DROWNED BY LOCALS News

For Louis Johnstone, making music has never been about waiting for the right equipment, the right environment or the right moment. Across more than a decade of work as both Wanda Group and A Large Sheet Of Muscle, the Huddersfield-based musician has built one of British experimental music's most singular bodies of work by embracing whatever happens to be within reach, allowing instinct, improvisation and circumstance to shape the outcome as much as conscious composition.
"'Chinese Benefits' was made over a year ago on an iPhone that had a broken microphone and was on its way out," he explains. "I have made many records after this with clearer sounds. Sharper ideas. That is never the point, though. You work with what you hold in your hands."
Recorded entirely on a failing iPhone 6 that stopped working shortly afterwards, 'Chinese Benefits' isn't a record about damaged technology. It is a record shaped by it. Rather than resisting the limitations of the device, Johnstone allows them to become part of the music itself, where distortion, interference and deteriorating fidelity are inseparable from the recording process.
Across twenty brief but disquieting pieces, corroded spoken word, environmental recordings, abrasive noise and fractured electronics continually emerge and dissolve. Voices drift in and out of range, reverberation stretches everyday sounds beyond recognition, and bursts of white noise interrupt moments of uneasy calm. There are echoes of radio transmissions, field recordings and musique concrète throughout, yet 'Chinese Benefits' never settles comfortably into any one tradition. Instead, it inhabits a space where accident and intention become almost impossible to separate.

That philosophy has long defined Johnstone's work. Through a vast catalogue of self-released recordings on his Umbro G imprint, alongside releases for labels including The Trilogy Tapes, he has consistently favoured immediacy over refinement, embracing imperfection not as an aesthetic but as a practical reality. His recordings are less concerned with perfection than with capturing the conditions in which they were made.
Looking back on 'Chinese Benefits', however, Johnstone's own assessment is characteristically understated.
"Listening back fully, it's quite a nice record actually. Fair enough, I make them and never really listen again TBH. Even better, it was the last Large Sheet Of Muscle record made on that phone with grit and damaged guts."

Like much of his work, 'Chinese Benefits' offers few fixed meanings. Its titles remain cryptic, its voices partially obscured and its structures deliberately unstable. What emerges instead is a deeply personal document of process over perfection, where the limitations of the tools become inseparable from the music they produce, and where the act of making something matters far more than the conditions in which it was made.

DJ DIE SOON is the apocalyptic alter-ego Daisuke Imamura, whose performances of masked malice have been a fixture in the Berlin underground for the past decade. His latest record My Brothel The Wind takes inspiration from Sun Ra at his most grotesque, conjuring a distorted phantasmagoria with an eclectic crew of compatriots like Rully Shabara, Sara Persico, and longtime collaborator Kiki Hitomi. Film director Hiroo Tanaka’s visual contributions in the album art, poster, and music video complete the album’s narrative, telling a story not of villainy but of phantom caprice in a dying world.
My Brothel The Wind shows DJ DIE SOON as an alchemist of distortion, transmuting the club-forward beats of his 2020 debut Kappa Slap and the seething horrorscapes of DIEMAJIN, his 2022 collaboration with Tokyo vocalist MA. Imamura’s obsession with noise stems from his upbringing in Tokyo, where he grew up hearing the deafening roar of trains every day. “The buildings were really tall, so the sounds reflected so much and it was so loud that you couldn’t even have a conversation on the phone. Hearing this noise every minute when living in this flat, it became a normal thing,” he says. While most would content themselves with avoiding loudness, DJ DIE SOON seeks to unpack its visceral potential.
DJ DIE SOON’s subterranean productions form a monstrous gestalt with the eclectic contributions of his network of co-conspirators. “Unfinished” and “Directions” are pulsating chimeras that highlight animalistic vocalizations from Hitomi and Shabara; Italian MC Franco Franco’s verses snake underneath the noisy onslaught. The tectonic textures of “Dandelion Crackers” are courtesy of multi-instrumentalist Laure Boer’s handmade stone synth. Sara Persico’s mangled vocables hang as fleshy reminders of human fragility on “SAQ4IME”; in the Hiroo Tanaka-directed music video, the track’s sonic uncanniness is made cinematic, with an ambient dread that references Hiroshi Teshigahara’s 1964 psychological thriller Woman in the Dunes.
While Sun Ra’s intergalactic Moog reached for the stars, DJ DIE SOON plunges into the depths of hell. “Everybody, Shake Your Body, We Chill At Party” feels like the sonic equivalent of a wax museum burning to the ground, rigid smiles melting into the fire. Rather than a vision of the future, My Brothel The Wind is a laugh-cry of despair in the face of a Hadean present. DJ DIE SOON confronts the world with a new hand-made mask, reborn in the ashes.

"The machine looms—it watches you from within. The finger points, but the face is missing."

The Bristol/Amman connection just got even deeper… following DBL's impressive string of Avon-infused heaters (check the recent scorchers from Nzumbe, Content Provider and 2023's 'Weld'). And we're well informed there's even more of this cross-continental greatness to come…

But first...

Kinlaw & Franco Franco. ATC's original prodigal sons. A two-headed nephilim with an ever-growing tally of near-biblical performances – leaving shook audiences coughing dust for months after. Resurrected for 2025.

Those familiar know their hallowed-dogma – brimming with cyberpunk prophetics, surveillance state paranoia and rusted gothic futurism. Each chilling sermon accompanied by a bespoke blend of crusted sonics, taut future-concrète prangers and only the finest industrial-trappist beats.

Back with renewed precision. 11 hot-kneelers for your mental.

On 'Faith Elsewhere', they lead the congregation into uncharted waters with pop-confessional, 'Pitstop 2024'. There's a fresh revamp of the beloved feudal anthem, 'Crocs on the Plough'. Next, a long-fermented, yet still refreshing, kind of chamber-wave on the album's self-titled track. And there's even a touch of the devotional in the final ethereal reprise… Plus, there are plenty more teachings to be found elsewhere…

The writing's on the wall. Accept no false idols. Now pull up your cushion and kneel at their altar. It might just be their best yet….

"In the holiness of their temples, unsuspecting worshippers were being observed by indiscreet eyes."

CINEMATIC VOYAGE THROUGH COSMIC RITUAL AND ETERNAL SOUND - a work that exists outside time—equally at home in the temples of antiquity and the neon-lit voids of speculative futures, merging ceremonial percussion, interstellar synthwaves, and wordless incantations into a 31-minute ritual for the infinite. Born from a three-year metamorphosis between studio and stage and rooted in a Takhmira (a Zar ritual poem), Ninety Nine Eyes channels the archetypal quest—a search for the “land where light is seated.” Its soundscapes evoke the grandeur of forgotten civilizations and the hum of celestial machinery: droning mizmar lines and drowning tombak and duff rhythms dissolve into maximalist synth storms; choirs of phantom voices rise like starlight through the static of ages. - Sound: Structured like a Sufi Hadra, the LP’s undulating peaks pull at old ways of communing with the divine - Part I builds tension, a breath before the storm, while Part II erupts into unfettered synth-drenched trance, gates flung open - only the listener can close the circle through their own interpretation.- For fans of Vangelis’ Blade Runner, Jon Hassell’s Fourth World, Alice Coltrane’s spiritual jazz, Autechre’s glitch rituals, and Pauline Oliveros’ deep listening.- Production: Mixed by VII, mastered by Heba Kadry (Björk, Ryuichi Sakamoto).- Artwork: Features a portrait of Yunis by Cairo underground photographer Kafrawy and hand-sewn costume design by Alaa Eideh, with graphic design by Giovanni Murolo (Countersubject). EU Tour spring 25

Love in the time of collectively assured techno-capitalist-nuclear holocaust! It’s the endless summer the Brits have been harping on about since they think they won the World Cup. The soundtrack is the debut album of the Content Provider; where Octatrack illbient and industrial chanson mesh in a singed postcard addressed to the UK Border Force and co-signed by aliens plucked from the petri dishes of Young Echo, Cold Light and Avon Terror Corps.
It’s a name she tried to keep anonymous, but Drowned By Locals and Bokeh Versions are breaking contract to reveal that the Content Provider is in fact the shock production alias of DALI DE SAINT PAUL. Patron saint of Bristol’s self-destructive improv idols EP/64 as well as post-feminist chamber collective Viridian Ensemble, avant-terror duo Harrga and constant collaborator with the likes of *breathe* Moor Mother, Valentina Magaletti, Mariam Rezaei, Vincent Moon, Maxwell Sterling, Ossia, Ben Vince.
And isn’t it such a strange release? And won’t people be surprised? Endless Summer is grubby and heartfelt, defiant and hopeful, with flecks of warped reggae on E-System nudging the freeform dream balladry of A Feeling and Sunday Morning, Kode9 & Spaceape-worthy dread poetry of Close Ur Eyes next to anthemic electro-crush of Overdrive. Even to those that know her well, and EVERYONE with their belly in the Bristol underground knows her, Endless Summer is a revelation. Perhaps the apex of the known Dali-verse……where her live gigs have boiled with an experimental volcanic vocal force, Endless Summer is twisted, syrupy, sultry, POP.

DIEMAJIN is the duo of Berlin-based producer DJ DIE SOON (Daisuke Imamura) and Tokyo-based vocalist MA. Their self-titled debut is equal parts scrambled hip-hop, simmering noise and spectral Tokusatsu soundtrack. A set of cursed beats and possessed raps inspired by Japanese sci-fi and supernatural-horror films from the 1960s.
The pair, both originally from Japan, first collaborated live at an event in Berlin organised by Morphine Records in 2019. But the eleven tracks on their self-titled debut were made by swapping beats, sounds and acapellas across the internet. Editing, arranging and degrading them into the collection presented here.