. When their bass player threw in the towel to pursue other interests in life, guitarist and vocalist Graham Brooks, "looking for a fresh start", decided the time had come to finally dwell in his favorite genre: death metal. But not just any kind of death metal_ Having drafted BARISHI drummer Dylan Blake, with whom Graham has been playing since he was twelve years old, and Josh Smith from KIEFCATCHER on bass, the trio then spent a few gruelling years working on their debut, with Graham writing most of the music and ironing the songs out with Dylan and Josh. Having toured with COME TO GRIEF when BARISHI was still around, Graham and the latter's singer Jonathan Hébert had hit it off really well, so when the time came to find a vocalist, Jonathan was called upon, "right on time to jump straight into the recording and writing process, as most of the music was ready to go".
The short, mysterious career of the female French duo Deux Filles is bookended by tragedy. Gemini Forque and Claudine Coule met as teenagers at a holiday pilgrimage to Lourdes, during which Coule's mother died of an incurable lung disease and Forque's mother was killed and her father paralyzed in an auto accident. The two teens bonded over their shared grief and worked through their bereavement with music. However, after recording two critically acclaimed albums and playing throughout Europe and North America, Forque and Coule disappeared without a trace in North Africa in 1984 during a trip to visit Algiers. The short and terribly unhappy lives of Forque and Coule are at the root of the small but fervent cult following the mysterious duo have gained since their disappearance, not least because the placid, largely instrumental music on the duo's albums betrays no hint of the sorrow that framed their personal lives.
This would be a terribly sad story if a word of it were true. In reality, Deux Filles were Simon Fisher Turner, former child star/teen idol and future soundtrack composer, and his mate Colin Lloyd Tucker. Turner and Tucker left an early incarnation of The The in 1981 to pursue another musical direction. Turner claims that the idea of Deux Filles came to him in a dream, and he and Tucker strictly maintained the fiction throughout the duo's career. Not only did they pose in drag for the album covers, the duo once even played live without the audience realizing that the tragic French girls on-stage were actually a pair of blokes from south London. Deux Filles released two albums through Turner and Tucker's Papier Mache label, 1982's Silence & Wisdom' and 1983's Double Happiness'. Both albums are included here and blend watery piano, occasionally ghostly vocals, sheets of synthesizers, heavily processed guitars and the barest minimum of percussion. Drifting and wistful, they're a pair of lost ambient gems from a time when the genre had yet to mature, an excellent example of post-Eno, pre-Orb ambient music.
All songs have been remastered for vinyl by George Horn at Fantasy Studios in Berkeley. The vinyl comes housed in gatefold sleeve with original front covers of both albums, and a centerfold of archive images and the original liner notes. Each LP includes a sticker of the Lino cuts by Adrian Gill that was included with the original pressing.
"Like an early French film soundtrack with melodramatic overtones, the sound is jagged and disjointed but never harsh. Lilting guitars and ample use of echo smack of Vini Reilly, relying on the hypnotic qualities of the sound rather than abrasive noise" (Sounds, 03/1983)
Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.
“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”
However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.
The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”
What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.
Wasteland is a record that is unafraid to plunge into the darkness of the modern world and embrace the weirder, edgier and more unnerving moments that come from doing so. It is an album that captures all the enormity of life from the micro to the macro, zooming in on the personal as well reflecting on broader societal issues.
“Wasteland is about the idea of a place once known or familiar that is now broken down and unrecognisable,” says Ghedi. “It’s about exploring the process of watching someone’s surroundings and environment collapse.” And within that you have a lot going on. “It also explores death, personal loss, grief, mental health and how the natural world provides solace and meaning for that loss and how these worlds blur into one another.”
Ghedi has always been an artist that in many ways perfectly encompasses folk music in its purest form but he is also someone that frequently pushes the boundaries of that label and no more so is that apparent than on this record. As like previous albums, such as 2018’s A Hymn for Ancient Land and 2021’s In the Furrows of Common Place, Ghedi uses traditional folk songs as a means to explore contemporary issues via modern and experimentally-leaning music. “With the traditional material on this album I wanted to find songs with content that resonated with me,” says Ghedi. “But also that were based roughly around the north of England.” This is a central underlying theme to the album for Ghedi. The feelings of loss, erosion, and degradation are often most pronounced in working class communities and this was something he wanted to weave in. “It was important to voice and choose material that represented or expressed issues that correlated with things going on around me.”
However, as remarkable as some of the traditional material is, some of the most arresting work on the album is Ghedi’s entirely original compositions. Lead single ‘Wasteland’ is a stunning piece of work that while rooted in an environment being corrupted and broken – “there’s violence on these hills” Ghedi sorrowfully sings, before claiming this is no longer somewhere that can be called home – it is also a stirringly beautiful composition that soars and glides as it opens up, as sweeping strings swoop and in and out of Ghedi’s twangy electric guitar.
The decision to incorporate more fuller sounds, such as electric guitar and huge drums, results in a notable shift and evolution in tone for Ghedi. “The lyrical content needed something more band-driven and loud to deliver them,” he explains. “Incorporating the electric guitar in my songwriting was also a big part of opening the sound up, using drop tunings pushed me to use my voice in a wider range, which forced me to use falsetto a lot which I haven’t previously done before. That then opened the sound up and gave me creative ideas for bigger arrangements and to sonically really push things.”
What Ghedi has done in creating his masterpiece is construct a remarkable space where deeply intimate and personal feelings coexist with reflections on environment, place and society, while also interweaving historical context via traditional songs. Wasteland is as much of a world to explore and exist in as much as it is an album, with Ghedi carving out his distinctly unique sonic language and voice to explore that singular environment.
This new chapter marks Gordon’s first solo release as Leaving Laurel - a deeply personal and instinctive body of work born from a period of rediscovery. The record began as an open exploration of whatever music naturally came through, a process that became both freeing and revealing to Gordon. The album is a wordless love story told through sound. An emotional arc that mirrors the stages of falling for someone: the spark, the curiosity, the vulnerability, and the quiet realisation that your heart has opened without you even noticing. The album carries an uplifting, hopeful energy, reflecting both personal growth and newfound love - ‘our lives entwined' is a tribute to Gordon’s journey of finding “the one.” Following the loss that inspired ‘when the quiet comes’, Gordon’s eulogy to his late friend and musical partner Pierce, this album finds light emerging from grief. Where the previous record lingered in somber reflection, this album begins in that same emotional landscape but quickly blooms into something more vibrant and full of life. The opening track transitions from the cold, atmospheric tones of mourning into a more radiant energy - a sonic awakening symbolising the shift that came after meeting someone who changed everything. Sonically, the record expands Leaving Laurel's signature sound while embracing new textures. Gordon moved away from the lo-fi experimentation of earlier works, leaning instead into a more expressive palette driven by synths and fresh instrumentation, while still preserving the nostalgic warmth that defines Leaving Laurel. The result is a collection that feels both renewed and rooted - a reflection of growth, optimism, and the timeless beauty of connection.
WHITE COLOURED VINYL[23,49 €]
Death Cab for Cutie is one of the definitive indie-rock bands of the century. After twenty-odd years in the major label system, the band returned to their indie roots and signed with ANTI- Records and they"re back with a brand-new eleventh album titled, I Built You A Tower out June 5th. I Built You A Tower is the sound of loss, compartmentalization, and then grief bursting out from the seams. It"s also the sound of the growth that comes after falling apart, of acknowledging pain without letting it destroy you. "I see the tower existing on your emotional horizon," Ben Gibbard states. "You don"t always have to look at what"s inside it, but it"s a reminder that it happened. You know it"s there. You have to face it." The band is set to hit the road in the US this summer, kicking off on July 10 and includes a two-night run at The Greek in Los Angeles. This comes on the heels of a historic, sold-out global tour marking the 20th anniversary of the album Transatlanticism, and the release of their universally acclaimed, 2022"s Asphalt Meadow.
Death Cab for Cutie is one of the definitive indie-rock bands of the century. After twenty-odd years in the major label system, the band returned to their indie roots and signed with ANTI- Records and they"re back with a brand-new eleventh album titled, I Built You A Tower out June 5th. I Built You A Tower is the sound of loss, compartmentalization, and then grief bursting out from the seams. It"s also the sound of the growth that comes after falling apart, of acknowledging pain without letting it destroy you. "I see the tower existing on your emotional horizon," Ben Gibbard states. "You don"t always have to look at what"s inside it, but it"s a reminder that it happened. You know it"s there. You have to face it." The band is set to hit the road in the US this summer, kicking off on July 10 and includes a two-night run at The Greek in Los Angeles. This comes on the heels of a historic, sold-out global tour marking the 20th anniversary of the album Transatlanticism, and the release of their universally acclaimed, 2022"s Asphalt Meadow.
Brown Angel descends upon Dark Entries with Pure Brown Energy, an EP featuring 6 tracks of gloom-laced electro-funk and retro house. Pure Brown Energy was born when San Francisco-based producer and Hard French collective member Brown Angel was faced with a gift and a loss: an original Roland TR-808 was given to them around the same time that their father passed away. To process their grief, they set about making an album that showcased the many facets of their being, in their words: “my gay tío side, my Latin goth side, my cruising down the boulevard side, and most of all my soft vulnerable side.” From slamming vogue/ballroom house to cumbia-inflected freestyle, Pure Brown Energy channels club sounds both contemporary and timeless, while centering the most eternal electronic instrument of all: the TR-808. Opener “Miel” grooves with the effortlessness of peak-era Masters at Work or vintage Kevin Saunderson, while “Dame Más” dials up the energy even further. The influences of Miami bass and West Coast electro shine through on “Maya” and “Love Me Right,” which pair razor-sharp beats with a flurry of samples culled from Brown Angel’s record collection. “PBE” and “En Movimiento” take the Planet Rock vibes to another level, combining influences from contemporary cumbia and reggaeton sounds with Brown Angel’s Latin goth flair. Each copy comes in a sleeve designed by Ricardo Diseño featuring illustrations inspired by Teen Angels, a popular 1980’s Chicano magazine. Pure Brown Energy brings a sense of urgency to the dancefloor, unreluctantly examining the crossover between creation and loss, between celebration and sorrow. But don’t forget: these cuts also slap.
Erik K Skodvin's feature-length score to Thomas Roth's thriller "Schächten" feels like the epitome of all his musical projects, conjuring a dark cinematic trip through 1960's post-WWII Vienna in a film that touches on topics such as law, justice & revenge.
Releasing a soundtrack as a stand-alone album can be challenging; and "Schächten" is by no means a typical listening experience. The record contains 24 more or less short pieces evolving through dramatic movements, underlaying menace and deep emotive scenes. One thing that stands out is the linear atmosphere throughout the story which creates a wholeness that keeps your attention to the very end. Set in wintery Austrian landscapes in dimly saturated colours, the film's dramatic events with dark political undertones feels like a perfect situation for Skodvin's atmospheric collages - perhaps sounding closer than ever to his early works as Svarte Greiner or Deaf Center. Cello, violin, piano, analogue synth and plenty of hardly recognizable instrumentation come together in a record that feels very organic in its subdued tones. The score also features percussion by Andrea Belfi as well as a Chopin piano interpretation by Kelly Wyse to the bizarrely schizophrenic piece "Judenfreund".
With the contemporary world sliding into darkness again, listening to the soundtrack feels like coming to terms with ones own anxieties - something that in the end comes through as a cleansing experience. As quoted in the film "Everyone is their own devil. And we make this world our hell".
Short synopsis : "Vienna 1960s - The young Jewish business man Victor has to witness how the prosecution of a Nazi crime against his family fails. The political and legal system is still virtually run by former Nazis with large parts of society being entangled in the past. When Victor also loses his grief ridden father and his girlfriend’s family opposes their relationship and his identity, Victor begins to loose faith in formal justice and takes matters in his own hands."
Planning For Burial is the solo project of Thom Wasluck, emerging from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Below The House. If Below The House was about returning home, following in the footsteps of one’s father and joining a union, and leaving behind youth’s wild days, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy embraces what comes next—the weight of all years, the quiet shifts, the reckoning with what remains. This record is many things. It captures the slow drift of time, the unnoticed shifts in a loved one—the creeping changes in mental health, the quiet pull of addiction, the kind of grief that settles in the bones rather than announces itself.
At its core, It’s Closeness, It’s Easy is about stepping into middle age and taking stock. It confronts the reality of living with the hand that’s been dealt and searching for meaning in what remains. It speaks to loss—the crushing weight of saying goodbye to a beloved 17-year old cat, the slow-motion grief of watching friends self-destruct, the inescapable passage of time as it bears down on aging parents and the self. But it also reflects the warmth of reconnection, the kind of love that never burns out but instead deepens. The feeling of picking up where things left off, untouched by the years in between.
While written over the course of two years, the recording process reflects a sense of immediacy. Rather than assembling songs piece by piece over time, the album took shape in singular, immersive sessions—less an act of construction, more an unveiling of something already waiting to take shape.
Rooted in a staunch DIY ethos, Wasluck handles every aspect of Planning For Burial project himself—recording the music, designing the artwork, and performing live as a one-man band. He books his own tours, ever and independent creative. This hands-on approach has led Planning For Burial to play hundreds of shows solidifying his place in the underground music scene. A defining moment came in 2018 when he performed at the Meltdown Festival in London, curated by Robert Smith of The Cure.
Originally released following his acclaimed sophomore album, HYBRIDISM finds Ecuadorian producer Nicola Cruz at the height of his exploratory powers. Now reissued on limited editon green vinyl, this expansive EP re-emerges with renewed relevance—blending North African rhythms, ethereal Persian motifs, and vocal fragments that evoke both ancient traditions and imagined worlds. A contemporary take on global exotica, HYBRIDISM is a vital entry in Cruz’s ever-evolving sonic journey.
'Aima’, named after the refrain sung by Igbo girls from Nigeria, creates the illusion that you’ve dusted off a lost LP. The aesthetic details recall expertly produced French exotica from the 70s, an overall feeling of warmth and character rarely pulled off with such panache.
‘Naeku,' in Cruz’s words, is "a sorrowful song in minor tonalities, but with a warrior energy, strength and forward vision: a soul departs, but a new one arrives in the name of Naeku, a maasai child. Not all grief needs to be a suffering; a feeling which I can relate to the place I come from with a Quechua word: Llaquilla - triste, pero feliz (sad, but happy). As always, the 303 adds that heart touching feeling.” If there’s a template for Multi Culti’s ethos, Cruz has synthesized the formula: Masai lamentation filtered through Quechua wisdom with a touch of 303 for the soul.
'Drom Tradisie' is a nostalgic vignette that captures the fantasy of a scenic horizon on a lost beach, a portrait done with the FM domain of synths that somehow associates with tropical imagery.
'Third Eye Dub’ takes things deeper, exploring the fractal realm of concentration, a point where the Oud (played by Nasiri) acts on the pineal gland. This inward journey through the cavernous depths of the subconscious sails on a smooth modular groove that transports the listener across this psychic expanse, a filigree of Persian harmonies (in Shur, to be exact) tracing outlines in the dark.
Finally, 'Kawe’s Dream’ ventures even further into the imaginary spaces of the mind. It is an aural reconstruction of the Tibetan Bardo Thodol, or ‘Book of the Dead’, a sacred text that guides the spirit through the passage out of the body. In Nicola’s words "To paint that depth, I had these Tibetan chants in mind, that I ended up crafting with Ableton's vocoder over a piece of Ayan’s vocals (sung in a made-up language). A few notes, and it gave the gravity I was looking for in the song.” Stuff that only a producer as capable as Cruz could pull off.
Hybridism’s five tracks are sonically diverse, yet all possess an ephemeral quality, a pastoral, transitory feeling that travels through the music - we listen to the sounds pass us by, we might even catch a hook or two, but the feeling is of sand running through our hands, deep, elusive, beautiful.
Jorge Gamarra and D’Marc Cantu - two true hardware heavyweights - come together for a split EP, marking the sixth release on Zonate.
Jorge Gamarra takes the A-side with two emotion fuelled productions. Eleven Minute Shrink opens - an instantly memorable, ear-worm melody underpinned by driving electro. A standout production with real versatility. This is followed by Prolonged Grief Disorder, a more textured and immersive piece, with tension conveying a real sense of raw emotion. D’Marc Cantu handles the B-side. Based on the outskirts of Detroit, and with over two decades of stellar releases behind him, he delivers two tracks written between 2019–2020.
Haystack explores the proverbial needle-in-a-haystack - a peak-time weapon that toys with chaos through rising energy and chopped vocals, before pulling itself back into tightly controlled club pressure. Closing the record is Madripoor, a deeper cut built around floating synth lines, capturing the essence of electro’s golden era.
Delicate Records delves into the swamp laden depths of heartbreak; inexplicable depth, darkness and twisted beauty with a 9 track full length debut from Saffron Bloom. The Iranian-American producer and performer; already prolific as Sepehr and known for his expertly raw and freaky sound, develops this alias to indulge the silver linings of agony. An illbient force of nature drawing on industrial atmospherics, trip hop flow and unbothered breakbeat influx. The record serves as an ode to the ever changing phases of lost love and grief, seasons of emotion weathering the passage of time each with their own ferocity and relation to the evolving cycle; one so personal yet universally understood.
Intro, the infrastructure of aura laced throughout the record, builds around an ominous and evocative piano soundscape bleeding with delay, intruding barely human vocal cries and percussive injections. Dripping into the DNA of Dirge of the Lonely and Jealous Desire, there comes a yearning, cries from beyond the grave; mourning relationships lost with an eerie familiarity. This sinister sanctuary bred through low slung stripped back breaks, those that echo within the soul and tie themselves to an anchor of inconspicuous growling sub bass; a signature idiosyncrasy perfectly elevated with Saffron Bloom timbre.
Quelling the urge to disintegrate, with power through distortion and commanding drumwork, corners of the B side like Curtain Call and Apathetic Rose reiterate a primal and hypnotic sonic discourse. At the heart of the LP and the artist’s ethos, it resonates through the mind and body in a psychedelic manner while remaining powerfully minimal. Time’s Up (It’s Over) featuring. Sam Weinberg feels like a fever dream, saxophone drenched and echoing throughout your brain, while album closer Ultimate Acceptance is named perfectly. A melancholic realization, soft in nature yet rich in complexity and beauty, a bittersweet conclusion.
Ambient?
Sí.
But also, a musing on transcendence. So lay down and close your eyes because, on this one, our querida joya @eezzmmeerraallddaa wonders what we all wonder every now and then: good old 'What happens when we die?' We sort of know the drill: the cling, the not wanting to go, the inevitable... the heartbreaking nostalgia of parting ways with this world... and also, the chance to end the pain. Then comes the grief: bye-bye sweetness, chao joy, adiós tenderness... then -¡ayayay! the terror, the slow fade-out, the nothingness. At last, that sparkle in the dark edge of the hiss shows us the way to the ultimate surrender, to then become a garden in the void, and finally return to mamá amor as big beautiful rainbows.
This is Ruido y Flor, the first offering of Ambie—Tón: our brave new venture into the heart of the haze.
‘Double Pink’ is the debut album by And Is Phi (Andrea Isabelle Phillips), a multidisciplinary artist from Norway and the Philippines now based in South East London. ‘Double Pink’ is a nuanced world that draws on colours and texture; with influences of Joni Mitchell and Frank Zappa, 90's R&B and Madlib’s ‘Shades Of Blue’ blending languidly to produce a base for uncovering layers of self, a deep release, and fragile new form.
Written by Andrea and co-produced with Fiona Roberts and Lorenz Okello over a nine month period; ‘Double Pink’ thematically explores the many movements of internal change, speaking from a deep inner voice inside the body. The title track is an invitation to be as unapologetically hungry as you please after a long absence of life giving passion and trust in oneself. ‘White Noise’ is a recovery song playing in your soul the first time you made it back out to the dance floor after a heart break so massive it laid rest to the person you used to be. Songs like ‘Working’ and ‘Staaar’ come from a candid and contemplative aspect. Stages of grief and resilience and wonder and wisdom are all touched upon.
“The album explores metamorphosis, liminal spaces, and the multiple faces of love”, says Andrea. “I mention love as a key ingredient, because anyone who has had to push and pull and hold and yield themselves through great loss and transformation knows it ain’t gonna happen without love. Tough times ask for double love, a stronger heart, something like a double pink”.
Andrea’s story dots between periods spent living in Norway, the Philippines and England - experiencing joy and beauty battling corruption and violence in Manila, DJing in Oslo, losing her sizable record collection in a warehouse fire before making friends and family in the jazz scene in London. Every story needs a scene, a landscape, an environment; all things Andrea visualises when writing songs.
“At my heart I am emotional and imaginative, searching for freedom for my spirit. What grounds it all is coming from a family of storytellers. My father played drums and percussion, he was a great dancer and a true collector and connoisseur of music from everywhere. My wise mother instilled in me a sense of faith and grace”.
Andrea is far from new to the scene, having performed with Steamdown, Emma Jean Thackray, Hector Plimmer, Scrimshire, William Florelle and many more as a valuable and inspiring creative force within the South London music scene. Andrea also created the album’s artwork and music videos: musicality and painting evolved from her initial creative languages of drawing and dance. All aspects are dialects of her common language: singing what can’t be painted and painting what can’t be sung.
Angelo is an LP, named after a car, featuring nine songs Brijean have crafted and carried with them through a period of profound change, loss, and relocation. It finds percussionist/singer Brijean Murphy and multi-instrumentalist/producer Doug Stuart processing the impossible the only way they know how: through rhythm and movement. The months surrounding the acclaimed release of Feelings, their full-length Ghostly International debut in 2021 which celebrated tender self-reflection and new possibilities, rang bittersweet with the absence of touring and the sudden passing of Murphy’s father and both of Stuart’s parents. In a haze of heartache, the duo left the
Bay Area to be near family, resetting in four cities in under two years. Their to-go rig became their traveling studio and these tracks, along with Angelo, became their few constants. Whereas Feelings formed over collaborative jams with friends, Angelo’s sessions presented Murphy and Stuart a chance to record at their most intimate, “to get us out of our grief and into our bodies,” says Murphy. They explored new moods and styles, reaching for effervescent dance tempos and technicolor backdrops, vibrant hues in contrast to their more somber human experiences. Angelo beams with positivity and creative renewal — a resourceful, collective answer to “what happens now?”
Angelo the car is a 1981 Toyota Celica they got off Craigslist during their first stint in Los Angeles, where Murphy and Stuart have since settled. “Such a bro-y, ‘80s dude car, it’s been super fun to drive around in a new town,” Murphy says. “He’s older than us, he’s a classic, he’s got a story.” It is a spiritual vehicle with a cinematic appeal, first dropping them off in an alleyway for the scene-setting intro, “Which Way To The Club.” The question is quickly resolved by “Take A Trip” as a cruising bassline mingles with crowd sounds, hand-claps, cuíca hiccups, whip-cracks, even a horse neigh. Brijean have found some club on this cross-dimensional trip — the kind of
imagined space or chamber within one’s self capable of “shifting a fraction of who you are,” says Murphy. They wrote the track with the simple intention to be “as free as we could be,” adds Stuart, likening the flip on the B section to a realm unlocked: ”What if the world changed completely? You open the door to a new room.”
Next is “Shy Guy,” a motivational anthem for the wallflowers among us. Murphy sets up the daydream: “We are in junior high, we’re on the dance floor, what’s going down, who is dancing, who is not, how are we gonna make them dance?” The narrator, the MC, hypes up the room as conga-driven rhythms bounce between languid synth and guitar lines. “Show me how to move...I feel something...I know you feel it too,” Murphy sings sweetly, calling back to the opening lines of Feelings, and this time the audience chants it back. It is easy to picture Brijean performing this one — something they only got to do a handful of times until more recently, opening shows for Khruangbin and Washed Out, an experience they found informative. Murphy explains, “It was inspiring to be out there and let loose more. To see how people can expand their expression on stage gave me more liberty with how I viewed my musicianship. My role for so long was to be a backup percussionist, so why would I ever leave the drums, you know? But then after playing all these runs, you see these artists and realize you can, you have permission.”
“Angelo” and “Ooo La La” deliver the danciest stretch in Brijean’s catalog to date. The title track adopts a deep house pulse replete with strings, hi-hats, and kicks. The latter opts for a funkier groove that foregoes verses in favor of warbled hums and extended breakdowns. What follows is perhaps the duo’s dreamiest run, a comedown initiated with the honey-hued interlude “Colors” drifting into “Where Do We Go?”, a tropicália reverie where Murphy contemplates the passage of time and space.
It all culminates in “Caldwell’s Way,” a fond farewell to their Bay Area community — “a part of my life that I knew couldn’t come back,” says Murphy. Above shimmering organ sounds, lush strings, and the birdcall of their former neighborhood, she wistfully articulates the uncertainty of moving on by remembering the characters dear to them. There’s the wisdom of their neighbor, Santos, who refused payment when helping them move out: “I’d rather have 100 friends than 100 dollars.” And the song’s namesake, Benjamin Caldwell Brown, a friend and club night cohort for many years. “I’m only miles away, maybe I’m just feeling lonely,” the line resigns to warm nostalgia, and “Nostalgia” runs the closing credits to this healing and transportive collection.
YIAN” (燕), means swallow in Chinese, and is part of “Siew Yian,” the name given to Chua by her parents to preserve her connection with her Chinese heritage. Just as the migratory songbird lives between places, so did Chua, the artist living in the in-between of the English, Malaysian and Chinese cultures that make up her heritage. In the absence of Mandarin as a mother tongue, music became a way to express the parts of herself that couldn’t be described in words; “YIAN” emerged as a way to heal.
A deeply introspective and fully realized vessel of creative expression (Chua self-produced and engineered eight of the ten tracks), “YIAN” emerges as less an album than a worldview, a commitment to learning and uncovering one’s own selfhood honed over Chua’s lifelong reconciliation with her own personal history and identity.
British musician, multi-instrumentalist, producer and DJ cktrl returns with the release of his new EP ‘Yield’. Born from a desire to change the narrative around contemporary Black British music, the boundary-pushing musician aims with this project to prioritise the art of bonafide musicianship. A stark departure from cktrl’s previous work, ‘Yield’ is a celestial and palpably more inward body of work that harkens back to the pre-electric age of modal jazz while simultaneously pulling in elements from the disciplines of classical and baroque music. Speaking on the project’s sonic identity, cktrl says: “I want to be able to show that you can make things from scratch again that have that feeling and beauty without having to sample an old record. Even though that’s an art-form within itself, I want to show raw orchestration and instrumentation can be the sole source” The origins of the title came from a period where cktrl was looking to find solace in himself after an introspective period of grief and heartbreak. As an intentionally instrumental project with minimal vocals, cktrl wants prospective listeners to see these new songs as guided meditations where they can wholly insert themselves in it. Eliciting and reaping whatever feelings come to the fore. Speaking on what ‘Yield’ means to him as a concept, cktrl explains: “Some people who I've asked to define the word ‘yield’ have looked at it from a harvest point of view, whereas others have seen it as something to submit to, to render, like you're giving up yourself. I see it as a barometer for how you feel - no matter if you're at your lowest or your highest vibration, you still need to show up for yourself. You still have to be present. It’s about getting the best from yourself no matter where you are in life” The new project is the follow up to last year’s ‘Zero’ which featured collaborations with esteemed contemporaries like the GRAMMY-nominated Mereba and anaiis. Upon the project’s release, it was met with a plethora of critical acclaim from highly regarded publications and platform such as British Vogue, Dazed, CRACK Magazine, Resident Advisor, NOTION, Harper's Bazaar and ES Magazine for its sprawling and experimental scope, spanning avant-garde jazz, classical music, alternative R&B and electronica. cktrl has a tune for every occasion: as content making beats by himself at home in Lewisham as he is amongst this generation’s fashion and cultural vanguards. Music has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember: from clarinet lessons throughout his school life to fond memories from his NTS days. Moulded by a unique blend of his West Indian heritage, years of classical training in both the clarinet and saxophone, cktrl strives to do what hasn’t been done before. His approach to creation is decidedly wide-ranging and broad. In fact, where sonic descriptions might fail to encompass the breadth of cktrl’s scope, three words surface when he unpacks his musical aims: freedom, range and feeling. Elsewhere, throughout his career, cktrl has been recognised and heralded by fashion and film VIPs as he firmly embeds himself within the black cultural renaissance emerging here in Britain. Acquiring a global network of creatives that include the late Virgil Abloh, Bianca Saunders, Tremaine Emory, Saul Nash, Maximilian Davis, Ahluwalia, Stephen Isaac Wilson, Sean Frank, Campbell Addy, Ib Kamara and Jenn Nkiru who secured him a cameo in Beyoncé’s ground-breaking film ‘Black Is King’.
Originally Re Eff (pronounced Ri Èf) was a bunch of texts. One hundred and fifty pages that Julien Gasc wrote by trying his hand at the art of cut-up: a literary and political act of counter-fiction based on William Burroughs’s method. It was also Julien Gasc’s response to the isolation of 2020, while he was seeking refuge in the Southwest of France, with time as far as the eye could see, and a piano.
For a long while, it hadn’t been about songs, but about expressing the indescribable by cutting randomly from books and his own notes, attempting to fleetingly strike a balance, find a beauty, a happy accident. Incidentally, it was almost by accident, while recycling a piece that he’d composed for steel guitar pedal, that Julien Gasc sketched the first draft of “Ce soir les bouteilles dansent” (“Tonight the Bottles Are Dancing”). This was combined with a version of “Rosario Bléfari”, recorded on an inexpensive Casio synthesizer. These were Re Eff’s baby steps.
While everything was at a standstill, in stasis, Julien Gasc wanted to send a group message to some friends, to his family, a message from a confinee to those who weren’t answering, friend or foe, imaginary or otherwise. It was this collective recipient that he nicknamed Re Eff. The name comes from “re” (re-) and “effacer” (erase), words found during a cut-up and transformed into ri èf for added euphony, like a facetious grief (grievance, reproach in French) without the “g”.
Like its title, a kind of serious joke, the album is one long interplay between humour and gravitas, sense and nonsense, shadow and light, aiming to fully describe feelings in terms of their ambiguous and contradictory elements.
Through a return to regular piano practice, calm recovered at a holiday resort town, and literary experimentations, to which he added transcribed dreams, as in “La scie de la vision modern” (“The Saw of Modern Vision”), Julien Gasc composed ten demos on his computer. These demos were then rerecorded at Syd Kemp’s Haha Sound studio in London, in December 2021. The mix was completed there again, in February 2022, by Syd and Julian.
Play to play and write to write, those are the keywords of Re Eff, in which memories are freely combined (“À travers le regard de l’indienne” / “Through the Amazon’s Eyes”), the theme of enclosure and passion (“Amour velours” / “Velvet Love”), melodrama ("Délivrance"), and romantic novella (“Tout ne peut pas nécessairement donner quelque chose” / “Not Everything Leads to Something”). Music resolutely oriented towards the piano, towards bold and filmic harmonic movements that make a successful form of lyrical poetry possible. Because all in all, by singing about current events – his own and those of the world – in an elegiac tone, like bards, Julien Gasc was gradually transformed from pop singer into poet.
Black magic, what is that supposed to be A spell that seeks to do harm to others Usually yes, however Taron-Trekka are animated by the best intentions, rather aim for the magic of the night and as always want to merely destroy the dancefloors of this world in a symbolic way. In fact, nobody has comes to grief with the four tracks of their "Black Magic EP" (the last part of their "Magic" triology) - nevertheless, they possess a certain magic.
However, Taron-Trekka don't make jumbo jets disappear, they don't walk through the Chinese wall or initiate other cocky tricks à la Copperfield. They are more like thimbleriggers. Or card jugglers. You know, those guys who surprise you when you least reckon with it. Those who have already outsmarted your mind when you were still thinking that it was just about to really begin. Taron-Trekka have the groove and cast a net of loops, which magically creates a tremendous energy. Loops with which the smallest shift can open up worlds. Worlds, which admittedly appear accessible, but are hardly decipherable. This way, tools become magical tracks. Furthermore, house becomes a music, which brands itself to the last corners of a soul. Just like the trick that you haven't understood until today.
A1 Black Magic Taron-Trekka's ride through the night starts funky and dry with the title track of the EP. The effects bleep here and fade away there, however over distance a magical pull develops. A pull that can only be escaped from with great difficulty.
A2 Monofile Regarding "Monofile", Taron-Trekka conjures a groove as selfwilled as enchanting by initially making vocals and keys appear on a dead straight beat and then letting this very same one stumble over itself. At the right moment it engenders at least as much "Ohs" as "Ahs" in a club, you bet.
B1 Red From black to red, from night until morning. For exactly this moment "Red" was made, which brings every last person to the next afterhour with its swing and depth.
B2 Distance Entirely against its own title, "Distance" may indeed affect one deeply. Namely then, when one wants to delve into funk as subtle as extensive. That is Jan Jelinek at a gallop or SND with more punch. Both are fantastic
FUMU christens the promising new label Return To Zero (RTZ) with »Funeral Rites on Planet Saturn«, the surrendering sophomore album from Nigerian artist, self-described »negro-producer«, hedonist, and iconoclast LINTD. With production collaboration from Porter Brook and features from Samrai (Swing Ting), Porter Brook, Sam Scott Francis (GOMID), Rizmi, and Imani Jendai.
LINTD’s work emerges as a call and response between the tender, dynamic sounds of Black music across history and the surreal reality of contemporary, vulnerable Black life – a haunting dialogue. These themes are catalysed in the Black Impossible LP Trilogy, reclaiming Black utopia through sound technologies via »Smooch Soundsystem Live at The White Hotel« for Second Born (Kop-Z, Porter Brook), and »DOGTOOTH. And Other Such Tales of the Macabre« on The White Hotel’s HEAD II outlet.
While earlier works engaged with the mania, joy, and paranoia of this impossible experience, »Funeral Rites on Planet Saturn« arrives at a soulful conclusion, allowing grief to tell a truer story. In the vein of Sun Ra, Alice Coltrane, and Octavia Butler, LINTD introduces the speculative planet Saturn as a site where impossible Black being across the world can come and rest: a site for liberation and emancipation.
»This one is an act of care towards myself, and hopefully others like me. I have proven everything I want to prove this year; this one is my elixir from all the lonely grief, a place of rest.«
Lately, it feels like the world is one endless bad news cycle. Joshua Idehen isn’t here to pretend otherwise – but on the spoken word artist’s new album, I Know You’re Hurting, Everyone Is Hurting, Everyone Is Trying, You Have Got To Try, he provides a phenomenal sonic, poetic space. Made with his creative partner, musician Ludvig Parment, the album (out 6 March 2026) is an urgent but transcendent collection that holds you through it all, filled with grief, euphoria and hope.
I Know You’re Hurting… comes after the virality of Idehen’s track Mum Does The Washing, a wry and whipsmart poem examining how the world works (which started life as a Twitter thread), set to Parment’s spacious beats. The song has seen the pair propelled beyond Idehen’s wildest dreams this past year.
Across the album, that means uplifting choirs, cozy samples and exuberant, sometimes house-tinged beats. “I am personally drawn to music that transports you to a place, or scene or mindset,” says Parment. This is topped with ruminative musings on morality and human connection; about the longer loves in life – like friendships, family – that sustain us. These come from Idehen and Parment, along with a host of friends and collaborators, including writers Leone Ross and Charlotte Manning, and vocalist Amanda Bergman, to help expand on the topics of the record without sounding preachy. Similarly, there are musical guests including saxophonist Pete Fraser and Shabaka Hutchings on flute, each helping to imbue the album with a rich warmth.
Tony Bontana, the Birmingham rapper, producer and multi-instrumentalist, releases his 35th album My Name, which is also his first to receive a proper vinyl pressing. The album follows an impressive 2025 in which he performed with Nourished By Time, Mark William Lewis, YHWH Nailgun, TAGABOW and 454.
His earlier 2025 album The Beautiful Malaise made The Wire’s annual top 50, and he appeared as the sole feature on Nourished By Time’s album The Passionate Ones, where Marcus praised his “freewheeling spirit.”
Tony’s production work has appeared on records by Billy Woods, Cities Aviv and Novelist, with upcoming collaborations planned with Blackhaine and DJ Python. The single Battered Chips has received airplay from NTS, Esk on Rinse and Huw Stephens on 6 Music.
If anyone is counting this is the 35th album by Birmingham rapper, producer, multi-instrumentalist Tony Bontana. A pioneer of his own ‘Splayed’ style of production characterised by heavily manipulated samples, non-linear rhythms and introspective lyricism. My Name is a significant landmark for Tony being the first album to receive a proper vinyl pressing. It caps an impressive 2025 which has seen Tony play live with acts such as Nourished By Time, Mark William Lewis, YHWH Nailgun, TAGABOW and 454. His previous album “The Beautiful Malaise” (one of four he released in 2025) made The Wire’s annual top 50. He appeared as the sole feature on the acclaimed Nourished By Time album The Passionate Ones on the track Jojo with NBT’s Marcus praising the rapper as having the “freewheeling spirit of a street baller out on the playground” . His productions have already appeared on records by Billy Woods, Cities Aviv and Novelist with further collabs to come with the likes of Blackhaine and DJ Python. The standout single Battered Chips has received airplay from NTS, Esk on Rinse, New Music Fix and Huw Stephens on 6.
The news arrives in tandem with the release of two powerful new singles, "The Toughening" and "The Softening", shared in recognition of World Mental Health week At its core, 'Everythinglessness' is a record about masculinity and the mental health crisis facing young men, a subject Wolfe has lived through and now gives voice to with unflinching honesty. Turning his own experiences of depression, anxiety and ADHD into something raw, intimate and cinematic, Wolfe invites listeners into a world where vulnerability is not weakness, but a form of survival. Written after a period of intense personal reckoning, including time spent in a mental health rehab facility in 2023, 'Everythinglessness' is Wolfe's most emotionally resonant work to date, an album that unpacks what it means to be a man in a society that often demands silence and stoicism instead of softness and support.
Wolfe's voice channels the emotional resonance of Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Nick Cave, while his songwriting explores everything from grief and generational trauma to love, loss and survival. The singles have been getting loadsa positive press. Radio support includes interviews and live performance on BBC London, Times Radio & 5 Live. More to come. Album launch show in Hastings, followed by UK and Europe tour supporting Alice Merton.
In the summer of 2021, Brighton-based, Scottish-Thai songwriter Helen Ganya's grandmother passed away
The grief hit the artist hard, not only because it marked the loss of her last remaining grandparent, but also because it felt like her links to being half- Thai were disintegrating, roots quaking and shifting in uncharted territories. Ganya grew up in Singapore, but spent her summers in the northeast of Thailand where her mum's side of the family is from, visiting her grandmother. Where would all those memories go now that the person at the centre of them was gone? What was her relationship to this place without that glue? And so, in an attempt to process it all, Ganya began to write. "I got my diary and wrote every single memory of my time as a child in Thailand, spending time with her, my grandad, my aunts and cousins and everything," she explains, "I had these snapshots of memories that I just wrote down because I just suddenly panicked: it was like, who am I, then?" It was for this reason that, while Helen Ganya was waiting for her acclaimed 2022 album, polish the machine, to come out, she was already working on what would become her arresting new record, Share Your Care. Ganya has been releasing music since 2015 (formerly under the moniker Dog in the Snow). In the records she's put out over the years, she's shown a proclivity towards dark and artful rock and off- kilter sounds, garnering praise from the likes of the Sunday Times, Uncut, Clash, Loud & Quiet and more. But Share Your Caremarks a new era, building on Ganya's past sonic worlds and interspersing them with traditional Thai instrumentation, resulting in a plush, luminous, psych-tinged affair that is full of feeling. The result is a triumphant, abundant record, teeming with heart and cinematic warmth.
MJ Lenderman is a songwriter born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina. The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy; the keen observations and reflections of a front stoop philosopher. Songs snake their way from a lo-fi home recording to something glossier made with longtime friends at Asheville's Drop of Sun studios, but the recording setting
doesn't seem to matter much - at its core, a Lenderman song rings true.
MJ Lenderman was recorded, mixed and mastered for digital in 2019 by Colin Miller in Asheville NC, and was self-released online to quiet but firm acclaim. Now available as a Double LP and remastered for vinyl by Heather Jones, it offers a glimpse into the formative steps of a style; focused and precise, yet expansive and rough around the edges, that remains consistent across MJ's catalogue to date.
Looking as firmly to the legacy of 90s slowcore as it does to the tenor of Magnolia Electric Co. and sound wall of Neil Young and Crazy Horse, these 9 songs clock in at just over an hour and offer warm, patient worlds of heavy colour that blow by breezily. These are songs that wrap mysterious and urgent feeling in layers of patience and clarity that unfold anew with each timeless listen.
From the humdrum to the huge; Tiia explores heartbreak, disappointment, climate change, and dying house plants. The record plays with contrasts, light and shadow, fizz and gloom. Keys melt into darker textures before guitars and drums lift them back into sparkle. It's heaviest moment is the title track, written in an airport bathroom after Tiia's father passed, yet even here, hope breaks through in irresistible vocal harmonies and inventive melodies. "To me, 'Kind Eyes' is a feelings record," Tiia says. "The grief for my dad passing sits at the centre and expands towards the edges, but there's a range of other feelings too. Sometimes they're hard to pin down and navigate but the songs are my map, trying to chart where you are and where you're going. And listeners should remember that sometimes X does mark the spot."
Lead single 'Healing' hits like a mascara- smeared midnight drive through Lynch's America. First sketched with Prince in mind, it finally found its teeth on a long, lonely walk in north-east London: a rock song hiding in plain sight. Tiia says "As soon as I had a rough idea for the driving beat, I knew I had to get Sean Berry (fellow bandmate from the once mighty Comet Sands) involved on the guitar, and the hooks all fell into place". Dusted with plush keys, on 'Numbers Game', Tiia leans into classic rock drama - warmth turning suddenly cold, the floor falling away from underneath you. "The lesson here is don't spy on your exes, but when you do, be prepared to write a song about it. It was the first track I asked Paul Rains (of Allo Darlin' fame) to play guitar on and he instantly got where I was trying to go with it. Now he's my partner, I have no idea how he feels about the lyrics!" Tiia laughs. Having also worked with Tiia's previous cult all-girl indie band The Minor Characters, Seb Kellig lent his trademark dub- inspired production influences at the legendary sonic heaven of Sausage Studios, east London, which Tiia calls "My happy place".
Tiia will again be playing keys for Allo Darlin's four UK tour dates this October followed by tour dates as Count Jaakola. 'Kind Eyes' is set for release 21st November 2025 via Tip Top Recordings (Mandrake Handshake, Japanese Television, Pearl & The Oysters, Golden Toad).
Numbers welcome New York’s Jubilee to the Glasgow based label - Main Character EP features ‘Trippin’’, a collaboration with Jersey club Queen UNIIQU3. One of the most vital voices in American underground dance music for over a decade, Jubilee brings her South Florida rave roots and East Coast sensibilities to the imprint.
Born from the dizzying emotions of love and grief, the EP opens with the cheeky cackle of UNIIQU3 on ‘Trippin’’. Marking their hotly-anticipated first collaborative release, ‘Trippin’’ bridges Jubilee’s Miami bass heritage and UNIIQU3’s Jersey club sound to create a playful lead single featuring tantalizing vocals.
Starting to work on Main Character in 2019, Jubilee revisited the project during an intense period of change and loss. Bringing in further influences from electro, Baltimore club, 90’s dance and techno to create her signature sound, Jubilee channels the fun, drama and chaos that comes hand in hand during challenging times. A deeply personal release, Jubilee looks to her friends and family for inspiration, including a sample of her parents on ‘Lucky’.
Jubilee’s debut on Numbers continues a stand-out year for the dynamic artist who released two stellar EPs earlier this year alongside celebrating 10 years of Magic City - her party series and record label which was awarded DJ Mag’s ‘Best Record Label’ in 2023 - with a run of records, merch and events across the States.
"Deeply tied to the composer’s own life, the narrative of Lacrimosa invites reflection in the face of loss. This sonic work draws inspiration from Alice Coltrane’s spiritual Eternity (1976) as well as the traditional structure of the Requiem, a mass for the dead. One of its sections, the Dies Irae, evokes Judgment Day and concludes with the Lacrimosa (literally, “full of tears”), depicting the weeping of souls in search of salvation.
In Lacrimosa, Low Jack transforms autobiographical elements into a messianic, polyglot form, unfolding across eight movements that chart the storms and serenity of grief. The piece unfolds from dawn to dusk, as the eyes open and then close. An initiatory solar cycle, from which one returns like Dante in his Divine Comedy, transcendent yet grief-stricken by the loss of a guiding presence.
Low Jack crafts one of his most intimate compositions, weaving together musical archetypes and universal narrative structures, drawing from both classical lyrical music and pop standards."
For over 11 years, Nowadays Records has been shaping the French electronic music scene with boundless energy and total artistic freedom. Much more than a label, Nowadays is a big musical family where every release, meeting and event becomes a real celebration. With over a hundred albums and nearly a thousand titles to its credit, Nowadays Records embodies musical diversity across a variety of genres: abstract hip-hop, house, electronica and alternative pop.
It's in this festive spirit that the Club Nowadays project is born, a true embodiment of the collective's vision. Through its club compilations and evenings featuring label artists and outside guests.
Today, the label continues to chart its course with the release of Club Nowadays Vol. 6, a new opus in its series of compilations, which fully embodies its vision of club music. This sixth volume brings together emblematic figures of the label and emerging artists around the following dance tracks.
Don't Lie, the first single from the compilation, is a heartfelt track born of a broken heart, but turned towards the light. Mira Ló composed this track as an act of resilience, following a break-up in love. She transforms her pain into positive energy, hoping that everyone can recognize themselves in it and find a little sweetness to soothe their own grief.
R1D1 brings together his groovy house and garage influences to create the track Marsupilami around a hand-crafted synth, sharp drums and deep bass. Influenced by hip-hop beatmaking, he incorporates vocals from radio and interviews, transformed into rhythmic elements. The name, a nod to the famous character, comes naturally through the sampled “houba houba”. Between offbeat textures and assertive groove, the track embodies R1D1's singular, hybrid universe.
OOGO & Blanka, two pioneers of the label, offer us Phô Real, a hybrid track between soulful deep house and hip-hop groove, mixing organic and digital textures. A track to get the dancefloor moving, with a delicious nod to La Fine Équipe's culinary universe.
With Tracksuit & Loafers, Yambow creates a bridge between groovy French Touch elegance and the effervescent energy of UK house, in the tradition of producers like Salute and Oppidan. The track is conceived like an acid cocktail: funky, euphoric and dancefloor-friendly. The title is a nod to cultural contrasts - between English tracksuits and French loafers - which translate into a musical interplay between sophistication and fervor.
Finally, Laaanky, the Parisian producer, breaks codes and gives free rein to his passion for raw sound, efficiency and groove on the track Bloom. Between textured house, dub echoes and Afro-tinged post-dubstep rhythms, he explores a danceable, minimalist and percussive electronica. Less is more.
"I stood on top of the mountain and looked out over the landscape. It was so beautiful that my chest hurt. The light vibrated, time stood still, and the contours dissolved for a moment. Everything had changed; I felt it then. I took their little hands so as not to lose contact with the ground. Then we ran down the mountain, scraping our knees. Still, we didn't make it. You had already put away all the nautical charts, loosened the moorings and steered out among the skerries. Mum stood waving from the jetty. You were alone, you wanted it that way. It was to be just you in the boat this time. I called out to you. I think you heard me and felt less lonely. We couldn't carry each other anymore, no matter how hard we tried. We washed our wounds on the shore and scattered tears and rose petals in the bay. The children laughed and searched for treasures under water. We called to them that it was time to come up. They were cold, and we hugged them to warmth. One ran ahead, the other up on our shoulders. Up the mountain, our mountain."
In 2020 Anna Högberg put her widely celebrated band Anna Högberg Attack on hold, retraining as a nurse whilst continuing a solo practice and playing in other groups. With Ensamseglaren she makes a spectacular return with her own ensemble — this time a double sextet — performing an album length suite of new music written in dedication to her late father — the titular ‘ensamseglaren’ pictured on the LP cover as a young boy.
(ensam in Swedish can mean both alone and lonely, seglaren = the sailor).
Shot through with renewed energy and a brutally affective emotional punch, Högberg’s formal experimentation opens up vibrant possibilities for the assembled musicians to let loose with some of their wildest and most ecstatic playing on record.
Högberg’s contention with grief leans into collective joy as method of mourning — the big band as extended family; where bonds are made through a shared experience of being together. Where everyone gets to be themselves without expectations of who they should be or what they can do. It’s a radical commitment to care — of her self and others — that animates and unifies this suite of music’s radical dynamics and variations in colour: from whisper-quiet textural intensity to harrowing distortion and double drum chaos; raucous and solemn song.
"Throughout history, humans have had different images of the transition between life and death. Imagine standing on the seashore on a summer evening and seeing a beautiful vessel being prepared for departure. The sails are hoisted. The evening breeze comes, the sails fill and the boat glides out onto the open sea. You follow it with your eyes as it heads towards the sunset. It gets smaller and smaller, until it finally disappears as a tiny dot on the horizon. Then you hear someone next to you say, ‘Now they have left us.’ Left us for what? The fact that they got smaller and smaller and finally disappeared is only how we see it. In reality, they are just as big and beautiful as when they were here, lying on the beach by our side. Just as you hear that voice say ‘Now they have left us’, there may be someone on another beach who sees them appear on the horizon, someone waiting to welcome them when they reaches their new port."
John Calvin Abney rises again from the Oklahoman prairies with his latest album Transparent Towns. The ten songs focus on how we remember, and ultimately accept, though he is not always certain the memories we carry adequately mark the moments that make us. "This record is wrapped around the passage of time, whether or not we can trust the memories that we swear on, how we forgive ourselves and others as seasons turn, and how we define what is important as we roll the boulder back up the hill," Abney says of Transparent Towns. "We build these routines and live our stories, we rely on our histories and our memories - spoken and recorded. Now, we're relying on copies of copies, memories of memories, all packed like sardines into our phones, and we're losing the ability to tell our own stories. I have to constantly remind myself, as well as redefine what matters at the end of a day." Transparent Towns is the seventh studio album for Abney, and his first since 2022's Tourist, which he crafted after spending the pandemic as an itinerant writer. In contrast Abney penned most of the album's 10 tracks during a period of introspection and convalescence while recovering from vocal cord surgery in 2023. The time to himself - "I didn't sing for nearly a year, and after surgery, I couldn't talk for a month, and couldn't sing for over three months," he says, left him contemplating how to trace his experiences in the silence. The album's title track is Abney's take on the inaccessible past, witnessing loss and grief through the years, damning the "days we let go left unsaid", and accepting the uncontrollable circumstances we are sometimes placed in. "The troubles and the joys exist vibrantly in your memory, but you're wondering if you remember correctly," Abney remarks. "I've sometimes had this sort of confusion between memory and dreams - you crafted this ideal in your head of how things were or might be, in order to soften the blow of a harsher reality." The places we inhabit dictate how our memories form, and for Abney, there is one place to which he is constantly drawn: Oklahoma. Although he was born in the biggest little city in America, Reno, Nevada, he grew up learning guitar and piano in Tulsa, playing bars and DIY spaces from Norman to Stillwater. His affinity for the land that raised him is evident in the production of Transparent Towns. Abney self-produced the record, tracking most of it at Cardinal Song outside of Oklahoma City, with Michael Trepagnier handling mixing and engineering. The band was comprised mostly of Sooner State musicians too, along with Lydia Loveless and John Moreland contributing harmony vocals. His signature vulnerable voice and lyrical handiwork comes through in each of the songs, along with his penchant for alternative pop melodies set against colorful chords and subtle soundscapes. Having toured for years backing up artists like Moreland, Wild Child, Ben Kweller, and S.G. Goodman, Abney embraces a lead role again, as he presses forward with the loving lament and defiant joy throughout Transparent Towns, calling us to leave behind the pressures we place on our ourselves and recognize that just because there is an ending, it doesn't mean it's the end.
Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth
Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth
Los Angeles trio Faetooth sophomore album Labyrinthine is a deeply felt exploration of emotional weight: grief, memory, uncertainty, and the quiet work of growing around your own wounds. Following the band's 2022 debut Remnants of the Vessel, which introduced the band’s signature blend of heaviness and mysticism, Labyrinthine pushes further inward. True to its name, the album winds through a maze of feeling and form, where meaning is never handed over easily. It’s rooted in self-discovery through disorientation, the idea that understanding comes not from escape, but from getting lost. Ari May (guitars and vocals), Jenna Garcia (bass and vocals), and Rah Kanan (drums) manage to stay grounded in the immediate in parallel with fantasy themes of the band's namesake. Labyrinthine holds space for this contradiction; tenderness and intensity, restraint and release. The band's self-branded “fairy doom” sound fits between shoegaze, doom, and grunge. It isn’t just texture; it’s a framework for navigating the unsaid. Like the myth that inspired its title, Labyrinthine doesn’t end in victory, but in confrontation—not with escape, but with the Minotaur. Only here, the Minotaur isn’t a monster. It’s something quiet and more familiar: unresolved feelings, old memories, and sadness that refuse to stay buried. The album winds like a maze, sometimes heavy, sometimes hushed, always intentional. Faetooth isn’t chasing catharsis. They’re creating space to reflect, to feel, and maybe to get a little lost along the way.
Artist quote: "White Noise" emerged from a diary entry, and is a relentless and intense reflection on inner turmoil. We’re often drawn to the familiar, even when we don’t realize we’re reaching out for it. It is an emotional upheaval, carrying harsh truths that weigh heavily on the heart. Guitarist, Ari May mentions, “Performing the song always takes me back to a specific place, even if just for a moment.”
“Riffs and melodies brimming with loneliness and longing… this band’s incantations affect my mood the whole day after listening.” — The Sleeping Shaman
“Bringing otherworldly hazy doom goodness… dreamy clean vocals, echoing harsh vocals, entrancing riffs, meditative shoegaze melodies.” — Nine Circles
“Slow, lumbering behemoths of great weight… couched in a melancholy atmosphere and explosions of crushing heaviness.” - Where Strides The Behemoth
"Against all odds!" ETERNAL DARKNESS bass player since 2019 Jeff Hausel knows what he's talking about. It took this cult death/doom Swedish mob thirty-five years to finally come up with their first proper album, only to see them splitting on the eve of its official release on Pulverised Records. But make no mistake: formed way back in Eskilstuna, Sweden in 1990 and revered ever since as one of Scandinavia most uncompromised death/doom entity ever, their self-titled full-length - produced, recorded and mixed by longtime friend and CRYPT OF KERBEROS/TYRANT guitar player Peter Bjärgö in their former rehearsal room - is probably the heaviest, as in HEAVIEST, thing you'll hear this year. Joining for the occasion the original members Make Pesonen (drums) and Janne Heikkinen (vocals) are John Carlsson on lead guitar (ETERNAL AUTUMN), Kristian Henriksson on rhythm guitar (UNPURE, SVARTSYN) and Jeff Hausel on bass. Eight brand new songs, written in between 2019 and 2024, marked by personal tragedy and about "the process of death, loss and grief", completed by the aptly chosen famous Italian 14th century tapestry, Triumph Of Death. Maybe their last move but talk about leaving with a bang. In Death!
Smut is the project of lyricist Tay Roebuck, guitarists Andie Min and Sam Ruschman, drummer Aidan O’Connor, and bassist John Steiner. Roebuck, Ruschman and Min started the band a decade ago in Cincinnati, Ohio. Since then, they’ve played alongside Bully, Wavves, and Nothing. After years in the Cincinnati DIY scene, they made their Bayonet Records full-length debut, How the Light Felt. The record was a revelation. Pitchfork called it “a rigorous, decade-spanning study,” and a “well-oiled spin on late-’80s guitar pop.” Under the Radar called it “pop perfection,” that “blends subtle hooks with wistful lyrics.” It was a record that explored grief through the lens of melancholic dreampop, using drum machines and layered, intricate melodies.
Tomorrow Comes Crashing, Smut's first record with O'Connor and Steiner, sees the band re-energized and trained on the limitless potential that comes with making music with people you love. Galvanized with a new lineup, Smut focused on creating a record that possessed the same towering intensity as the records that first got them into music: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, Relationship of Command. The outcome is ten of their most intense, bombastic, and focused songs to date.
Catharsis bursts through the seams throughout Tomorrow Comes Crashing. “Syd Sweeney, ”inspired by the actress, is the record's centerpiece. It's about how profoundly strange it can be to be a woman, to be misunderstood by people who don’t even know you. The song is driven by chugging guitars and big, rolling drums. In other words: stadium rock about perception. Paramore meets Dookie. “She connects to the youth and the girls in the water/All she amounts to is someone’s daughter,” sings Roebuck in one particularly poetic moment. The song comes to a thrashing metal-inspired breakdown. It’s ecstatic.
To make the record, Smut recorded “as live as they could,” alongside Aron Kobayashi-Ritch(Momma) in a studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn, over the course of ten days. “We have so much energy right now,” says Roebuck. Right before they went off to New York, Roebuck and Min got married, with the rest of the band by their side. The recording was a true labor of love — driving from Chicago with all their equipment, returning from 12 hour studio days to sleep on friends' couches and floors, Roebuck completely blowing her voice by the end. Smut has always been DIY. Because they love it. Because they have to do it–there’s no other option. Tomorrow Comes Crashing is the culmination of that DIY spirit: making a record that completely encompasses the intensity, moodiness, and emotion of their journey so far.
