Cerca:dr shiver

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes. The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process. Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever. The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before. ‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms. In a world where music has increasingly become background content, making albums remains lifeblood for Fake: “It makes me realise how long; twenty years is ages! It’s weird to see how much the world has changed. Release day back then you did fuck all, now you spend all day on socials. When I grew up the people who made the electronic music I was into were quite mysterious, and the artwork was very abstract. There was a massive distance between you and that music, and that was a key part of it, really. Now it helps to be an extrovert, and I'm just not, but the album marks the first time my face has graced the cover art. I’ve never wanted to do this before, I'm very shy, and generally I don’t like being seen,” he professes. “But, twenty years in, I supposed I could try something new. I'm very lucky that I'm somehow surviving in this world, where the media world favours extroverts and interesting looking people. It’s not my world but somehow I’m still in it.” Evaporator continues to prove Nathan’s necessary presence, with some of his most engaging, varied, and magical music yet.

DJ Support: Ashley Beedle, Phil Mison (Ibiza legend), Nick The Record, Kenneth Bager (Music For Dreams), Ross Allen (NTS, Worldwide FM), Simon Dunmore, Cedric Woo (Beauty & the Beat), Ban Ban Ton Ton, The Mighty Zaf (Love Vinyl), Femi Fem (Young Disciples), Jay Negron (NYC legend), Bruce Forest (Better Days, NYC), Bruce Tantum (NYC), Colleen “Cosmo” Murphy, Mr Shiver, Hugh Mane, Eccentrics Disco, Eclectics Disco, Fannoire Ge, Percebes Records (Lisbon), For Mankind (Pikes, Ibiza), S/A/M (Cafe Del Mar, Ibiza).

Winner of the 2020 Bob James “Black Lives Matter” remix competition on François Kevorkian’s World Of Echoes Facebook page, Love For Black Lives is available on vinyl for the first time, alongside 2 brand new mixes, on this 4-track EP. It is the debut release on Hobbes Music’s new sub-label Noetic Rhythm, dedicated to releasing music that brings people together on the dancefloor.

Leonidas debuted in 2012 with Sequential EP on Kay Suzuki's Round In Motion label, gaining praise from industry legends. He has collaborated with Hobbes on several releases, including the Balearic hit Web of Intrigue, which topped Bill Brewster’s 2017 DJ poll. His music has appeared on compilations like DJ Harvey’s The Sound of Mercury Rising Vol II, as well as BBC Radio 1 & 6 music.

‘Açid Blüüs Räägs Vol.2’ is the latest evolution of the sound of last year’s Volume 1. The debut album was described by Joe Banks for Shindig! Magazine as; “Shivering slabs of drone blues transcendentalism…a burning junkyard of sheet metal blues… Hot stuff.” Volume 2 builds on the skronk blues guitar, sax and electronic drones of it’s predecessor, to explore cosmic free jazz, concrete exotica and dub, channelling influences of Moondog, Terry Riley, 75 Dollar Bill and Wolf Eyes. Playing like the imagined film soundtracks to a dystopian, re-wilded, post eco crash world in the style of Tarkovsky's ‘Stalker’ and ’Solaris’, Jodorowsky's surreal desert western ‘El Topo’, or the early novels of JG Ballard. This new collection sees the addition of minimal analogue drum machine loops as well as live instrumental contributions from the new players of the ever evolving Invocation band, plus some superstar guest contributors.
Featuring five brand new tracks, including the forthcoming single; ‘Cosmic Fanfare’, has already picked up BBC 6 Music support from Gideon Coe. The new album was mixed by Alex McGowan (aka Captain Future) of Space Eko Studios and features Invocation band regulars Rick Jensen of Apocalypse Jazz Unit, Skronk and Oneirologist on sax and bass clarinet, Will Emms aka Tiki Eerie on melodica, horns and claviola, plus special guest appearances from Duke Garwood on clarinet and Mikey 'Moondog' Chestnut of Snapped Ankles on bass synth. “….Acid fried kosmiche blues meets drone raag transcendentalism”. Jonny Halifax is a primitivist free blues outsider, sonic shaman of the acid fuzzed lap steel guitar, demented blower of the howling harmonica of doom. His new band project now combines avant swamp blues heaviosity with kosmic free jazz experimentalism in a fluid collective of godless raag brut improvisations - sonic visions of an hallucinatory apocalyptic near future. Inspired by Henry Flynt’s avant bluegrass experiments fusing country blues with eastern acoustic musical stylings, Spacemen 3’s contemporary sitar music, and the monolithic drone doom immersion of Sunn 0))), THE JONNY HALIFAX INVOCATION build hypnotic instrumental soundscapes using lap steel and homemade slide guitars, harmonica and alto sax. Underpinned by layers of acoustic and electronic drone instruments and fed through an arsenal of pedalboard electronics that would make Kevin Shields weep, the blues are transmogrified, unhinged, reduced and re-imagined as intoxicating, trance-inducing, feedback-drenched noise paintings. THE JONNY HALIFAX INVOCATION follows Jonny’s junkshop skronk blues one man band Honkeyfinger, and the Julian Cope endorsed gospel fuzz psychedelia of Jonny Halifax & The Howling Truth, whilst not forgetting his ambient drone metal side project; Deathenteredinerror. His musical CV also includes studio contributions to tracks by Andrew Weatherall’s Two Lone Swordsmen, UK metal behemoths Orange Goblin, Heck and Melting Hand.

Have you noticed how the flood of daily news numbs your senses, dulling the ability to feel anything good? As if the world is slowly turning into a place meant for someone else - strangers whose faces you’d rather not see, whose voices you’d rather not hear. Perhaps it’s only a passing distortion
on the path to a better future - a glitch in the grand narrative of human progress. When the world above burns with confusion, we descend deeper underground - to outlast the chaos. Let the blood cleanse the word’s body; let the beat be our sanctuary. Welcome to Bunker No. 999. But even in exile, we need supplies. From the cold circuitry of soulless digital boxes - forced through the jaws of filters, resonators, and endlessly decaying reverberations - emerges a collection of DJ tools built to endure what unfolds above. Sounds to make you last, to make you tremble, to send shivers through the black box we call the dance floor. The rise of 999 Goosebumps begins - a Barcelona-born label debuting with Alex Pletnev’s transcendent first release, featuring Trancesetters of Westphalia on the remix.

Belgian pop superstar Max Colombie, aka Oscar and the Wolf, announces new
album ‘The Shimmr’, on PIAS Recordings.
Enter Colombie’s world and you’ll discover a uniquely dazzling and shimmering
fusion of contemporary R&B and a more European electro-pop sensibility, uniting
shivery melody, shifting beats and vocals steeped in drama, sensuality and yearning.
Colombie hears, “a twilight zone where it doesn’t sound dark nor happy. It’s like the
name Oscar and the Wolf; it’s a balance between light and dark, this perfect
combination between the sun and the moon. It’s beautiful and scary at the same
time.”
Oscar and the Wolf’s official debut, the 2012 EP ‘Summer Skin’, showed his gifts
arrived virtually fully formed, but he truly came of age in 2014 with his debut album
‘Entity’. Balanced between dancefloor anthems and slow jams, ‘Entity’ went 4 times
Platinum in his native Belgium and quickly jettisoned Colombie to superstar status.
He sold out arenas in Belgium and the Netherlands, taking the penultimate
headlining slot (behind Muse) at 2016’s Lowlands festival before headlining
Belgium’s Pukkelpop festival, sharing the bill with Rihanna and LCD Soundsystem.
Released in 2017, the second Oscar and the Wolf album, ‘Infinity’, went Platinum at
home, whilst amassing a huge Middle Eastern fanbase across Turkey (where his
2018 tour sold out in minutes), Egypt, Israel and Iran. On stage, Colombie cut a
commanding and lithe performer, often garbed in shimmering outfits that interacted
with the dynamic lighting.
The new Oscar and the Wolf album, ‘The Shimmer’, distils the essence of Colombie’s
sound and vision in its title and the image of Colombie on the album cover, bathed in
starry light. The album is a benchmark of his transformation on record; whereas
‘Entity’ was recorded in a barn, “very lo-fi with no access to gear,” he recalls.
‘The Shimmer’’s bold, rich and layered dynamics were captured at ICP Studios in
Brussels, home to, “one of the best live rooms in Europe, with all this vintage gear.”
More intimate moments were added at Colombie’s house outside the city, “those
magic takes we made just after we’d written something, which are so hard to capture
again.”
By ‘we’, Colombie includes producer Jeroen De Pessemier and multi-instrumentalist
Ozan Bozdag, who had both worked on ‘Infinity’ (and Bozdag on ‘Entity’ too). “It’s a
magical trio,” Colombie says. “Everyone is allowed to be themselves, and to explore
themselves. I’m really happy with ‘The Shimmer’ because I hear a more mature
version of myself. I always want things to grow, and I’m proud that I allowed myself to
not follow people’s expectations and reproduce what had been successful before.
There are no four-to-the-floor clubby pop songs this time.”
Instead, ‘The Shimmer’ more accurately reflects Colombie’s personality. “My
emotions run from super-happy to super-melancholic in a split second,” he says. “To
me, ‘The Shimmer’ feels like the soundtrack to a blockbuster, with many types of
tracks and themes. It’s always changing."

»What about Love« is MONKyMAN's personal journey through solitude, love and connection: An honest, heart-driven record exploring spirit, romance and community in a chaotic world.

Written over the course of three years and recorded live on analog gear only with no loops or plugins, the album blends warmth, vulnerability, and a message of hope. Produced with Drew Deal at Sundown Studios with guests from all over the planet, it invites you into a space of reflection, belonging and joy.

Genre-defying and soul-centered, the album unites meditative moments and heavy grooves, moving from the question »What about love?« to the simple realization: »I feel better in love.«
Downloads

The third collaborative album by ASC & Sam KDC is here, entitled Surfacing. A six track excursion through sombre mood setting drones, relaxing hypnotic melodies, with a heavy slice of melancholy setting the scene throughout.
Pressed on clear/white heavyweight 180gram vinyl, with a high quality picture sleeve, designed by ASC.

The four horsemen are the rhythm section of The 18th Parallel riding down the plains to the sound of an heavyweight stepper inspired by the late 70s playing of the Revolutionaries at Channel One. Slow, refined and powerful, the interaction of the drums, bass and organ leaves room to an otherworldly horns chant calling everyone to dance and sing along. Probably one of Fruits Records heaviest release ever!

The first 7“ of this series features Spanish based UK singer Benjammin known for his superb work with Roberto Sánchez. He chants down all ‘Warmongers’. His singing style reminiscent of BurningSpear’s greatest days sends shivers down your spine! Dub by Roberto Sánchez on the flip.

SY Rockers is the new project from Ryan Aitchison aka Mella Dee and KALLIDA Festival bossman Reuben G. Their story goes all the way back to 2009, when Reuben invited Ryan to be a resident for his party LSS at Hi-Fi Club in Leeds.

The pair went on to bond over their shared love of bass-led music in the UK underground, a sound that was especially important to their native South Yorkshire. Fourteen years on, Ryan and Reuben revisit those early inspirations as SY Rockers. Their debut EP is a slickly produced expression of bleep, UK techno, bassline and dub, redrawing lines between the sound legacies of cities like Sheffield, Bradford and Leeds across three tracks.

True to those roots, the result is a hypnotic blend of raw drums and subsonic impact. ‘Windy Dub’ introduces the record with a hazy, heads-down bass, occasionally shivering into a cavernous space echo before it locks back into a haunting synth hook. ‘Modem’ does what it says on the tin: gameboy tones bounce around a warm sub, calling back the ‘less is more’ aesthetic of the original bleep era. Finally, ‘Rhythm Resonate’ zooms in on where it all started—the drum machine. 909s, lasers and a touch of perc combine to create the ultimate techno tool.

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

How do you define an artist who has never performed live, nor DJ’ed, nor ever had his photograph published and has never partaken in an interview? By the music of course. Jürgen Paape has proven this time and time again. How? Listen. Here. Right. Now. Co-owner of Kompakt. The house’s most elusive member remains the uncompromised, untainted shining star. He, who has launched the label with its very first release “Triumph“, Jürgen Paape has left a legacy of music that is a true core of the sound which Kompakt’s foundation is built on.

We celebrate Jürgen Paape with “Kompilation”. A well deserved opportunity to hear Jürgen Paape for fans and newcomers – revived and remastered and for the very first time on double vinyl – in a way that it plays through like a full length album. Some of the biggest moments of Kompakt over a three decade history are here; the chorus of “So Weit Wie Noch Nie” remains timeless – there to send shivers of pleasure down your spine as we feel at the end of exhaustive end of a night. “Take That” is an anthem for the still to be built rock stadiums of tomorrow. It’s a bonafide hit that put him in the charts in Australia and Italy. – “Come Into My Life” remains undeniably one of Kompakt’s catchiest pop tracks ever. “So Wird Die Zeit Gemacht” – builds on Paape’s signature sound with the spirit and vitality of classic house and a truly demented vocal hook. Then there’s the unique Schaffel quirkiness of “Ofterschwang” and so many other hits Jürgen Paape has delivered over the years. Well, it’s Paape!
Wie definiert man einen Künstler, der noch nie live aufgetreten ist, der noch nie als DJ aufgelegt hat, der noch nie ein Foto von sich veröffentlicht hat und der noch nie an einem Interview teilgenommen hat? Natürlich über die Musik. Jürgen Paape hat das immer wieder bewiesen. Und wie? Hört selbst. Hier. Genau. Jetzt. Er ist Miteigentümer von Kompakt. Das am schwersten fassbare Mitglied des Hauses bleibt sein kompromissloser, ungetrübter leuchtender Stern. Er, der das Label mit seiner allerersten Veröffentlichung “Triumph” aus der Taufe hob, hat ein musikalisches Vermächtnis hinterlassen, das der wahre Kern des Sounds ist, auf dem Kompakts Fundament aufgebaut ist.

Wir feiern Jürgen Paape mit “Kompilation”. Eine wohlverdiente Gelegenheit, Jürgen Paape für Fans und Neueinsteiger wieder zu entdecken – aufgefrischt, remastered und zum ersten Mal auf Doppel-Vinyl. Einige der größten Momente in der drei Jahrzehnte währenden Geschichte von Kompakt sind hier zu hören; der Refrain von “So Weit Wie Noch Nie” bleibt zeitlos – er lässt einem noch immer Schauer der Freude über den Rücken laufen, als würden wir nach durchtanzter Nacht morgens aus dem Club taumeln. “Take That” ist eine Hymne für die noch zu bauenden Rockstadien von morgen. Es ist ein echter Hit, der ihn sogar in Australien und Italien in die Charts brachte. “Come Into My Life” bleibt unbestreitbar einer der eingängigsten Popsongs von Kompakt überhaupt. “So Wird Die Zeit Gemacht” baut auf Paapes charakteristischem Sound auf, mit dem Geist und der Vitalität von klassischem House und einem wahrhaft verrückten Vocal-Hook. Und dann ist da noch die einzigartige Schaffel-Schrägheit von “Ofterschwang” und so viele andere Hits, die Jürgen Paape im Laufe der Jahre abgeliefert hat. Well, it’s Paape!

GRAILS don’t mince words. Awesomely communicative but entirely instrumental, this dynamic band’s violin, guitars, piano, and drums collide with sober melodies and massive emotion. At alternate moments, Grails can sound vaguely classical, Eastern European, Irish, like the lost tapes of Pauline Oliveros, and, you know, rock. They’re not really like anything else on the Neurot roster, but they’ve got something in common with all the Neurot bands: a commitment to intense music that forges new paths and, yeah, communicates in the most real way possible.
Grails have their fair share of ambient noise - shivery violins, a trickle of a high-hat, the amplified scrape of a guitar string - but their music is based on strong, narrative melodies that resonate in the heart. At times it sounds delicate, but they never cower; Grails ROAR, even when they’re being quiet.
The Burden of Hope is the debut LP, following a pair of self-released, eponymous ep’s in 2000 and 2002. The LP is the culmination of a year’s worth of recordings, including a reinterpretation of Sun City Girls’ classic “Space Prophet Dogon.”
Grails are gathered in Portland, Oregon from Baltimore, Little Rock, Louisville, Chapel Hill, and Reno. As an ensemble, their respective backgrounds in hardcore, classical, folk, and rock blend seamlessly. Formed in late 2000 to execute live the bedroom recordings of guitarist Alex Hall, the once-tentatively-assembled group found unexpected success with both audiences and local press. Originally formed under the moniker Laurel Canyon, the name of the group was changed to Grails to coincide with the release of The Burden

2022 Re Edition

STAREAWAY is Markus Guentner from Regensburg, of Kompakt- and Ware-fame, and Heiko Badje from Hamburg, the man behind saudade-driven pop-band La Grande Illusion. Exploring the possibilities of combining Guentners critically acclaimed adventures in ambient scapes and Badjes melodies and distinctive singing, their track 'Baghira", as an early result, was selected on Kompakts 'Pop Ambient 6 compilation in 2005. Their first EP as STAREAWAY, called 'Learn How To Love Me", was released on Hamburg-based label Couldn.t Care More in 2011 including a remix by deep house icon Osunlade crossing all borders, yet feeling so natural, and the somewhat timeless electronic pop reference 'Unwise". Now STAREAWAY come up with their first album 'No Life In This Ghost Town' (again on Couldn.t Care More); seven sketches between song and track deliberately carved from a shimmering wall of electronic sound by guitars, spiritualized voices and subtle melodies. It.s caressing and thoughtful, but there is also a darkness that makes you shiver. Glowing embers in far away windows. STAREAWAY combine a vision of sound with multitudes of micro-organisms which take turns no one can forsee. And what may appear as a mere coincidence is in fact a concentrated search. They are seekers of the things lying underneath. STAREAWAY's 'No Life In This Ghost Town' is mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri. It will be available as Double Vinyl (+ Download-Code) and, of course, digitally. Layout by JL Prozess (Markus Guentner), artwork by Claudia Kugler.

Vic Velvet ist das Soloprojekt von Victoria Aron, bekannt aus der Wiener Indie-Punkrock'n`-Roll-Band Topsy Turvy. Das Debütalbum mit dem Titel "My Heart Feels Like a Cowboy's" wurde unter der Leitung ihres Freundes Felix Schnabl, alias Salamirecorder, auf einem 4-Spur-Tonbandgerät aufgenommen. Inspiriert vom Sound und Feeling der 60er Jahre lassen diese Songs das Herz wirklich wie das eines Cowboys fühlen, der auf der Suche nach seinem endlosen Weg nach Hause ist. Nostalgisch und herzlich dreht sich bei Vic Velvet alles um Liebe, Hoffnung und Träume, denen eine junge Frau oder ein Cowgirl nachjagen möchte.

As Nathan Fake rises from the nocturnal subterranea and rave catharsis of his previous records, on Evaporator, he resurfaces into the domain of daylight, bringing a tangible sense of air rushing against your face, of big skies, and endless landscapes.

The idea of pop accessibility that trickled into 2023’s Crystal Vision is refracted here through the prism of sweeping ambient, deep electronica, and trance uplift. Evaporator is Fake’s idea of “airy daytime music”, with each track a different barometer reading across the album’s varying atmospheres, which range from vibrant sunbursts, bracing rainscapes, and fine mists of clement melodics. “It’s not overtly confrontational electronic club music,” states Fake. “It’s quite pleasant, it’s accessible. As I was progressing through making the tracklist, I called it a daytime album. It doesn’t feel like an afterparty album.” For the past decade Fake has been gingerly introducing collaborations with heroes and friends alike into his lone, idiosyncratic working process.

Border Community alumni Dextro AKA Ewan Mackenzie transmutes his ferocious drumming for Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs into the blurred choral thump of ‘Baltasound’. ‘Orbiting Meadows’, meanwhile, is his second collaboration with Clark, an eerily idyllic duet where microtonal 18EDO piano clangs slowly twirl around wailing pads. Evaporator marks the junction point of old technology and ever fresh creativity for Nathan. The trusty “dinosaur” age software, particularly Cubase VST5, that has powered two decades of music is rarely updated. “I used to sort of feel a bit ashamed of using such old software, and then I kind of had an epiphany – that’s just how I work”, comments Fake. “That’s just how I play. I’m very fond of these old tools, and I get the most joy out of them, but now I’ve incorporated new technology too.” When an artist accumulates so much synergy with their instrument, music making becomes instinctual. By Fake’s account, much of Evaporator just fell into place. The album title arrived randomly in his head (“it felt completely perfect. Airy.”), ideas looped and developed until things locked into place and just felt right. ‘The Ice House’ is a fleeting glimpse of the sonic world he taps into in this creative state, its glassy FM synths built around a counterpoint between rough-hewn crystalline arpeggios and sparse yet gravitas-bearing bass. “That riff I just wrote out on the keyboard, I just played it forever and ever and ever.

The original track ended up being really short. Here you go, and it’s gone!” These unplanned channellings of sound call forth records from Fake’s past while he looks ahead, perhaps getting at the very essence of his musicianship. The opener ‘Aiwa’ (“the breeziest,” he muses) reminds of the introspection that characterised Providence, excited by the fire and grit of Steam Days’ textural experiments, its chunky slams and clatters surging into a flood of harmonic buzzing as they reach out for old wisdom. ‘Hypercube’ stampedes in a similar chronological confluence, infusing an incessant synth line reminiscent of the golden age of rave with the crackling, ecstatic energy of modern festival anthems. Like the vaporisation of liquid to particles, everything that Evaporator presents has a mutant desire to be amorphous. Sounds rarely settle; the irradiated garage beat of ‘Bialystok’ is pitched downwards to driving, rebounding effect, while ‘You’ll Find a Way’ warps static into shivering energy, cinematic synth strings building anticipation into a gradual gush of chords. This translates into a more expansive stereo field than Fake has explored before.


‘Slow Yamaha’ saves the wildest, most kinetic transformations for last with a cornucopia of crispy melodies and fried drums; a sibilance of cymbals on the left, a susurrus of shakers on the right, and kaleidoscopic lasers pulsing and fizzing all around. Evaporation culminating in pure excited atoms.

Tears Before Bedtime is the sparkling new album by the Would-be-goods, Jessica Griffin’s band of pop adventurers. Since The Camera Loves Me, their cult classic 1988 debut for the legendary él Records, they have blazed a musical trail through indie guitar pop, with a garage band edge and forays into other territories - glam rock, tango, French chanson… The result is unique and timeless.
The songs on Tears Before Bedtime balance delicacy and power. Perfect pop melodies are delivered in Jessica’s gorgeous and idiosyncratic voice. Her lyrics are intelligent and wry, wistful and witty. Every song tells a story, taking us on a journey through space and time, from belle époque Paris to a 1960s London biker café, from a riverbank in ancient Greece to a 1970s teenage bedroom.
Listening to a Would-be-goods album is like wandering through a gallery of portraits. Innocence gives way to experience. Danger lurks amid the lights of the funfair in the 1950s carousel whirl of The Gallopers. The sinister Dr Love promises heaven but sends you down to hell, to the sound of a last dance in a smoky soul basement. A nymph meets a god in disguise in a garage-band take on a Greek myth (Tears for Leda). The Rose Tattoo is the tale of a doomed love in a sultry Southern state. Don't Come Crying To Me flames an ex-lover to the sound of Bollywood horns and shivery guitar. In Madame X a portrait painter vents his fury on a spoilt socialite beauty. The album closes with a sweetly jazzy lullaby (The Moon Doesn't Mind).
The Would-be-goods began playing as a full band in the 2000s and have been previewing some of these songs at recent shows in England, Scotland, France, and Spain. The album was recorded in London with Jessica on guitar and vocals, Peter Momtchiloff (Heavenly, Talulah Gosh) on guitar, Debbie Greensmith (Thee Headcoatees and many others) on drums, and Andy Warren (The Monochrome Set, Adam and the Ants) on bass. Guest musicians have contributed organ, piano, vibraphone, cello, trumpet, and flute to make this the richest-sounding Would-be-goods record yet.

WARNING celebrates 20 years of their groundbreaking album Watching from a Distance with a deluxe gatefold 2xLP/CD. Led by guitarist and vocalist Patrick Walker, every moment of WARNING's Watching from a Distance feels monumental; the album is widely considered to be one of the most emotionally-driven and profoundly Doom Metal records. From the onset, the album's eponymous opener crawls with a sombre melody that carries the emotional heft of WARNING's musings on love and longing. The band's classic track "Footprints" showcases Walker's ability to match his colossal riffs with a visceral, gut-wrenching vulnerability that was previously unheard of. Walker ruminates about his weakest moments; his vocal deliveries ranging from dejection to despair. The end result is truly "heavy" in every sense of the word - and a timeless take on the genre with thundering drums, lead-pipe backing bass, and swirling guitars. Fast-forward to the present day, and WARNING's introspective sensibilities resonate as hard as they ever have. Watching from a Distance showcases a band and moment in time that honed in on what "Doom" could really be. "I leave behind me the ruins Of the fortress I swore to defend I leave behind me foundations, I'll leave you a man I'll need you to mend And through all the battles around me I never believed I would fight, Yet here I stand a broken soldier, Shivering, naked, in your winter light" Short: WARNING celebrates 20 years of their groundbreaking album Watching from a Distance with a deluxe gatefold 2xLP/CD. FFO: Yob, My Dying Bride, Katatonia, Candlemass, Pallbearer, Pagan Altar, Khemmis

Jessica93, prodigal bastard of our glorious french squat scene, relocated on Born Bad : this is no picnic. Geoffroy Laporte, alone against all odds, alternates bass and guitar to build harsh loops with a drum machine spitting pre-Gulf War patterns. That’s where it gets tricky : every musical posse claims him. Grunge, sure, but Jessica doesn’t indulge in necrophilia. His circuit is punk, he doesn’t dress the part though. Cold wave, the atmosphere fits somehow, but the gear does not. The self-confident rock horde saw him playing with hair in his eyes… but he never joined the Party. Metal had something to say but sadly, nobody listened. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and let Jessica93 cook his great misery broth on her own, called « 666 tours de périph’ » (666 laps on the beltway). Witnessing Jessica93 live makes you dread that he'll get up the next morning, drive 200 miles and one nap later kick it again, when it takes us a good week to recover from the bad half of that same evening. Like so many other unknown soldiers during our very own world war of music, he patrols small venues relentlessly.



At the heart of this cultural pentacle painted by french weirdos Bryan's Magic Tears, and Carine Krinator, Jessica93 has built a sound validated by years of chosen vagrancy, birthing bands with joyously stupid monikers, in the humid jungle of small labels. Jessica93's debut album had a track celebrating Omar Little, HBO’s gay bandit from Baltimore. This story begins on the beltway, where Florence Rey, accidental copkiller turned to political icon of the 90’s. Geoffroy offers his brilliant analysis : " C’est la police qui nous tire d’ssus / C’est mon trou d’balle qui leur chie d’ssus « (Police shoots us down / my dripping asshole gets the job done).



A previous album was haunted by bedbugs, this one is essentially about love, a delicious scourge just as hard to eradicate. Two black diamonds peek out of the LP : ’’La colline du crack’’, heartbreak song about the ultimate temptation of violent delights, located on crackhead central in Paris. The brilliant chorus, ‘Take my hand and come with me to Crack Hill’ will put an end to the rumours, almost everything was really false. And Bébé Requin, alternative obituary that’ll make you shiver, where our nice couple states ‘’on kiffe la drogue dure et les ptits chiens’ (‘we love hard drugs and little dogs’). And that is the reason we face the wall of sound jostled by unnecessary shoulder thrusts: those nice fat chunks of charcoal poetry, hidden under light sarcasm.



The rest of the record demonstrates the know-how acquired in loop-by-loop construction of ruins that are pleasant to squat in together. There’s your classic doom delicatessen, with bits of heavy metal inside, crafted with the manic care typical of hard wankers. Arthur Satàn, who produced and mixed the album at home in Bordeaux, helped him get his head out of the reverb safe house. And Jessica93 took the opportunity to switch to the dark side of the language : french at last. Worth the wait ! Sing along : « nique sa mère / nique sa grosse mère » (translate that yourself).

For our fourth release, we welcome Basel-based producer Ben Kaczor. ‘To Baby Bones’ showcases the tracks produced as part of Ben’s first live set presented at Above Below Festival in 2024.

Written as a homage to a loved one, the title track of the EP is a gentle soundscape traveling through memories and subtle body shivers, far away yet never out of heart’s reach. ‘Bridge’, as if hung high above, suffuses the air with a thick emotional haze, lifting slowly as a walk along a fragile structure ends. Wistfully transforming present into past, ‘This Blue Light’ melds with the orange glow of the sun and dissolves into a white cloud. Driving and fizzy ‘Punchbag’ brings all the dreamers down to earth. Immersing them straight into the buzzing front left, it buoyantly concludes an ode to the melody of life and the joy of a loving heart — To Baby Bones.

Anthems (ultimate Singles Collected) is an album by Armin Van Buuren, released in 2023. Anthems (ultimate Singles Collected) includes a.o. the following tracks: “This Is What It Feels Like (feat. Trevor Guthrie)”, “Not Giving Up On Love (vs Sophie Ellis-Bextor)”, “We Are Here To Make Some Noise”, “Communication” and more. The album is a Coloured Vinyl, High Quality, Insert trance 2-LP.

LTD. CLEAR BLUE VINYL

New York painter and musician exploratory industrialist Tor Lundvall initially envisioned his 14th album, Beautiful Illusions, as an entirely instrumental affair, "inspired by memories of sitting in a church or cathedral watching the shifting sunlight through stained glass." Although he ultimately chose to wreath the majority of the tracks with hushed, poetic vocals, his original muse still resonates. These are certainly songs of shadowplay and vaulted skies, the quiet grandeur of dusk deepening on the horizon. Lundvall characterizes the lyrical subject matter, too, in ways both specific and surreal, exploring "the doubts, the anxieties and even the bleak fantasies the mind spirals into during moments of isolation, separation and distance." Tricks of the eye, mind, and ear, magnified by silence and the looming long winter. Shivering pulses and muted bass lines tread the twilight while icicle synths and wiry guitar map the melody until the voice enters, narrating oblique moods of essence and absence, tenderness and truth. Glimpses of dark humor flicker in the wordplay but the greater sonic landscape is one of falling leaves and failing light, small gestures rendered as revelation, cloaked in reverb and spatial fog. Lundvall's mastery of nuance and negative space continues to heighten, whispered brushstrokes of the invisible and the unsaid, what lies beneath and what lies beyond: "Behind the shields and false fronts is usually a sadness. The heartbreaking reflections of what might have been."

Delving into the Great American Songbook of Howe Gelb, Sandworms is a new collection that rephrases and rephases the legacy of Giant Sand acrossgenerations. This release offers bold reinterpretations from Water From Your Eyes, Deradoorian, Jesca Hoop & John Parish, Lily Konigsberg, Holiday Ghosts, Ella Raphael, Monde UFO, The Golden Dregs, and Gently Tender. The ever-present Giant Sand and their one-man cerebral traveller, Howe Gelb, are anchored by a reputation for idiosyncratic storytelling. A "natural storyteller," Gelb's multifarious musical delivery adds an enduring sense of wonder as he extols the virtues of happenstance. This collection celebrates the esoteric and singular journey Giant Sand have taken, through alt-country, jazz, lo-fi experiments, and beyond, while their legacy is reimagined here by a new generation of artists paying tribute to their lasting influence. Brooklyn duo Water From Your Eyes, known for their stoner humour, fatalistic undercurrents, and art-pop flair, bring a delicate balance of punk riffing and dream-pop escapism to Warm Storm, first heard on Giant Sand's Ramp (1991). Whitney K takes on Happenstance (from 1994's Glum), unravelling its existential puzzles with a whispering baritone that recalls the hushed intensity of Leonard Cohen. Drifting further into orbit, Angel Deradoorian reinterprets Center Of The Universe, the title track from the band's 1992 album, transforming its desert-fried rock into a spaced-out Sun Ra-paced drama. Elsewhere, Yer Ropes, a jaw-dropping highlight from Glum, is taken on by The Golden Dregs, blurring sentimentality and relationship mismanagement into something truly strange and moving. A special collection for both long-time fans and the newly curious, Sandworms: The Songs of Howe Gelb and Giant Sand is released via Fire Records and includes liner notes from Dave Henderson (Mojo).

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

Hot summer rain hits the cracked pavement in uneven rhythms. A neon sign flickers above a café that never seems to close, its warm white light reflected in the wet ground like a fever dream. The air smells of summer and the world hums with an easy tone, as if the city itself is holding its breath. A light flooded film noir-ish scene, that needs a soundtrack like "POOL JAMS", the new album of INIT, the Berlin based duo, that already caused quite a stir with their albums for Hivern Discs and Optimo Music. This time, they bring their latest creations out on R.i.O. - a label, with whom they are deeply associated. Their fourth longplayer is a playful one. One that brings trip hopping feelings. That has r'n'b grace, without catering regular trademarks of the genre. Dub, trance, drone, is all there too. Yet, nothing is present in pure definition. Rather suggested, interwoven, or newly twisted in a songwriting style, that haunts and seduces. On top the voice of Nadia D'Alò dances, steps and hums tempting to the grooves she created with her partner in crime Benedikt Frey. Together they fashioned a record, that, as INIT puts it, is "some kind of old photo from an old dry empty pool that got faded by sunlight ". A dreamy, sunny piece of song art, made for endless smoky LA freeway drives, and other adventures that seek for infinite riddance. You can dream it. You can trance it. You can't escape it, as soon as it rotates in your dream device for sound and vision.

»Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« is an introduction to the folk-pop world of Eddie Marcon. It follows in the footsteps of other collections of Japanese artists on Morr Music, such as yumbo, Andersens, and the »Minna Miteru« compilations. »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves« draws together songs from Eddie Marcon’s twenty-two-year history, including fragile, yet rich in melody material, collected from a prodigious run of limited edition, self-released CD-Rs.

Eddie Marcon is the project of Eddie Corman and Jules Marcon, who met through their involvement in Japan’s underground music scene. Eddie was a member of noise-rock duo Coa, while both Eddie and Marcon were part of psych-rock collective LSD-March. Forming in 2001, Eddie Marcon’s sound is markedly different from these groups, though they do, at times, share a sense of psychedelic dislocation, through the gentle, limpid pace of their songs. But with Eddie Marcon, melody and gentleness is at the music’s core.

They’ve long marked out their own, unique territory within a worldwide community of psych-folk and folk-pop artists; sharing their music through a subterranean network of colleagues and friends, they count groups like The Pastels and The Notwist as their fans, and Eddie has collaborated with the likes of Shintaro Sakamoto, and Aki Tsuyuko (in Tondekebana, and with Marcon and Ippei Matsui in the quartet Wasurerogusa). Eddie Marcon have also recently worked with drummer Ikuro Takahashi, who’s played with groups such as Fushitsusha, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te.

Across the songs on »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, Eddie Marcon’s songs are performed by Eddie on guitar, organ and vocals, and Marcon on bass; they’re variously joined by Takahashi, Yojiro Tatekawa (drums), Tomoko Kageyama (vibraphone), Yasuhisa Mizutani (flute), Madoka Asakura (vocals), and Ztom Motoyama (pedal steel). The arrangements are pared back to best serve the core of each song, and the playing is gorgeous – fluent but not showy; capable of great intricacy, but aware that simplicity is key to direct communication.

Songs like »Mayonaka No Ongaku« stretch their limbs languidly, the music shivering with beauty as guitar and cymbal drift across Eddie’s poised vocal delivery. »Tora To Lion« began as an improvisation, but it’s become a firm favourite of the group’s fans: as Eddie says, »it has become a very important song for us, to the extent that it can be said to be our representative song.«

Perhaps the most moving thing about »Carpet Of Fallen Leaves«, though, is the way it captures the subtle yet significant moments of everydayness that ask for our attention. »Shoujo«, a song for a beloved cat who passed away, possesses rare emotional resonance. »At the end of the song,« Eddie remembers, »I wanted to have her throat rumbling endlessly.« When the song was cut, a television voice appeared behind the purring, saying ›thank you‹. »For us, it felt like words from Poco-chan, and tears came to our eyes.«

Introducing Obi Trackz, a new record label which debuts with Pelle’s “Momentum EP” featuring a remix by Michelle.

Momentum EP features three tracks that reflect Pelle’s signature style, balancing house and techno with a raw, yet refined edge. The tracks are characterized by acid-tinged sequences, textured basslines, and intricate drum work, offering a dynamic range of moods. The A side exhibits the more psychedelic and mysterious direction, where twisted melodies meet bouncing bass patterns.

The B side includes a remix by Michelle, the producer from Uruguay known for her contributions to My Own Jupiter and Cabaret Records. Her interpretation takes Pelle’s ideas into a more raw and atmospheric territory, combining layered soundscapes with rhythmically complex structures. The B side shows the outspoken side of the record, with broken drums on the remix and sweeping synths and a dark vocal flip on “Aesoning”.

With Momentum EP, Pelle explores the intersection of past and present dance music, carving a distinctive sound that feels rooted yet contemporary. This release marks an exciting beginning for Obi Trackz, setting the tone for future releases.

Auf ihrem lang erwarteten Debütalbum entwirft die aus West-London stammende Künstlerin, Produzentin und Sängerin Hope Tala eine intime musikalische Sprache, die gleichermaßen romantisch und philosophisch anmutet und ihren wachsenden Ruf als eine der aufregendsten Stimmen im Bereich R&B/Neo-Soul untermauert. Auf dem Album sind die aktuellen Singles "I Can't Even Cry", "Bad Love God", "Thank Goodness", "Shiver" und "Jumping the Gun" zu hören, die ihr bereits viel Lob eingebracht haben. Von Hunger wurde sie als "ein faszinierendes und einzigartiges Talent, das Stile mit Selbstvertrauen und Leichtigkeit verschmilzt" beschrieben. Auch Barack Obama ist Fan und hat bereits zum dritten Mal einen ihrer Songs in seine jährliche Sommer-Playlist aufgenommen. Auf "Hope Handwritten" verwebt Hope nahtlos organische, live gespielte musikalische Texturen mit ihrem sanften Gesang und poetischer Lyrik über Herzschmerz, neu entdeckte Liebe, Abstammung, Introspektion, Menschlichkeit und Gemeinschaft, zu einem zusammenhängenden und eindringlichen Hörerlebnis.

“Eerie, wailing sounds over distorted feedback drones… Vibrato-heavy harmonies chirrup and throb in agonisingly slow motion.”
The Guardian, Album of the Month

“Cinematic...carefully orchestrated...delicately explores unfamiliar territory with uncanny finesse.”
The Wire

Acclaimed Icelandic theremin musician Hekla returns with Turnar, her third album of devastatingly heavy, spectral soundscape-songwriting, entering a sublime paranormal plane of haunting dread.

Now augmenting her virtuosic solo theremin work with cello, voice, and the sacred church organ of Icelandic master Kristján Hrannar, the evolution of Hekla’s unique magic summons new worlds with Turnar. The album was recorded partly in (and named after) a medieval castle tower in rural France, its ruinous black broken in spare beams of angelic stained-glass light. But, writes Hekla, “the sound of theremin kind of opens up a portal into a new realm that both looks into a dark old world and to the future.” The record is an alternately beautiful and crushing space voyage into a glacial underworld cascading with phosphorescence and cave drip, conjuring ancient choral ritual just as readily as redolent sci-fi gloam.

Opener “Inni” begins with swooning and shimmering lines of theremin that shiver with electrified energy before subfrequency bass elevates them into a glowing plasma, hovering above a crystallised surf. Key moment “Gráminn” wails with ghostly harmonics while distorted drones crash together in a stormy and blackened netherworld sea. It traces a neat progression from Hekla’s last album - the acclaimed Xiuxiuejar - while also welcoming an expanded timbral palette and flourishing compositional confidence. At the end of side A, “Var” delicately places sonic artefacts about a desolate negative space, creating a dense inverse gravity. As with the rest of the record, a claustrophobic gauze hangs over music that could otherwise be called subverted songwriting, aligning Hekla’s sonics with avant-garde, musique concréte and sound-art.

As the new year begins and resolutions spark against the
backdrop of winter's stillness, Circular Motions EP by Hamburg based DJ and producer OFF/GRID channels the fire of renewal through dubby, chord-driven techno. Known for his high-paced, grooving redefinition of dub techno, OFF/GRID brings euphoric intensity to the dancefloor, alongside moments of depth and
reflection that maintain unrelenting energy.

The EP features four thoughtful arranged peak-time tracks that blend old-school purism with vibrant and modern sonic aesthetics. Resonating with power and precision, these tracks represent the fire that fuels us even in the coldest moments, inspiring movement and momentum as 2025 unfolds.

Expanding beyond the Folk and Pop stylings of his fi rst album, Waits" second studio release The Heart of Saturday Night established his reputation as a versatile and distinctly American songwriter. It"s bluesy jazz arrangements featured bass, drums, sax and Waits on piano. The title track, a melancholy ode to Saturday night rituals, and the tenderly romantic hymn-like "San Diego Serenade" are enduring classics covered by an array of artists from Diana Krall and Nancy Griffi th to folk hero Eric Anderson. The album also features "Diamonds On My Windshield", the fi rst of what would become a signature for Waits", the spoken word-poetry song. Waits" delivers these lyrics as pure beat jazz in the stylings of Kerouac, Langston Hughes and Bob Kaufman.

In 2012, Army of God released a cult cut of cold wave: “Salvation”. This was the only EP by the partnership of Aroy Dee and Miss Jagroe, the only EP until now that is.

Army of God are back, after more than a decade the duo return with Endless Skies. Analogue warmth is sliced by surgical synth stabs and bittersweet strings, Jagroe’s unmistakable voice echoes into the distance with the beseeching mantra of “until the music dies”. Aroy Dee’s edit of the title piece fortifies drums for the floor, emotion is further stripped from the already deadpan lyrics as melodies bleed into distorted wonder. The black streak that characterises Army of God turns a shade darker for the flip. A throbbing bass is inked by off-kilter keys, clusters of claps piercing the thicket of static and chilling chorus of “Fear the Night”. Venturing ever deeper into the night, the darker version will set speaker cones shaking and shivering.

Juddering and trembling, basslines are bolstered with vocals invoking the very darkest regions of the dancefloor.

Julia Fehenberger, Oliver da Coll Wrage, Manuel da Coll - und schon wird FEH draus - und der TripHop der 1990er wird unangestrengt und elegant in die 2020er Jahre katapultiert. Die Drei, die schon seit Jahren befreundet sind, starten im Dezember 2021 ihr Projekt FEH. Sehr schnell ist klar, dass es da neben der Liebe zum TripHop auch das Bedürfnis gibt, den Wahnsinn der letzten zwei Jahre wenigstens musikalisch zu verarbeiten und ihm damit ein Stück weit auf die Schliche zu kommen. Erste Songskizzen entstehen und werden als Memo direkt ins Telefon gesungen und in die Runde geschickt. Man glaubt es kaum, aber genau so war es. Diese Arbeitsweise führt, auch für die Drei vollkommen überraschend, ziemlich schnell zu homogenen und einzigartigen Resultaten. Man taucht ein in die TripHopSzene der 90er, schemenhaft tauchen Portishead, Massive Attacke, Tricky oder auch Moloko auf. Was man aber eindeutig hört, ist diese Band FEH, die all diese Einflüsse zu ihrem eigenen Sound macht. Es könnte eine Bandreise und eine Reflektion der eigenen Jugend sein, eine Reminiszenz an diese Zeiten aber auch ein erwachsener Aufbruch in einen neuen Sound. Ganz ehrlich, ist total egal, klingt einfach supergut.

The making of a maiden album can be a capricious process. One moment of outright musical flow paired with another period of sustained creative struggle are feats experienced by seasoned producers the world over. So when Miraclis was forced to hole away in his makeshift studio - in the midst of a global pandemic - the stage was set for something magical. Now it will see the light of day for the very first time.

Having released two singles on Secret Teachings to critical acclaim already this year, Chilean talent Miraclis will accomplish a milestone achievement in July with the release of his debut album: Origin Of Truth.

Difficult experiences were fundamental to the creation of such work, as were Miraclis’ inherent musical interests. He explains: “Origin Of Truth had its birth during the pandemic. I created it as a way of communicating to myself the sensations and feelings that were spinning around my head at the time. I've always been inspired by Bristol trip hop, as well as classical rock, and these genres definitely contributed to the making of these melancholic tracks. In a way I wanted to fuse all the musical influences that were part of my childhood, up until this point now, so this album really means a lot to me. It was my way of communicating, when there was a lack of social contact and communication itself was hard to come by.”

It's this meditative quality that initially drew Damian Lazarus to the project. “It’s a record that has its roots in electronic music, but it’s a very alternative, very deep, melancholic album. I find it both soothing and stirring at the same time, and that’s a quite interesting juxtaposition in that it feels edgy but delicious at the same time,” says Lazarus. “The fact that this was written in this place surrounded by the most incredible desert landscapes makes this a very important piece of work to me. It doesn’t sit in any particular genre, which is why it feels right for a Secret Teachings release. It hints at so many genres that I as a DJ am quite into, and it feels like a first as it’s unique and unclassifiable. That mystical, esoteric, edgy feel makes this a perfect release for the label.”

Sonnet opens proceedings, with ghostly vocals residing next to raw instrumental elements throughout. Miraclis’ signature guitar riffs soon converge on saddened keys, paving the way for Scienter. It takes the form of an instrument-based, electronic-inspired cut, building slowly before reaching a crescendo midway through via an enrapturing acoustic solo.

Floating Child comes next, brimming with a darker intensity courtesy of broody synth pulses and rhythmic hi-hats, as Shiver arrives next. There’s a rock-leaning sensibility to the piece that gives way to earnest lyrical offerings, opening swiftly into the breakbeat-esque world of Perceptions. Hard-hitting drums act as the focal point, with electric chords adding depth and intrigue, whilst Bright continues in a similarly heartfelt vein.

Introspective pads leave us feeling pensive, ahead of Interstellar taking us on a celestial journey through warped bass tones. Acting as the LP’s penultimate number, it’s a four-and-a-half minute showcase of guitar-based musical goodness and one that perfectly sets the stage for Trapped, a closing saga of suitably emotive proportions.

Miraclis earned his stripes as a DJ under the name Max Clementi in his native Chile, as well as Spain after a stint at the Barcelona SAE Institute. Playing and writing music since his parents gave him his first guitar at age twelve, he found himself inspired by synth wave, electronic pop, trip hop, and psychedelic rock of the ‘80s and ‘90s, drenching himself in music by the likes of Massive Attack, Tricky, Depeche Mode, and Nine Inch Nails. However, it wasn’t until he had to move back to Pucón to take care of his father during the pandemic that he began working on what would become Origin Of Truth.

Serendipity seems to play a large part in Crosstown Rebels’ new label Secret Teachings. Just look at the story of how Damian met Miraclis in the first place. It involved a chance midnight encounter in Pucón, Chile at a woodland campfire after the DJ was locked out of his hotel room. This meeting of minds was the start of a remarkable friendship, where Miraclis invited Lazarus to stay at his house and break bread with his family. The two kept in touch, exchanging music and ideas as a result.

Two acclaimed releases into their short career - a debut EP and a split 7" with Citizen - Virginia's Turnover have quickly grabbed the attention of a scene of angst filled teens and twenty-somethings who grew up on Drive-Thru records classics and 90's grunge radio. Turnover spent a month last November with producer Will Yip (Title Fight, Circa Survive) and emerged with Magnolia. Their debut LP fulfills the promise set forth in their prior releases - contemplative, brooding pop-punk songs written with a somber, yet undeniable catchiness.

Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time is a portal into somatic chiaroscuro, aglow with the embers of imperfect memories and smudged with the plumes of internal echoes, which augment in vast, mercurial dimensions. For his third album on RVNG Intl., the British cellist, composer and producer offers a capsule of personal resonance and remembrance, assembled over the past six years. Throb, shiver, arrow of time traces the familiar metallic anatomy and viscous string modulations of his 2020 release skins n slime, while recentering his inner compulsions following a procession of lauded score writing projects, including the films Aftersun (Charlotte Wells, 2022), The Stranger (Thomas M Wright, 2022) and Occupied City (Steve McQueen, 2023). While working on Aftersun, Wells asked Coates how music could signal that someone is going on a trawl through their memory_a question that has stayed with him ever since and fosters a heartbeat running through the record. Throb, shiver, arrow of time is "all about inaccurate transmissions from our memories, overlaid with emotions from other sources," says Coates. The release is imbued with the ache and glow of recollections mulched together, where the guttural dissonance of misremembering is shrouded by strange orbs of sentiment. At the record's inner core is "Shopping centre curfew," a swift yet cavernous track that emerged five years ago when two real world events, both occurring in South London during the pandemic lockdowns, became fused in a dream: the demolition of Elephant and Castle shopping center, and the discussion of a curfew as a real possibility for all men following a violent crime. A strange simultaneity occurred with this piece of music and Coates built the album out from there, a sense of temporal entropy refracting shimmers of lurking convulsions into lucid sonic topologies. The ten compositions of Throb, shiver, arrow of time find weightless melodies soaring across after-image gradients, magnified and compressed. Misted tones within "Please be normal" and "90" soften drone-soaked shudders of inner acoustics messing up. Vocal invocations appear from long-term collaborators Malibu and chrysanthemum bear, as well as drifting synth radiance from Faten Kanaan. Throb, shiver, arrow of time furthers Coates' reach in collapsing the digital into the analogue and vice versa, allowing serendipity to reorganize the material and push out against the confines of flatness. This sculptural approach to sound is deeply influenced by the intricate installations of artist Sarah Sze, whose permutations of visual matter with its own after-image form kaleidoscopic epitaphs for ephemera and emotion. Coates' thinking about Sze's work and processes flowed together with his own playing and editing techniques, superimposing the textural relief of a live take back into a composition, and allowing the sound to succumb to a dream of itself. As Coates expands, "The cello is a kind of melancholic instrument with a light ethereal spirit. When the sound is flattened into digital processes, with shifted frequencies and time stretching I'm trying to give it even more of those qualities. Sometimes I'm distancing myself from it, so it becomes a piece of discarded debris that has soul in it, a down-sampling. Or other times, it's trying to maximize the present tense in the act of playing, and collapse that vivid color into a burnished, photocopied kind of sound. So the music acts like weather, weathering the listener, or as flames licking at the sides of objects." As the record unfurls, the compositions swell in duration, until the granular glimmers of its finale "Make it happen" persist in almost violent delight. "There's a feeling of not wanting to let this album go, trying to defy the extinguishing sound at the end of the music, trying to push the colors beyond the confines of the structure, to defeat the silence." In the scramble to resist denouement, Coates suspends the arrow of time in its eternal flight, just for a moment, to reveal the solace of the dust settling in the afterglow. Oliver Coates' Throb, shiver, arrow of time will be released on vinyl, Japanese import CD, and digital editions on October 18, 2024. On behalf of Oliver and RVNG Intl., a portion of the proceeds from this release will benefit The Traditional Music and Song Association of Scotland, an organization fostering opportunities for people of all ages to participate in the traditional music and culture of Scotland.

"Mountain Music is Nina Nesbitt as fans have never heard her before. Having risen to fame at a young age with her disarming, candid pop – the Scottish musician is now found in an entirely new realm. It is inspired in part by the two years she spent touring the States in support of her second studio album: the critically acclaimed Top 40, The Sun Will Come Up, The Seasons Will Change, which has now accrued over a billion streams. These songs are permeated with gorgeous nods to US folk and Americana. It’s made all the more extraordinary by the face that, not long ago, Nesbitt was considering quitting music altogether. Produced by Peter Miles and Nesbitt, mixed and mastered by Miles at his stunning studio MiddleFarm in south Devon, and released via her own label, Apple Tree Records. A playful nod to her 2012 debut EP, TheApple Tree, this marks the start of an exciting new era for Nina Nesbitt. While it might sound strange that Nesbitt was drawn to the music of Appalachia, heard echoing through the vast, verdant mountain ranges of the eastern United States, it makes more sense when you consider how traditional Scottish ballads and hymns are threads in that rich tapestry.

Empathy is one of Nesbitt’s greatest strengths. We hear it on “Painkiller”, a Joni Mitchell-indebted ballad on which her heart breaks for the men who believe they have to suppress their own feelings. One of the album’s standout qualities is, perhaps, the dynamic that Nesbitt creates from one song to the next. Where many folk artists might lean into quiet introspection, she craves the full spectrum of emotion – so ensconced around “Painkiller” you have the tender “On the Run’, with its distant shivers of percussion and crystalline piano, but also “Anger”. She’s in a nostalgic mood on the rousing “Coming Home”, a Springsteen-inspired, driving-with-the-top-down journey back to the places and people she loves. We all lose ourselves sometimes. The trick is learning how to find our way back, pushing those clouds away to see the blue skies beyond. For artist Nina Nesbitt, hard-hitting truths and revelations take precedent on her remarkable, career-best album, Mountain Music. Nesbitt knows exactly who she is, and now, she’s ready to tell the world."

Red in Clear Vinyl. First compiled as a double CD in 2002, Moon's Milk (in Four Phases) is a suite of four EPs that Coil released seasonally via their in-house Eskaton imprint across 1998. The line-up for these sessions were John Balance, Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson, Drew McDowall, and William Breeze. Recorded primarily at their home studio in Chiswick, London on the eve of a permanent relocation to the small seaside town of Weston-super-Mare, the collection has long loomed as a pivotal and pinnacle work in the group's discography, but has never been officially reissued, or repressed on vinyl. Time has only ripened its tapestry of regal strangeness.Arranged sequentially in tribute to the equinoxes and solstices, Moon's Milk captures Coil at a revelatory crossroads, leaning deeper into improvisation, spontaneity, and sound design. "Moon's Milk or Under an Unquiet Skull" initiates the proceedings on Spring Equinox, a two-part netherworld organ séance woven from vocal drones, cathedral keys, seasick strings, and opiated undertow. From there, Summer Solstice skews lighter but no less incantational, with Balance embracing his voice-as-instrument across lucid dream torch songs ("Bee Stings"), purgatorial spoken word ("Glowworms/Waveforms"), sultry chamber pieces ("Summer Substructures"), and falsetto ravings ("A Warning From The Sun (For Fritz)").Autumn Equinox exudes more of a pensive and twilit mood, from the Rose McDowall-sung folk ballad "Rosa Decidua" ("I hear your voice sing near to me / I've put away the poisoned chalice (for now) / And lie down amongst the flowerbeds") to hall-of-lords hallucination "The Auto-Asphyxiating Hierophant" to the liminal string-plucked classic "Amethyst Deceivers," featuring excellent alien guitar by Breeze layered with Balance's oft-quoted couplet: "Pay your respects to the vultures / For they are your future."The album's final chapter, Winter Solstice, is its most swooning, remote, and ceremonial. Opener "A White Rainbow" stirs strings, layered choral vocals, and shivering rhythm into an imploding burial hymn. "North" oscillates bleakly, a ghost in the machine murmuring opaque prophecy ("This black dog has no owner / This black dog has no odour"), while "Magnetic North" is its inverse, a guided meditation of gently flickering software and surreal chakra poetics ("Red rose filling the skull / Yellow cube in the lower pelvis / Silver moon crescent below the navel"). The suite fades to grey with a traditional English carol ("Christmas Is Now Drawing Near"), rendered like an executioner's song by Rose McDowall's doomed, beautiful voice.The Dais box set includes the entirety of the rare Moon's Milk Bonus Disc CD-R / 2019 Threshold Archives CD, which includes three collaborations with Thighpaulsandra. This material is as rich and intoxicating as the previous four phases, ranging from electro-acoustic singing bowl rituals ("Copal") to dissonant electronic recitations of visionary Angus MacLise poetry ("The Coppice Meat") to ominous classical melancholia ("Bankside"). Once again, Coil confirm the vastness of their confounding, infinite alchemy, explored and refined across decades of experimentation - both sonic and bodily. From post-industrial to post-everything, theirs is an art untethered, in the wilds of its own design.

Scottish experimental/electronic musician Drew McDowall's lifelong interest in an elegiac solo bagpipe style called pibroch (ceòl mòr in Gaelic) has been an inspiration for much of his previous work (including Coil's legendary Time Machines). This form, often traditionally used for laments and for tributes to the dead, fuses modal drones with flickering dissonance and plaintive melody evoking an ancient, solemn mood. His latest work, A Thread, Silvered and Trembling, both incorporates and transforms these elements via exploratory electronic processing, weaving an electro-acoustic tapestry of strings, shudders, voids, and voices, alternately disembodied and displaced. Co-produced with engineer Randall Dunn at Circular Ruin Studios in Brooklyn, the collection's four pieces capture McDowall at his most elevated and elusive, in thrall to "the ineffable - that which refuses to be spoken." McDowall's palette here is unusually eclectic, sourced from a dynamic orchestral ensemble arranged by Brent Arnold and comprised of cello, viola, violin, harp (Marilu Donovan of LEYA), and french horn. Ebbing between shrouded electronics and enigmatic, sometimes spectralist orchestration, the album moves with a seething, simmering energy, surging into elegant, uneasy crescendos. The first two pieces are inspired by a liberatory hijacking and inversion of a grim biblical story (and by a cryptic and strange UK simple syrup branding). Opener "Out of Strength Comes Sweetness" shivers with short echo and resonant pads, before shifting into the album's centerpiece: the 14-minute saga "And Lions Will Sing with Joy." A murmuring electrical storm of keening strings and disorienting drones gradually grows darker and denser, until suddenly there's a crack in the clouds, revealing mutated choral voices and sparkling harp. McDowall describes the track as "an incantation to help usher in a break, and a new beginning." The record's latter half evokes a deep untamed animism shot through with spiraling radiance. "In Wound and Water" sways with harp, plucked strings and eerie cello undertows while lush layers of disorientated electronics hang in the dusk. There is no resolution, only a faint gradient of fragile dissipation, leading into the album's harrowing and climactic closer, "A Dream of a Cartographic Membrane Dissolves." Processed voices (credited on the liner notes to "The Ghosts Who Refuse to Rest") contort, whisper, and gather as the rest of the ensemble sharpens, poising to strike. Then it does - grand, tragic stabs of strings and horns lashing the sky, storming heaven by force. The fallout is poetic and inevitable, raining embers into a dark sea. But the journey and catharsis of A Thread linger long after it goes silent. Like so much of McDowall's multifaceted catalog, this is music of immanence and alchemy, attuned equally to the sacred and the profane, to the tile and the mosaic.

A few miles away, in their studio fired up by analog funk, the Muscovites had been put back on the Nilovic track by multi-instrumentalist Shawn Lee. A few passionate discussions later, and the desire for a joint album was already lighting up the amps, making the bass strings shiver and the drum skins tighten.
Initiated by the coming and going of scores, the collaboration finally continued in studio for a real exchange, instantly bouncing off proposals, developing ideas in a live group dynamic that distance would have made impossible.