quête:elegiac

Ted Milton and Graham Lewis return as Elegiac with their second release – a four track EP inch titled “Meet My Stalker”. The pair of idiosyncratic sonic stylists, bullish outsiders with a Dadaist's ear for unexpected rhythms and ear-catching turns of phrase return showcasing a new track – the title of the EP - along with three bass heavy dubbed out no wave versions of tracks from their self titled debut LP.

Ted Milton is a prolific poet, with several volumes under his belt, as well as an avant-garde puppeteer. Yet he's probably best known as vocalist/saxophonist with psycho-funk afro punk fake no-wave pogo jazz trio Blurt. Milton's group has produced an impressive string of albums, not to mention his numerous solo recordings.

Meanwhile, Edvard Graham Lewis has a history of strong solo releases, both under his own name and as He Said. And of course, as bassist, lyricist and sometime vocalist with post punk innovators Wire, he's been responsible for numerous landmark releases, from 1977's Pink Flag, to 2003's Send, to 2020's Mind Hive.

Arranged, like the album, by electronic composer and sound artist Sam Britton whose sure touch pieces all the elements together. Kicking off with a stripped down driving shortened version of “He Folds” with its eerie honking sax and kraut like pulsating bass the perfect complement to Milton’s chorus echoing throughout. “Boat” is another album track beefed up with Milton’s chants backed by layered percussive blasts and squawking sax. “Meet My Stalker” makes its first appearance here with its infectious snarling looped bassline and Milton’s refrain “It’s a wind up”. Closing out with another album highlight an elongated version of “Vancouver Slim” all synth bleeps and ricocheting grumbling sax and hypnotic vocals. Punchy, idiosyncratic, packed with melody and groove, this second release is the fascinating sound of an evolving Elegiac.

Boy Harsher, Portishead, Thom Yorke, Radiohead, Beak>, ERAAS, SUUNS. Over the past seven years, Public Memory's distinctive use of analog synthesizers, electronic beats mixed with organic percussion, lo-fi sound design, and gritty ambience has created a singularly eerie and shadowy world. The first seconds of Public Memory's new record, Elegiac Beat, thrust us immediately into that world. We are in media res, with a feeling of sudden movement from a sensible point A to B. Given some time however, we realize that there is something askew–a bit of brightness here, some shadows pushed aside, some jazz and funk amongst the dub and Krautrock. This is an unfamiliar, ambiguous mood that pushes Public Memory towards new ground. We still drift past the clouded lights and hollowed out buildings of previous albums, but with an occasional bounce in our step now, a bit of golden haze around the edges. First single "Savage Grin" cements this clearly. The track has a jazzy, trip-hop flavor, albeit filtered through Public Memory's narcotic, hazy lens. We could be in a hotel lounge in the alps somewhere on holiday, or out of time in a majestic, sparkling ballroom. But we still have the feeling of being haunted, or perhaps even hunted in some way. This feeling intensifies and comes to a head towards the ever-darkening end of the track, leading directly into "Afterimage", in which someone almost imperceptibly sings "I hear them coming" in a twisted, auto-tuned flail. Second single "7 Floor" begins with flanged drums and damaged synthesizer stabs, evoking a kind of apparition floating towards us in the mist. As the track moves on there is, similarly to "Savage Grin", a contrast in feeling between a cold exterior roaming and an interior, warmer, human place. This time however, we move from the colder to the warmer as the synths from the track's beginning make way for a Rhodes-style organ and backing string synth, infusing an unexpected sense of peace. But like "Savage Grin", the track moves to its end through an in-between place beyond the haze. Faded and distant synthesizers meld with voices–human, or perhaps otherwise–that beckon us, or perhaps warn us. We can't be sure which. Third single "Far End Of The Courtyard" brings us closest to classic Public Memory territory with hip-hop beats, chopped and screwed samples, lo-fi ambience, and ghostly electric pianos complementing the vocals. There is darkness, perhaps more here than in the previous two singles, but with a crucial moment of uplifting lightness so subtle it may be missed upon first listen. As an inverse to both "Savage Grin" and "7 Floor" we end with brightness, the jazzier side of the record pushed to the forefront as the track fades away on that golden haze. In the end though, the haze may be just that: a vapor, a mist, a slight dusting of some other world on top of the degraded one Public Memory so effectively portrays. Elegiac Beat is between two places, and as it straddles the line between the two, we are uncertain if the light it brings shines directly from the sun, or if it is dimly reflected through that majestic ballroom world. For fans of 1990s Bristol trip hop, coldwave, and Thom Yorke's The Eraser

We are in-between again: FELT founder Fergus Jones surfaces on his own label for the first time with this dreamy, dubby pair of introspective tracks featuring the hazy, elegiac vocals of Thomas Bush, back on FELT after 2023's split cassette with Princess Diana of Wales. The results of a three-day studio bender in Copenhagen, Bush's entrancing vocals gesture towards the unchangeable past and unknowable future, creating a vital, pumping circulatory system of sound, further supported by the saxophone of Italian-Danish artist Francesca Buratelli and the (vinyl debut) of New York's Yumi with a notable interjection on "Untitled (Mix 1)”.



Written, produced and mixed by Fergus Jones & Thomas Bush

Saxophone on Untitled (Mix 1) by Francesca Burattelli

Additional vocals on Untitled (Mix 1) by Yumiko Mannarelli

Mastered by Amir Shoat

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

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

2026 repress!

Here is the debut, self-titled album from a.s.o., singer/songwriter Alia Seror-O'Neill, and producer Lewie Day. 'a.s.o.' is a thematic consolidation of the previous three singles and an impressive artistic progression. Day and Seror-O'Neill show they've mastered the format of the radio-friendly pop song and found how to subvert it completely. Across eleven songs, they have built a rich and compelling body of work.

We know where we are now, emotionally complex, trip-hop torch songs for club freaks. But the palette has broadened to encompass ethereal dream pop à la Cocteau Twins, slow- burning AOR-soul, and dubwise stylings. As a result, 'a.s.o.' is a satisfyingly coherent listen but never a musical monoculture. Variously there are nods toward Julee Cruise, Fleetwood Mac, and the uneasy listening of Portishead. It's an album that wears its influences lightly, is never weighed down by them, and always sure of its own identity.

It's anchored by Alia's unique voice. Her words speak of restraint and release, taking us from the elegiac to the euphoric. This elegantly crafted, perfect pop music sounds like it has had enough of your shit. And Day's music is the perfect foil; deep, slightly menacing, restrained, and powerful. The album has a cinematic texture, as with David Lynch; the seemingly familiar becomes uncanny and strange the closer we look. a.s.o. take our emotions for a joyride before leaving us floating in space.

'a.s.o.' is a journey; by its end, we all are changed

RADYO BOMBERO - ABOUT THE LABEL
Radyo Bombero is the record label founded by acclaimed filmmaker, author, DJ and record collector Fatih Akin. Born out of his personal passion for vinyl and film music, the label will initially focus on soundtracks from his films: previously unavailable works will be released on vinyl for the first time, while out-of-print titles will return as carefully produced reissues. Its inaugural release is the soundtrack to Akin's new film Geister, scheduled for release in November 2026. Further projects are already in development.

ABOUT THE RELEASE

MALAKOFF KOWALSKI - GEISTER
ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK
Composed by Malakoff Kowalski, the soundtrack to Fatih Akin's Geister is the inaugural release on Radyo Bombero.
Born in the United States, raised in Hamburg and now based in Berlin, Kowalski is a composer, pianist and multi-instrumentalist whose work moves between film music, contemporary classical composition, theatre and pop. He composed the music for eleven films by Klaus Lemke, as well as for productions including Schweigend steht der Wald and Stasikomödie. His solo work has been released by MPS and Sony Classical, and he has collaborated with artists including 2raumwohnung, Igor Levit, Chilly Gonzales and Nils Frahm. His sound combines elegiac melodies with a warm, cinematic atmosphere and a subtle sense of unrest beneath the surface.

For Geister, this distinctive musical language meets Fatih Akin's vision of a deliberately anachronistic and romantic score: a tribute to Ennio Morricone's great love themes that plays a defining role in the film's tragic love story and atmosphere.
LP 1 contains Kowalski's complete original film score.
LP by JUGGLERZ opens up a second musical world, bringing together four productions by the internationally successful Jugglerz on a four-track 12-inch disc at 45 RPM: the film's title song Ya Mami, performed by Aya Samra; Mood by Cloudee, Milaa and Jugglerz; Tip by Jugglerz, Limitlezz, Maureen and Demarco; and Beirut Nights Riddim. The four tracks bring Arabic tarab and contemporary Levantine pop together with hip-hop, urban beats and dancehall rhythms.

FATIH AKIN ON RADYO BOMBERO
"Radyo Bombero is on the air. Don't miss a tune!
"
Music is - alongside cinema and literature - a fundamental source of inspiration for me. Having grown up in the 1980s, the way I listen to music has hardly changed: I buy records, listen to them carefully and then copy them onto a portable device. It used to be a Walkman, then an iPod - today it is my smartphone with my playlists.
I do not use Spotify or any other streaming services. Why that is, I do not know. In most other areas, I try to keep up with technological developments. Not with music. I like unpacking a record, cleaning it before listening, holding the sleeve in my hands and reading who worked in the studio, who wrote the music and where the record was made. These things interest me. And they lower my cortisol levels.
Music plays a major role in my films. It is not that, as a director, I want to impose my favourite music on the audience. The music must always serve the story. In Head-On, for example, it tells us something about the characters and their biographies. Crossing the Bridge - The Sound of Istanbul is the musical portrait of a city. Its music tells us about the people who live there: where they come from, the cultures they brought with them and how those cultures have merged with local traditions. The Cut was conceived as a Western, and the music had to help reinforce that idea.
Geister tells a tragic love story. The music was meant to be gloriously anachronistic. And romantic. Just like the light and colours, it had to shape the atmosphere of the film. My films are often about cinema itself, and Geister is no exception. Its music is a tribute to Ennio Morricone's great love themes.
In Malakoff Kowalski, I found the perfect creative partner. He immediately understood my idea and realised it brilliantly. That made it all the more painful when I was told by the music industry that there could be no soundtrack release for Geister because soundtracks were too expensive to produce and would simply sit on the shelves.
It is not as though I am a spoiled child who absolutely has to have a lollipop. But this music is simply too good to withhold from the audience. The idea that there would be no soundtrack release felt like a great injustice.
Then several friends and collaborators advised me to release the record myself. No sooner said than done. But Radyo Bombero is not a one-off project. Geister is only the beginning.

Finally, I have the opportunity to gradually release all the soundtracks from my films that have remained unavailable. Soundtracks that were previously released but have since gone out of print will also return as reissues.
Hainbach's soundtrack to Amrum is already in development, as is a double album featuring the unforgettable German pop songs from The Golden Glove. And, finally, a vinyl soundtrack to Head-On.
Fatih Akin

In 2023, Kraków-based composer Martyna Basta and Los Angeles-based sound artist claire rousay were invited to Poland by Unsound for a short residency, where they spent a few days trading ideas and concepts, and brainstorming their first collaboration. Initially motivated to create lengthy, expansive pieces together, they also ended up experimenting with shorter vignettes, and ‘hotel room’ expresses these two extremes, featuring three long-form tracks and three brief, euphoric songs. “It wasn’t something we specifically planned,” explains Basta. “It just unfolded that way.” The most important stage of the process, however, was the period that followed the residency, when rousay and Basta began working on their sketches in isolation, trading drafts and sculpting the sounds independently before rousay handled the final mixdown. In the comfort of their own bedrooms, they were better able to reflect their individual creative routines, organically reaching a junction where their music felt truly unified. Even while they were in Poland, the duo joked that it might have been easier if they’d been holed up in separate rooms emailing each other.

Both artists have had an energetic few years: after steadily building a reputation for her diaristic and candid concrète experiments, rousay signed to Thrill Jockey in 2023, releasing the acclaimed ‘sentiment’, ‘a little death’ and the more eaze collaboration ‘no floor’; Basta, meanwhile, followed up 2023’s hallucinatory ‘Slowly Forgetting, Barely Remembering’ and her debut for Belgium’s Stroom imprint, ‘Diaries Beneath Fragile Glass’ with a studio album on !K7’s 7K sublabel: ‘Winged in Collapse’. The title of their collaboration reflects rousay and Basta’s hectic touring schedules in the wake of these releases, the constant feeling of displacement and the emotions that emerge when the environment is in flux. “I know we aren’t the only musicians traveling and creating work at the same time,” says rousay, “but being able to speak about that experience and all the things that come with it was comforting.” And the music itself, assembled from hypnagogic field recordings, spectral voices, electronics and filtered instrumental improvisations, sounds bewitchingly unmoored, not tied to a specific location but hovering around the uncanny space in-between.

Scratchy ASMR sounds introduce us to the opening track ‘zoom’, initially obscuring the duo’s elegiac harmonies. They are careful to let the various elements evolve at their own pace, with the fictile guitar drones melting into the foreground while Basta’s dissociated whispers and rousay’s illusory synths pick out the subtlest subliminal shades. It all builds to the piece’s dramatic third act, when layered chords ring out like organ blasts, enveloping the negative space. The shorter, more anxiety-provoking ‘denim’ is remarkably divergent, a dismantled folk memory pieced together from skeletal piano notes, vaporous choral echoes, haunting string plucks and pulsating feedback. Where the music aligns is in the mood itself, capturing a feeling that’s neither completely abstract nor fully referential. Not ambient exactly, ‘hotel room’ is a suite of soundscapes that gesture towards structure while repeatedly folding in on themselves.

On ‘Lost and Found’, wordless Autotuned ad-libs spiral around delicate guitar plucks and washing waves, coalescing into a faded Polaroid of opiated Americana, and on ‘Where Are You Now’, operatic squeals and corroded orchestral scrapes are juxtaposed with nauseous low-end tones. Evaporating until only industrial whirrs and music box chimes remain, the latter encapsulates the entire album’s chilling liminality, smudging saturated voices with casual electro-acoustic interjections before it erupts abruptly, transforming into a dense, pitch-skewed hymn. ‘hotel room’ plays like a surreal travelogue, teasing listeners with airy familiarities as it humidifies dry, awkward spaces. More a labyrinth of catacombs than a single, fixed chamber, it’s Escher-like – cryptic and seductive – and decked out with personal asides and intimate details that reward the most patient, curious listeners.

Xylitol, aka producer and DJ Catherine Backhouse, shifts up the refinement and musical breadth for her second album Blumenfantasie, the follow-up to her Planet Mu debut Anemones.
With Blumenfantasie, Xylitol wanted “to make space and for the music to float and propel at once”, finding routes through the pointillistic figures, cascading synths and the meditative stillness of kosmische musik and bolder breakbeat programming. She reaches this delicate balance through careful subtraction, hoping “to convey a sense of intimacy and sadness but without sentimentality” which she manages with a feel and sound that's raw and intuitive.

Blumenfantasie rolls through detailed jungle workouts that flutter and bleep, through beatless ambience, taking a rare dip below 160 bpm for the elegiac Mirjana, the album’s most explicit nod to Krautrock with a drum break chopped up from Amon Duul II’s anthemic ‘Archangel’s Thunderbird’, through to Halo, a bare bones grime rhythm that calls to mind the missing link between industrial pioneers Nurse With Wound and Wiley's Eskibeat.

Catherine cast her net to draw in experimental audiovisual duo Sculpture and Reading based post-rock band The Leaf Library as collaborators, pulling the former’s whirling eddies of musique concrète into a slice of sublime aquatic jungle, and the latter’s radiophonic folksong into a dark and disorientating breakbeat workout equally indebted to Source Direct as to Broadcast.
Blumenfantasie moves with a confident, self-effacing fluidity which has been informed by DJ Bunnyhausen’s more regular DJ gigs. She speculates ‘if this album feels more cohesive than its predecessor it's likely because I've been DJing a lot more, with Worthing Techno Militia, with central and eastern european electronica collective Slav to the Rhythm, as well as being part of Italo Disco crew Flex. Moving between these zones seemed to open up hidden pathways between the disparate musical trajectories they represent.'
While Anemones contrasted the rough and the delicate, its successor is an album built for the head, hips and heart, with painterly sounds and a sense of intimacy that encourages deep listening while keeping its eyes on the strobelight and its feet on the dancefloor.

Exploration, collaboration and curiosity define the rhythm at the beating heart of Mehmet Aslan’s exemplary compositions. The Swiss-born producer of Turkish heritage has already forged a singular path through production, DJing and full-band performances, navigating the more esoteric corners of Berlin’s club culture without sacrificing his musical heritage or innate creativity.

A conceptual new LP ‘Auguri’ follows on from 2021’s gnomic, ornate ‘The Sun Is Parallel’, which saw Aslan musically associate with the likes of Valentina Magaletti and Niño De Elche. ‘Auguri’ also has its foundations in collaboration, born out of a musical lab at Lyon’s annual
Nuits Sonores, the forward-thinking festival with whom Aslan has maintained a lengthy creative relationship.

The resulting audio-visual performance, ‘Bird Signals For Earthly Survival’ introduced Aslan, to the Greek filmmaker Stratis Vogiatzis. Drawing on the philosophy of Donna Haraway and envisioning new ways of being, of living on earth, Aslan and Vogiatzis crane their necks to the sky to witness flocks of birds performing spectacular movements in unison. Fluid and ancient, their organic waltz provides inspiration for Aslan’s extension of the project, spanning sonic shades of electro, ambient and modern folk psychedelia.

On the coastline of Vogiatzis’s home country of Greece, as in many places across the world, climate change threatens to effect the ancient migration pattern of millions of birds, just as their fellow beings on terra firma become increasingly entangled in a man-made disaster of their own creation. In unison, ‘Auguri’ is adorned by artwork from designer Xavi Bou. Known for his ‘ornithographies’, this striking visual captures avian life not only as a force, but a wry observer.

“We need to transform our connections with other living beings to protect the Earth and live together harmoniously”, reflects Aslan. “Personally, this project has made me more sensitive to this issue. I wanted to give back in return for the inspiration I've received."

Perhaps upending expectations of a more traditional ‘ambient’ album, Aslan commits some of his finest compositional work and understated songwriting to this urgent imperative, creating original music that nonetheless, has nature flowing through it. ‘Critters’ presents a spectral sound collage on which Aslan himself speaks from the texts composed at the residency, conjuring visions of “the birds flying… shape of the future”. Meanwhile, the undulating, psychedelic ‘Pigeon Blinks’ takes inspiration from more domestic scenes, charting the unexpected roosting and hatching of an egg on a kitchen window, while ‘Auguri’ gives the album it’s title in connecting to a higher plain, demonstrating Aslan’s ability to lure melody and catharsis from looping hypnosis.

Opener ‘Spectra’ provides a forceful, almost industrial breakbeat that establishes the exigency of the album as well as its sense of wonder, while ‘Euphoria’ reaches the potency of its promise slowly, with Aslan’s modular melodies meeting the flourishing percussion of guest player and multi-instrumentalist, POPP. Finally, ‘Aura’ delivers a cinematic conclusion, mixing an elegiac organ motif, haunting guitar chords and the prophetic sense of a scorched earth. Here, with patience and soaring production, Aslan once more makes the abstract and the unthinkable somehow tangible, mixing in sampled birdsong.

Accordingly, ‘Auguri’ is being released in accordance with EarthPercent, the music industry’s climate foundation, co-founded by Brian Eno. A portion of the album’s publishing will be credited as part of ‘The Earth As Your Co-Writer’ initiative, allowing artists to directly credit The Earth in their new compositions. Here, streaming and publishing from Aslan’s recorded sounds are automatically paid back to a number of vital initiatives worldwide.

Leaning into some of the most vital questions and anxieties of our time, ‘Auguri’ is not a project without a sense of hope. From studio to sea, Mehmet Aslan continues to look to the skies and beyond.

Sleep Now Forever is the second and final album released by Sorrow, the post-Strawberry Switchblade group fronted by singer Rose McDowall. Originally released in 1999 and long since deleted it is a cornucopia of pastoral, elegiac folk music, swirling atmospherics, hymnal compositions and above it all the alternating towering and fragile vocal performances of McDowall. Recorded in the late 90s with fellow band member and co-songwriter Robert Lee, Sleep Now Forever is the definitive statement by the now defunct group and Rose McDowall’s most complete long-form work to date.
Released through the group’s own Piski Disk Records, Sleep Now Forever was distributed by World Serpent which struggled through the early 2000s with financial woes, eventually folding due to bankruptcy in 2004. Due to the company’s troubles, Sleep Now Forever was never distributed widely and was a victim of the company’s failure. Released on CD only, original copies are now rare and only traded on second hand channels. Remastered by Mikey Young for a limited vinyl release, Sleep Now Forever will be released on April 20th on double vinyl format, with one side an exclusive etching by Glasgow artist Holly Allan.
Despite its rarity, Sleep Now Forever enjoys a firm cult following. The album’s textures are expansive, lush, deliciously detailed and celestial. Recorded in home study Velvet Hole by Rose McDowall and then-husband Robert Lee, the album enlists an array of players from the underground Neo-folk / industrial scene: Nigel McKernaghan (Uilleann pipes, Whistles), Susan Franknel (Bassoon), John Contreras (Cello) and Lawrence Frankel (Oboe, Cor Anglais). The eleven songs here revolve around McDowall’s instantly recognisable voice. Brought up singing in the Catholic Church, McDowall’s vocals are impeccable and angelic, particularly on tracks like Turn Off The Light where her experiences with religion are canted over soaring oboe and guitar backing. By far the most evolved and realised version of Sorrow’s vision, it feels somewhat criminal that music this beautiful could be lost to time until now.
McDowall’s lyrics throughout Sleep Now Forever deal frankly with mental health, depression, altered states, death and redemption. Wave upon wave of harmony drench each song, McDowal’s vocal multi-tracked and imperious. Opener Soldier benefits from Robert Lee’s use of the studio as instrument, summoning forth a lilting group performance of sparkling guitar and percussion that recalls the Velvet Underground. Mikey Love’s master treats the compositions to brand new frequency dynamics and space. Harmonium and string drones form the counter to McDowall’s vocal on Love Dies, a slow, lurching lament that feels transcendent. On Haunting, the arrangement is orchestral and aching, bleeding into Fear Becomes You, with chord and harmony structure that recalls the baroque sixties pop of West Coast Pop Experimental Art Band or the 60s psychedelic folk movement. A towering, beautiful statement, this elegy for times lost and moonlit-illumination is finally resurfacing from the darkness.

Coral Morphologic and Nick León’s Projections of a Coral City marks a series of collisions between distant
worlds: the organic and the artificial, the Eocene and the Anthropocene, sea and cement—and even, perhaps, ambient music and activism.

Coral Morphologic are the Miami duo of marine biologist Colin Foord and musician J.D. McKay; since 2007, they have used a variety of multimedia projects to generate environmental awareness of marine biodiversity—most notably Coral City Camera, an underwater webcam streaming live from an urban reef ecosystem in PortMiami.

Their citymate Nick León is a linchpin of South Florida’s contemporary leftfield electronic scene, with releases for Tra Tra Trax, Future Times, and NAAFI, and credits on records by Rosalía, GAIKA, and Iceboy Violet, among others.

This collaborative project dates back to 2022, when Coral Morphologic mounted a monumental projection-
mapping installation on Biscayne Boulevard. For five nights in late November and early December, macroscopic films of corals played out across the exterior of Knight Concert Hall. The installation was, on the one hand, a glimpse into a possible future, imagining how the city’s skyline might appear if unchecked global warming and rising seas led coral reefs to colonize the built environment. But it also represented a look back into the deep past, a reminder that Miami is literally built from marine limestone mined from the Everglades. Its concrete foundations began life, eons ago, as a marine ecosystem—the same ecosystem that may one day reclaim them. As above, so below.

As an album, Projections of a Coral City is a suite of interconnected movements spread across two sides of vinyl. The tones are watery, the mood elegiac, the colors a washed-out pastel. Forms that appear static on the surface gradually open up to reveal hidden depths teeming with microscopic movement. You might detect resonances with other aquatically minded works—Jürgen Müller’s Science of the Sea, Harold Budd’s liquid piano compositions, even the slow-moving melancholy of Dr. Roger Payne’s Songs of the Humpback Whale. But ultimately Projections of a Coral City creates the impression of a world unto itself—a hauntingly beautiful space at the meeting point between sorrow and hope.

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Balmat is a label with a cloudy outline. Jointly shepherded by Albert Salinas and Philip Sherburne, two friends living in Cardedeu, Catalonia, and on the Balearic island of Menorca, Balmat grew out of Lapsus Radio, a weekly show born almost ten years ago. Balmat’s mission is simple: to foster new ideas, expand upon personal obsessions, and put enveloping sounds out into the world.

“Balmat” means “empty” or “void” in Catalan. But quite apart from any negative connotations, we prefer to think of it in terms of possibility: a space waiting to be filled.

Following on from the recent Elegiac release - a meeting of two mavericks Blurt's Ted Milton and Wire's Graham Lewis we have teamed up with Blurt for a double sided 45 featuring two new tracks "Cry" & "I'll Be There Now".

Milton is a poet, with several volumes under his belt, as well as an avant-garde puppeteer. Yet he's probably best known as vocalist/saxophonist with psycho-funk afro punk fake no-wave pogo jazz trio Blurt. Milton's group has produced an impressive string of albums, not to mention his numerous solo recordings. Brimming with the pogo punk energy the band are known for, the lead side "Cry" is a mesh of raw drums and piercing sax slowing down on the flip side to a head nodding pace with Milton's echoing refrains backed by the raw bounce of the band.

King of Town (KoT), originally from Johannesburg but now in the UK, is back after a nearly a decade hiatus from his mutant disco-inflected remixes.

Prior to his long break, King of Town remixed the likes of Franz Ferdinand, Slow Club, Alice Russell, the Detachments and the Phenomenal Handclap Band.
His remix of Desmond and the Tutus' 'Kiss You on the Cheek', released on Tigersushi in 2009, has become a regular feature of Spotify playlists and has racked up a few million listens across various streaming platforms.

For this release KoT serves up four exclusive re-edits.

Lord Have Mercy is a retouch of Willie West's slow-burn R&B lament of his own elegiac defiance, where KoT underpins West's groove with a 303 acid bassline and synth flourishes.
Swimming in Your Eyes is a beefing up of Pasteur Lappe's 1979 Rhodes-heavy space disco groove.
Troubles of this World takes OV Wrights ridiculously soulful take on a gospel classic and transforms it into a retro-futurist track aimed firmly at the dancefloor.
And with Khomo Tsaka Deile Kae KoT nods towards his roots and inserts drive and snap into fellow South African Marumo's 1982 kwela-touched stomper.

As always the artwork has been completed by the very talented Pedro Carvalho de Almeida.

Vinyl Only.

Time stands stunningly still on The Final Painting, the dreamy, elegiac final album from legendary underground singer-songwriter/poet/painter Ed Askew. The Final Painting not only defies the curse of sequels and the ten-year gap between the two DeCicca/Askew productions, it"s also a wonderous variation on the intimacy of the self-portrait, an expression from the twilight of one of the most unique artists to emerge in last half of the 20th century. The Final Painting reinvites For the World contributors Sharon Van Etten, Eve Searls, and Canaan Faulkner and new guests Bill Callahan, William Tyler, Ryan Jewell, Dustin Laurenzi, and Fulvio Sigurta. In their last conversation, just days before Ed passed in January 2025, he and Jerry agreed to: a) use the painting left on the easel of Ed"s now-empty apartment and b) call the album The Final Painting.

African visions, Middle Eastern mirages, and cosmic pulsations: the map of Giuliano Sorgini’s sonic universe continues to expand, revealing new, uncharted territories.

Set for release on 10 July, the 7-inch Savana Selvaggia brings together two extraordinary, previously unreleased tracks, shedding light on one of the most visionary facets of Sorgini’s library music aesthetic. On Side A, “I misteri del mondo” (The Mysteries of the World) transports us to an imagined, ancestral Africa suspended between endless horizons, elegiac wilderness, and analogue electronics.

On Side B, “Arabian Safari” opens the door to a mystical, Arabic-tinged soundscape where African imagery blends with Middle Eastern influences and kosmische futurism. Driven by a potent mix of electronic drums, hypnotic sequencing, and fiercely inventive synths, it strikes a sonic kinship with the finest European Krautrock.

The dialogue between these two tracks perfectly highlights the composer's artisanal, experimental approach. Here, the Solina, Minimoog, modular circuits, pulsating synth lines, and suspended melodies intertwine to form a fascinating, enigmatic, and deeply personal sonic world—one built entirely by Sorgini in his Cat & Fox Studio in Rome, located a mere stone's throw from the RAI headquarters.

Two forgotten tracks. Two cinematic journeys whose original visuals have been lost to time. Two missing puzzle pieces in the ongoing recovery of the work of a composer who sounds more modern today than ever before. A magnificent sonic transmission from a bygone era that lands with the force of a contemporary revelation.

2026 Repress

Initially conceived as a short-run cassette for Altered States Tapes, YL Hooi's nameless collection of textural apparitions oscillate between icy DIY minimalism, FX-drenched atmospherics and nang chamber dub. A ghost-like transmission, Hooi's voice serves to anchor an array of sonic abstractions and impressionistic melodic motifs as a sense of purgatorial ambience dominates throughout. Co-produced with alleged fellow Kallista Kult member Tarquin Manek (LST, M. Quake), Untitled's ultimate sensation is its halfway state, as if caught between worlds.

The album's final form speaks of its origins, recorded intermittently over a two year period (2017-2019). The extended time passage seeps into the song structures, spiralling and mutating from the same centre - the elegiac pulse of opener 'Title' presages the hymnal lilt of 'Straight Thru', before birthing the inverted bossa nova of 'W/O Love'. The result is a constantly shifting tableaux of shared liminal spaces. These songs seemingly emerge in plumes of smoke, magician's tricks conjured from the ether. It's a vision that ossifies at Untitled's midpoint with a cover of Love Joys' 'Stranger', the lovers rock original morphed into the transportive intimacy of Hooi's own hazy inner space, a totem of the LP's amorphous and ultimately sensuous qualities.

The sound from both down under and way out there in subspace, Untitled is an inspired masterstroke of experimental mystics. This 2021 Efficient Space edition is remastered and robed in new artwork that honours the Melbourne-based earth dragon's Chinese and Russian heritage.

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Fog On Mirror Glass introduces a new aesthetic amongst Donald Beaman albums. After four albums of varied full-band arrangements, this album emerged as an idea to present solo performances in conversation with full-band work. The bulk of the songs were recorded in the same place they were written: Beaman’s living room. Long time bandmate and producer Kirt Lind set up a makeshift studio at Beaman’s house to record the guitar parts in the same room where they were written, using the same guitars on which they were first played.

Unfurling with a measured pace, the resulting album combines elegiac lyrics with elemental arrangements played with an almost jazz-like reverential expressiveness, calling to mind the works of Cass McCombs, Will Oldham, and Jake Xerxes Fussell. Album opener “Glass Bottom Boat” sets the tone for the album with just Beaman and his guitar – written during the final months of a decade-long stay in New York City, the song was finished upon his arrival back in California. Meanwhile the title track, long a staple in live sets, lands near the middle of the album to recalibrate the mood, featuring the ghostly guitar work of longtime collaborator Ken Lovgren. “Old Universe” lifts things up a bit, propelled by the brushwork of drummer Michael Nalin and the jaunty bass playing of Kirt Lind. Finally, the album ends much the way it began, with Beaman and his guitar on album closer “Bamboo”.

“The dictionary definition of less is more.” - ---- Mojo
“His ability to carve universal empathy from mundane domesticity is remarkable.” - ---- RNR Magazine
“...a collection of evocative scenes and vivid emotions sung to sparse musical arrangements in Beaman’s distinctive sonorous tones” - Americana UK
“...pure and simmering, like a tattoo dedicated to a long lost friend, slightly fading from years in the sun, a memory that will always bring a tear in those quiet reflective moments.” - Psychedelic Baby Magazine

Carlos Giffoni reconnects with Thurston Moore for two sides of loose-limbed axe noise, oscillator worship and hard-phased, Spacemen 3-style feedback.

Giffoni’s been on a roll recently. Since the No Fun founder returned to the scene with »Vain¡, a genius set of synth mutations that appeared in iDEAL back in 2018, he’s been slowly ramping up the activity, dropping the celestial »Dream Walker« on Stephen O’Malley’s Ideologic Organ in 2024 and following it with »Pendulum«, a bumper compendium of collaborations, just a few weeks back. For those who remember Giffoni’s first trip round the block, he was always able to hold his own chopping it up in person, not just by mail.

Just scrub through his early catalog and you’ll see collabs with Nels Cline and Chris Corsano, Merzbow, Jim O’Rourke and Lasse Marhaug, and of course, Thurston Moore. The two rekindle their thing on »IGUANA’« picking up where 2001’s fabled »4 Guitars Live« performance left off. Here, Giffoni straddles a tabletop synth and FX while Moore attacks his signature Jazzmaster with a drumstick and a screwdriver – vibes fully intact.

Moore is on blistering form, sounding as if he’s taken a step back to refresh his approach since the early ‘00s when he could be spotted moonlighting on any number of basement-adjacent noise sides. Sawing at his strings and turning the guitar into a shrieking resonator, he leaves only faint vapours of the classic Sonic Youth sound as opiating accents on his animalistic wails and rumbles. On the opening half, his whammy – assisted shreds are balanced out by Giffoni’s off-world whirrs and airlocked vibrations, building a dense wall of noise towards an unexpectedly elegiac conclusion. At some point, Giffoni’s rasping churr transforms into a simmering shudder and Moore’s into hymnal drones – squint a bit and you could almost call it pretty.

Of course, they ramp things up on the flip, dissolving the melancholia with smokey white noise and twangy, post-Derek Bailey chimes that Giffoni accompanies with aggy oscillations. Like every great taped noise set, the recording quality is crucial - »IGUANA« was captured from the pit by Guillermo Hernandez Avendano, the dad of Lia Miranda who provides the cover photo. It’s that kinda show.

Doubting all the time. Fearing all the time. Our Darkness descends upon Dark Entries with a reissue of Anne Clark’s epochal proto-house masterpiece from 1984. As a young poet, Clark found herself drawn to London’s emerging punk scene. She became acquainted with Psychic TV affiliate David Harrow, with whom she would collaborate on 1983’s Changing Places and 1984’s Joined Up Writing. “Our Darkness,” off the latter album, was released as a single on Ink Records that same year, and became an underground club hit. It’s a singular piece of music: Clark’s lyrics, delivered with equal parts muscular confidence and unease, speak of urban alienation and heartbreak, while Harrow’s production pummels the listener with hydraulic beats and gloom-laced arpeggios. The song’s spirit would prove influential on both the early Chicago house and Detroit techno scenes, where mechanistic funk and existential despair could catalyse dancefloor mayhem. This reissue offers three versions of “Our Darkness”: the original 12” remix, the Razormaid mix, and a previously unreleased dub version uncovered by David Harrow. Also included is the extended mix of “Sleeper in Metropolis,” another dancefloor hit of Clark’s, as well as the elegiac “Poem for a Nuclear Romance.” The record includes an insert with liner notes and lyrics. “Our Darkness” channels timeless longing and contemporary dismay, a classic overdue for a little light shed upon it.

Soft Echoes presents the first physical edition of ‘In a Few Places Along the River’ by Abul Mogard as a limited run of 500 vinyl copies. Originally released digitally in 2022, the album now appears in its intended form, marking the label’s second release.

Three long pieces, composed between 2019 and 2022, emerged from Mogard’s meticulous experimentation with analogue and digital instruments. Slowly evolving harmonic fields of layered drones and spectral textures drift across the record. They are enhanced by reverb from Scotland’s Inchindown oil tanks, which hold the longest reverberation of any man-made structure, giving the music a haunting resonance and a sense of suspended space.

‘Against a White Cloud’ and ‘In True Contemplation’ open the album with their nocturnal tones that gradually intensify into dense, immersive waves of sound. Side B is devoted to the 21-minute elegiacal piece ‘Along the River’, which flows between weight and silence, unfolding with reflective depth and moments of subtle transcendence. As one listener observed, “His music doesn't break the wilful suspension of disbelief: you stay in its trance.”

“Recording for this album began in 2019, when I was still living in London,” Mogard explains. “The first version of ‘Along the River’ was created at my studio near Brick Lane. It started with experimenting around a chord progression inspired by a classical piece I had once been recommended, though, strangely enough, I no longer recall what it was. Early in 2022, I revealed the identity behind Abul Mogard and wanted to mark this new period, so I decided to release it quickly, by myself, as digital-only.”

After returning to Rome, Mogard created the other two pieces, working with new digital instruments alongside his modular synthesiser, and integrated recordings from the London sessions. The music reveals a patient attention to texture and space, defining his usual restraint. Mogard adds, “I was trying to explore very subtle changes in the spectral characteristics of the music using extremely slow, intertwined tones.”

Described by critics as one of Mogard’s most melancholic and absorbing releases, the album maintains an austere beauty and contemplative weight, leaving a lingering impression that lasts far beyond the final note.

The music has extended beyond the album itself, with tracks appearing in films and contemporary artworks. Most notably, Swedish artist Peder Bjurman’s ‘Slow Walker’ audiovisual installation and French filmmaker Fleuryfontaine’s politically charged animated film ‘Soixante-sept millisecondes’.

Mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri and cut to vinyl by Lupo, the record emphasises the clarity and depth of Mogard’s frequencies, with each layer precisely balanced. The cover artwork and design are by Marja de Sanctis, who has collaborated with Abul since his first cassette release in 2012.

The scottish singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist James Yorkston and the english guitarist with a fluid fingerpicking touch, David A. Jaycock, already played together in the first formation of the experimental folk ensemble Big Eyes Family Players. Their encounter with Swedish saxophonist Lina Langendorf gives rise to a little gem of pure acoustic candour, perfectly balanced between chamber avant-garde and neo-folk. As on an endless autumn evening in front of a lake in Finland or Estonia, the trio's nordic soul creates atmospheres that recall hidden nostalgia. In a process of rarefied sound matter, elegiac paintings spring up, moments that flow slowly and silently in a tension that is always suspended and unresolved. Soft, crepuscular passages, at times sharp and cold guitar, but also the velvety breath of the nickelharpa, combine with a saxophone that still blows dramas of distant Norwegian fjords, but can also become more Mediterranean and arabesque. The music becomes like a warm warmth around the fire, reflecting a hidden twilight zone of the soul, in a quiet, gentle whisper between poetic abstraction and arpeggiated themes of more recognisable narrative melody, typical of a certain Northern folklore.
Co-Release with We are busy bodies.

Acclaimed Scottish composer Craig Armstrong releases his new work Pacific via his own label CMA Records. Written for piano, cello, and electronics, the three-movement piece was originally commissioned in December 2024 by Christian Kellersman, a pioneering figure in contemporary classical and jazz music, for his new live event series Berlin Confidential, co-curated with Alexander Szlovák. The series aims to promote innovative new music projects, with a particular focus on emerging musicians and composers.

Armstrong was among the first artists invited to perform as part of Berlin Confidential, premiering Pacific at Berlin’s historic Meistersaal concert hall in March 2025. The concert featured Armstrong on piano alongside cellist Lena Angelina von Almen and producer and musician Guy Sternberg, combining acoustic instruments with live electro-acoustic treatments to create a rich and atmospheric sound world.

Recorded in May 2025 at Lowswing Studios in Kreuzberg, Pacific continues Armstrong’s ongoing exploration of blending acoustic and electronic sound in a natural, seamless way. Over several days in the studio, Armstrong, von Almen and Sternberg developed the work’s intricate textures and dynamic interplay, resulting in a recording that captures both the intimacy and expansiveness of the original live performance.

Speaking about the inspiration behind the piece, Armstrong says: “I wrote this work during a time of great instability in the world, I wrote “Pacific” as an Elegy dedicated to the many suffering in today’s conflicts and in the hope that peace will prevail.”

Across its three movements, Pacific 1 is elegiac in nature, with the main themes stated and developed throughout the piece, punctuated by recurring piano motifs. The movement is reflective and atmospheric, with subtle electronic interventions. The second movement is arrhythmic in nature, following shifting time signatures that reflect a sense of uncertainty - the music is searching and static, ending without resolution but leaving hope for one to come. Pacific 3 moves towards peace and resolution, bringing the work to a close with quiet strength and emotional release.

When speaking about the creative process and his collaborators, Armstrong said: “Lena’s beautiful playing , tone and expression worked so beautifully on Pacific, Lena was also a great collaborator and was always willing to experiment and try new musical approaches. Lena is such a natural musician and she brought so much emotion and beauty to the piece. I wish her all the best in her future musical journey.”

He continues: Guy is a unique combination of being a brilliant engineer and mixer and a prolific very talented musician/composer. I was very fortunate to spend time with Guy in his studio in Berlin. His sensitivity to the project and his electronic programming made a wonderful contribution to the composition. His collaboration and friendship made the days working in Berlin such a great experience I would like to thank Emma Ford for her dedication, enthusiasm and guidance on Pacific”

For both von Almen and Sternberg, the collaboration was equally meaningful. Von Almen reflects on the experience of recording the piece, saying: “As a musician, it is always a great privilege to work on a piece together with the composer, and of course I felt even luckier to go through the process of creating something new with an artist like Craig Armstrong. Figuratively speaking, it felt like knitting a silk scarf: using the finest materials and taking the utmost care during the recording, we have realised another beautiful and touching work by Craig, which will bring us and certainly many others great joy. I feel very honoured to have been part of this and to have experienced this warm encounter.”

Sternberg adds: “Diving into Armstrong’s music while working on this record felt like examining a diamond under a microscope, discovering endless beauty within simplicity. Perfection and complexity emerging from simplicity, where every note, tone, noise, and gesture has meaning. I’m deeply grateful to have been part of this process, and for the freedom Craig gave me to express myself through his music, to let our sonic visions merge into one. It’s been both a lesson in music-making and in setting the ego aside, if only for a moment.”

Reflecting Armstrong’s belief in the role of music as a force for empathy and reflection, proceeds from Pacific will be donated to charities working towards peace: Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross.

The limited-edition vinyl release has been pressed on Eco Vinyl at SeaBass Vinyl, a sustainable plant near Edinburgh. The record features striking cover art by Dirk Rudolph, who has designed several of Armstrong’s previous releases.

»Lilac« is the first Donna Regina album since 2019’s »Transient.« The world has changed considerably since then, which has also left its mark on the Berlin indie pop duo. The songs released as part of the 2021 single »Welt in einer Stadt« (»World in a City«) for Karaoke Kalk had already dealt with the pandemic-induced standstill and its effects on urban space, and also the rest of the album shows that Günther and Regina Janssen have been influenced by recent social and political developments. »In ›Lilac,‹ I imagine good ol’ Earth as a big ol’ bear shaking us off because it can’t stand us anymore,« says Regina Janssen. It has become a serious album, Günther affirms, but he is also adamant that it is not a sad one. Musically, Donna Regina have remained true to the spirit of their early work, recently re-released by Karaoke Kalk: their arrangements are as minimalist as they are emotionally rich.

»The music is always there,« says Regina Janssen about the creation of the tracks on »Lilac.« As always, the two record their music »track by track and without computers,« as Günther notes. Samples play a smaller role this time than on earlier albums, with analogue instruments such as a monophonic synthesiser and, above all, guitars coming to the fore again. This frames lyrics that are being delivered by Regina in German, English, or in both languages. They delve even further into the intricacies of urban life. »Cities are underrated! What a civilisational achievement it is to have so many people living under one sky,« says Regina. »They constantly put you in touch with the unfamiliar. Sometimes they’ll be overwhelming, and they are always alive.« This ambivalence shapes the tone of the album that ponders on the state of the world today.

Starting with the ominous sounds of »Whole World In My Town,« through the dreamscapes of »Autumn In Paris,« to the elegiac conclusion of »No More Roses,« Regina and Günther Janssen move through different timbres and styles with a few select means. Their preference for minimalist electronics becomes evident at times, while elsewhere the pieces open up to balladic arrangements in which the guitar plays a leading role. This turns »Lilac« into a city by itself, the songs forming its soundscape: every neighbourhood looks different, every street has its own character.

The story begins with Kevin Morby absentmindedly flipping through a box of old family photos in the basement of his childhood home in Kansas City. Just hours before, at a family dinner, his father had collapsed in front of him and had to be rushed to the hospital. That night Morby still felt the shock and fear lodged in his bones. So he gazed at the images until one of the pictures jumped out at him: his father as a young man, proud and strong and filled with confidence, posing on a lawn with his shirt off. This was in January of 2020. As the months went on and the world dramatically changed around him, Morby felt an eerie similarity between his feelings of that night and the atmosphere of those spring days. Fear, anxiety, hope and resilience all churning together. The themes began twisting in his mind. History, trauma and the grand fight against time. Having the courage to dream, even while knowing the tragedy that often awaits those who dare to dream. While his father regained his strength, Morby meditated on these ideas. And then, he headed to Memphis. He moved into the Peabody Hotel and spent his days paying tribute and genuflecting to the dreamers he admired. In the evening, he would return to his room and document his ideas on a makeshift recording set-up, with just his guitar and a microphone. The songs, elegiac in nature, befitting all he had seen, poured out of him.Produced by Sam Cohen (who also worked on Morby’s Singing Saw and Oh My God), This Is A Photograph features musical contributions from longtime staples of Morby’s live band, as well as old friends and new collaborators alike. If Oh My God saw Morby getting celestial and in constant motion and Sundowner was a study in localized intent, This Is A Photograph finds Morby making an Americana paean, a visceral life and death, blood on the canvas outpouring. As Morby reminds us early on, time is undefeated. So what do we do while we’re still here? This is a photograph of that sense of yearning

DarkSonicTales is a project by Rolf Gisler and his eponymous album his first for Hallow Ground. Having been granted an artist residency by the label in a 300 year-old farm house in the Swiss countryside in autumn 2019, the Lucerne-based musician and sound artist explored the peculiar sonic environment of the building and its surroundings through the use of field recordings, modular synthesizers, guitar, bass, kalimbas, a singing saw as well as self-built instruments. "DarkSonicTales" starts with kalimba sounds and field recordings, setting the stage for "Sonic Darkness"- a self-referential spoken word piece whose sinister jazz-like sound calls to mind Bohren & der Club of Gore. The following "Spring Feelings" contrasts insect sounds with harsh noise elements, elegiac drones and a throbbing rhythm. It's not quite what you'd expect from a piece with such a title, but the stories that Gisler tells throughout the record are more concerned with uncovering the hidden histories underneath what meets the eyes than (re-)creating idylls. The nine minute-long "I Still Believe" further underlines that by bringing together glistening synthesizer notes with industrial-like drones and field recordings that give it a palpable effect before Gisler unexpectedly changes course and quite literally bursts into song. Towards the end of "DarkSonicTales," the music becomes notably more minimalistic. Gisler experiments with the dynamics of modular drones on "Kind of Restless," juxtaposing birdsong and ominous electronic noises on "Best Buddies" before a mid-tempo beat emerges, making the record close on a decidedly hopeful note. These dark sonic tales, they have a happy ending. "DarkSonicTales" is an organic album in more than one sense of the word. Reacting to and reflecting the world around him as well as expressing his inner one, Gisler gives the sounds at the core of his multifaceted compositions space and lets them breathe. Working along stark contrasts and with surprising twists, he also shines a light on the atmospheric and emotional ambiguity of the world he encountered during his solitary artist residency-unearthing the hidden layers underneath what is perceivable.

Anushka Chkheidze + Robert Lippok’s »Uncontrollable Thoughts« on Morr Music is the duo’s debut joint release. The Netherlands-based Georgian composer and the German sound artist from Berlin first met in 2019 in the context of a workshop programme that took place in Tbilisi, and later worked with Eto Gelashvili, Hayk Karoyi, and Lillevan on the massive »Glacier Music II« music and book project, released in 2021. This led them to engage in a less conceptually driven form of musicking and real-time composition that corresponds with their respective environments. They draw on traditions such as minimal music or late 1990s and early 2000s electronica to integrate subtle beats with elegiac organ drones, playful melodies with lush textures. The first document of an ever-shifting intergenerational dialogue, »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is a product of mutual listening outside time.

Though Chkheidze and Lippok had access to professional studios, they chose to rent a simple rehearsal space, equipped with only the bare essentials—bass and guitar amps as well as a small PA—to maintain immediacy in their working process. The music they made together corresponded to and drew on the respective possibilities and shortcomings of this studio, much like their collaboration in general is characterised by the care with which they approach each other's talents and ideas. While both had loosely defined roles—Chkheidze was responsible for the free-flowing beat programming and the evocative distortion came courtesy of Lippok, for example—they individually contributed in different ways to their joint process, which is as free of hierarchies as it is limitless. Hence, the duo’s focus on spontaneity and out-of-the-moment emergence makes them organically move beyond tried and tested conventions, resulting in music that seems to suspend time altogether.

When the first chimes on »Bird Song« announce a piece that sets rattling kickdrums against a backdrop of layered drones and rhizomatically entangled melodic elements, it becomes clear why »Uncontrollable Thoughts« carries this title: The album follows the constant detours of the subconscious of its makers, letting them explore moments of ecstasy such as on »Rainbow,« melancholy with »Field,« and the interplay of suspense and release through the ten-minute-long title track. But the different pieces also tie into one aother in various ways. The dirge-like organ drones on which »Rainbow Road« ends reappear in the beginning of »Uncontrollable Thoughts,« much like Chkheidze’s gentle yet emphatic piano chords on »Field« seem to provide the starting point from which the artist develops the striking motifs of the final piece »Opening«, whose title itself suggests that the record as a whole can and should be enjoyed as a loop. All this creates a unique, idiosyncratic temporal logic.

While there is much that sets Chkheidze and Lippok apart as solo artists, the major shared leitmotif in their respective bodies of work is the sonic engagement with space. »Uncontrollable Thoughts« is hence best understood as an extension of this practice; as an album that maps the geographies of their minds in motion, tracing musical movements as they melt into each other.

Still staged in the gritty atmosphere and philosophical weight of post-metal, sludge, and ambient noise, `idsungwüssä' sees Abraham march even further into dissonant and defiant territory. "The three albums are clearly linked together thematically" comments the band, "although, rather than an additional chapter, idsungwüssä is more like a parallel narrative to 'Débris de mondes perdus'. The latter was a jump in time after 'Look, Here Comes the Dark!, whereas 'idsungwüssä' is a jump in space, a journey away from earth. It should be the final piece of this little jolly ride." This album isn't just heavy, it is absolutely drenched in delicious filth, and yet by embracing even more the melodic interludes and melancholic passages, they create a devastating contrast to the wall of power coming from stacked guitars, catastrophic drums and raging, sharp vocals - delivered in Swiss-German dialect. From the patient grandeur of coming extinction, to the chaos and fevered urgency of the aftermath, in `idsungwüssä' Abraham move forward from prophetic lamentation to an elegiac visceral response. The emotional closure of this expression is felt, something final that will leave you speechless and with only one real option; listen to it again.

Still staged in the gritty atmosphere and philosophical weight of post-metal, sludge, and ambient noise, `idsungwüssä' sees Abraham march even further into dissonant and defiant territory. "The three albums are clearly linked together thematically" comments the band, "although, rather than an additional chapter, idsungwüssä is more like a parallel narrative to 'Débris de mondes perdus'. The latter was a jump in time after 'Look, Here Comes the Dark!, whereas 'idsungwüssä' is a jump in space, a journey away from earth. It should be the final piece of this little jolly ride." This album isn't just heavy, it is absolutely drenched in delicious filth, and yet by embracing even more the melodic interludes and melancholic passages, they create a devastating contrast to the wall of power coming from stacked guitars, catastrophic drums and raging, sharp vocals - delivered in Swiss-German dialect. From the patient grandeur of coming extinction, to the chaos and fevered urgency of the aftermath, in `idsungwüssä' Abraham move forward from prophetic lamentation to an elegiac visceral response. The emotional closure of this expression is felt, something final that will leave you speechless and with only one real option; listen to it again.

Limited 180g black vinyl (500 copies worldwide)
“Marcel Wave combine sharp-eyed Northern lyricism with DIY guitar-janglers rooted in a retro C86 aesthetic. Epic finale ‘Linoleum Floor’...is a gloriously bleak rumination on the horrors of enforced late-night hedonism worthy of prime Pulp” UNCUT
Marcel Wave write eulogies for tragic actresses, ancient riverbeds and concrete obscenity. Their inaugural sonic instalment ‘Something Looming’ is part trades club symphony, part itchy serenade, and part wistful lament. As their heady concoction of ‘Meades meets Pat-E-Smith meets Kirklees Borough Council’ gets prepped to be formally baptised on a dank stage near you, Upset the Rhythm and Feel It Records have dutifully stepped in to deliver its songbook to the masses on both sides of the pond.
Formed when Lindsay Corstorphine and Christopher Murphy of Sauna Youth and brethren Oliver and Patrick Fisher of Cold Pumas were summoned by northern ink-slinger Maike Hale-Jones, Marcel Wave’s debut offering is a walk through a smoke-filled pub with yellowing wallpaper and all eyes on you. It’s a chronicle of the death of the docklands, the decline of industry, of the high street, of civic pride, of civilisations, of hopes and dreams. As Hale-Jones delivers the bad news in her low, West Yorkshire brogue, Corstorphine adds the bells and whistles via the frantic pulsations of a wheezing Hohner organ in tandem with Fisher O’s rasping guitar. MW are completed by the throbbing basslines of Murphy and Fisher P’s fervent rhythms.
The title itself sets the tone for the listener. There’s a sense of foreboding in Hale-Jones’ lyrics which sit at the quintet’s core—elegiac, sardonic and piquant in equal measure. A mixture of narrative epilogues and inward paeans, her words weave tales across a broad thematic church. Crooked tales of urban renewal and the voices left behind are probed in ‘Barrow Boys’ and ‘Stop/Continue’ and are at the fore in ‘Where There’s Muck There’s Brass’ with its refrain lamenting ‘Concrete and slate shine in the rain, cities destroyed, nothing to gain’. In these lyrics, tower blocks loom over terraced houses with the same shadows that the Hollywood sign casts over Peg Entwistle before she takes her tragic leap. ‘Peg’ and ‘Elsie’ are both meditations on two different actresses with different fates crushed by the cut-throat trappings of showbusiness: ‘The mad hopes break, fragile as glass. She traded it all, for the cutting room floor.’ A snaking, existential dread also runs through the album, stated more obliquely in the otherwise poppier interludes of the title track ‘Something Looming’ and album opener ‘Bent Out of Shape’, and present too on the comparatively ramshackle ‘Discount Centre’, where Hale-Jones reports ‘On a mini bus on the outskirts of Enfield, I’m losing all of my spark’. On the album closing weeper ‘Linoleum Floor’, it is laid barer still—a keyboard-led reflection on the deflating nights out of our early-twenties.
Marcel Wave invites the listener to dance to society’s decline, and then to later weep into its lukewarm pint.

With a deeply introspective and poetic essence built upon Monolink's layered vocals, spirited rhythms and poignant storytelling, "Powerful Play" invites listeners to embrace the fleeting nature of existence and immerse themselves in the beauty of the moment; his distinctive blend of electronic beats and raw acoustic elements serving as a perfect backdrop to the song's profound lyrical depth.

On the B-Side andhim rework the track with their signature blend of luscious grooves, refined electronica and subtle euphoria, breathing fresh life into the original. The remix plays with dynamics and space, pulling Monolink's haunting vocal lines through intricate rhythms, warm analog textures and a hypnotic build that carries listeners through an immersive sonic narrative. The duo's groove meets Monolink's elegiac depth, resulting in a track that's both club-ready and emotionally resonant.

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

Aunes is a rare solo album from peripatetic Australian cellist-composer-performer Judith Hamann, presenting six pieces recorded across several years and countries. Developing the collage techniques and expanded sound palettes heard on their previous releases, Aunes makes use of synthesizers, organ, voice and location recordings alongside the dazzlingly pure, enveloping tones of Hamann's cello. The record takes its name from an old French unit of measurement for fabric, varying around the country and from material to material. Unlike the platinum metre bar deposited in the National Archives after the Revolution as an immovable standard, an aune of silk differed from an aune of linen: the measure could not be separated from the material. In much the same way, in these six pieces_which Hamann thinks of as `songs'_formal aspects such as tuning, pacing, melodic shape and timbre are not abstractions applied universally to musical material but are inextricable from the instruments and sounds used, even from the places and communities in which the music was made. Audible location sound embeds the music in its place of making, as in the delicate duet for church organ and wordless singing `schloss, night', where shuffles and cluttering in the reverberant church space form a phantom accompaniment, gradually displaced by a uneasy shimmer of wavering tones from half-opened organ stops. `Casa Di Riposo, Gesu' Redentore' documents a walk up a hill to an outdoor mass in Chiusure, layering voices near and far with footsteps, insects and other incidental sounds. Like in the work of Moniek Darge or Luc Ferrari, location recordings are folded on themselves in space and time, their documentary function dislocated to dreamlike effect. On other pieces, it is the emphatic presence of the performing body that grounds the music, whether in the intimate fragility of Hamann's softly sung and hummed vocal tones or the clothing that rustles across a microphone on the opening `by the line'. The idea of a music inextricable from its material conditions is perhaps most strikingly communicated on the album's briefest piece `bruststärke (lung song)', composed from layered whistling recorded while Hamann suffered through an asthma flare up, the results halfway between field recordings of an imaginary aviary and the audiopoems of Henri Chopin. More than any of Hamann's previous solo works, a strong melodic sensibility runs through Aunes, even when, like on `seventeen fabrics of measure', the music hangs together by the merest thread. At other points, Hamann's love of pop music is more obvious: the rich synth harmonies of `by the line' could almost be a melting fragment of a backing track from Hounds of Love. The expansive closing piece `neither from nor toward' exemplifies the highly personal musical language that Hamann has developed in recent years through constant solo performance (and a rigorous discipline of instrumental practice), pairing two overdubbed voices with the boundless depth and harmonic richness of just-intoned cello notes, calling up Ockegham or Linda Caitlin Smith in its elegiac slow motion arcs. Hamann's most personal work yet, Aunes arrives in a striking sleeve reproducing a section of a painting made from sewn pieces of dyed wool by Wilder Alison, a friend and fellow resident at Akademie Schloss Solitude, one of the temporary homes where much of this music was recorded.

Fust--the lyrical powerhouse Southern rock band from Durham, North Carolina--announce their new album Big Ugly, out March 7th on Dear Life Records, the record label that launched the careers of MJ Lenderman and Florry and that has become a haven for contemporary songwriters. Big Ugly arrives after the release of 2024's Songs of the Rail--"one of the best alt-country compilations_in a long, long time" (Paste) -- and 2023's standout Genevieve, which unassumingly introduced new listeners to Fust's unmistakable blend of "small-town poetry" (Mojo) with a familiar yet probing "country-tinged folk-rock" (KEXP) that made it "one of the most fun rock records of the year" (Pitchfork). Genevieve was their studio debut, recorded with producer Alex Farrar (Manning Fireworks, Rat Saw God, Tomorrow's Fire) in Asheville, North Carolina. The reception was far better than the band expected, stirring them to immediately start working on Big Ugly, their second collaboration with Farrar. Recorded over ten days in June of 2024, Big Ugly is the explosive sound of Fust uncovering a freedom within their sincere form of loose and fried guitar rock, realizing more than ever before an intimacy within bigness. The members -- Aaron Dowdy, Avery Sullivan, Frank Meadows, John Wallace, Justin Morris, Libby Rodenbough, Oliver Child-Lanning--weave their voices alongside guests like Merce Lemon, Dave Hartley (The War on Drugs), and John James Tourville (The Deslondes) to form a music that sounds like a conversation between old friends. And that's exactly what it is. At its heart, Big Ugly is a story cycle, following tough-skinned characters who seem to inhabit a shared and fictional small town--Big Ugly--that in reality gets its name from a lowly populated and unincorporated area in southern West Virginia around where Dowdy's family has deep roots. The album cover_a mural from the Big Ugly Community Center just off the Big Ugly Creek--was painted by locals for a 2004 play performed by the children that interpreted their elders' stories. In a way, Fust's Big Ugly does something similar as it takes the same area as its backdrop and reimagines a life depicted in the mural between the bars, gas stations, general stores, and double-wides. Throughout the album, we join the characters in finding history and meaning in the banal theater of their own private jerkwater.The songs on Big Ugly are hearteningly varied, moving from beer-fisted radio country to elegiac drones to deconstructed ballads. Songs like "Spangled" take up the theme of past traumas and present desensitizations colliding, of the small and cosmic coinciding in the life of a heedless protagonist. "Bleached" finds the soul-searching narrator recalling the feeling of inner vacancy in their childhood: thoughtless, speechless, herded around like cattle in backseats. And "Mountain Language" laments the poverties of Southern life at the same time that it promotes a higher poverty, a country utopia that's just out of grasp, where we could live if we could only "make it up the mountain again." The mystical hermeticism and the dime-store everyday are two sides of every insignificant thing in the town of Big Ugly.

Archeo Recordings serve a special delight with two extended and alternate reworks from the all star cast behind the recent AR025 Aqua Cheta remix 12”. Dipping into the cool waters of Infradisco’s original LP once again, Hear & Now and Manu Archeo look to the horizon and channel the horizontal with a couple of ambient suites, new age dreamscapes and day trippers, each awash with positive vibrations and healing frequencies.
Perugia's peerless Hear & Now open the 12", cultivating pulsing chords, hazy reverb and elegiac fretwork for a White Isle romance steeped in the sunset lineage of the Café Del Mar. Heart-swelling piano and restrained bass throbs conspire to see the rest of the world melt away, with occasional percussion the only reminder that time is still passing. Though radically different from their dance-floor driven revision on the 12", this is no less impactful, swapping the club sonics for the sensation of sheer beauty.
Not content with making a spectacular production debut via his dubbed out diversion of "Dulcis" last time out, Manu Archeo makes further waves with a meditative masterpiece - spaced out and sprawling through a sultry thirteen minutes. An echo drenched meditation script gradually sinks into the immersive ripple of balmy horn, delicate hand percussion and watery pads, making room for a succession of stunning lead-lines and glistening sequences. If you thought the new age of New Age was over, it's time to open your mind.

First vinyl edition of Carme López’ debut album of entrancing bagpipe arrangements. Unravelling forms of early music and funereal, queered droneworks full of strange tonalities, phased harmonics and curious subversions.

Carme López is a researcher and teacher of traditional Galician oral music, and ‘Quintela’ features her debut recordings for the Galician bagpipe, split into four longform movements totalling 40 minutes of supremely engrossing drone flourishes. Misunderstood by many, the bagpipe is here brought into the experimental realm as a form of decontextualisation, fashioning the instrument’s naturally peculiar timbres into soft, wavering tones.

Despite its unusual resonance, in López's hands the bagpipe almost becomes a pipe organ, producing long, swaying, sustained tones that highlight the instrument's complex timbral qualities. López plays with its breathy overtones, placing microphones on the bag itself to pick up residual sounds while she sculpts its squeals into cavernous siren calls, and then extracting half-rhythms from its reeds on the elegiac closer 'iv: CACHELOS. a César De Farbán'.

The instrument’s inherent wheezing and anomalous timbre lend the recordings a wavering foundation that feels designed to unsettle, but somehow becomes nothing short of entrancing through almost imperceptible harmonic shifts and odd tunings. It’s meditative music that requires active participation, focussed listening - so as to make sense of all the infinitesimal shifts and faults - in a way that feels unique to this most maligned, misunderstood, almost mystical instrument.

Emmanuel Mario returns to Karaoke Kalk with his third album under his Astrobal moniker for the Berlin-based imprint. »L’uomo e la natura« (»Man and Nature«) sees the prolific drummer and producer, who has worked with artists such as Laetitia Sadier and label mate Pink Shabab, take a different musical route than before. The French electronic music composer pays homage to the spirit of library music while also making concessions to different strains of pop and even classical music. With only two of the ten songs putting words to the music, »L’uomo e la natura« is a masterful exercise in the evocation of atmospheres: expressing much while saying very little outright—show, don’t tell.

The album was born out of a desire to push the envelope. »I wanted to make music that was both pop and ambitious in its chord progressions as well as surprising in its construction,« explains the Paris-based artist. Taking inspiration from library music artists such as Alessandro Alessandroni or Bruno Nicolai as well as the more cosmic strains of electronic instrumental music, he strove »to create a soundtrack that would immediately bring to mind outer space.« The first of the three singles released ahead of the full album, »L’abeille pourpre,« captures this spirit with funky rhythms and an overjoyed interplay of different melodies, all tied together by wordless yet terminally catchy vocals.

The second single, »Miami 2064,« traverses through many different moods in its six-minute run-time: Starting off as neo-noir synth-wave piece, it then proceeds to pay its dues to the masters of the cosmic music tradition such as Tangerine Dream or, of course, Jean-Michel Jarre before slowly descending back to Earth with guitars and dreamy synthetic vocals, playfully punctuated by a plethora of wistful melodies. It is the perfect encapsulation of the open-ended approach Mario follows throughout the entire album, taking full creative licence in regards to songwriting and arrangements. »I wanted to surprise myself,« he shrugs. He succeeded.

»L’uomo e la natura« rewards multiple listens not only emotionally, but also intellectually. »I also wanted to talk about politics and ecology, because it’s impossible not to,« Mario notes. Some of the track titles express this more openly than others and the two title tracks sung by Mario and Nina Savary use French and Italian lyrics, respectively. However, as a whole the album leaves things open to interpretation. Does »The End of Capitalism« sound elegiac or triumphant? And what do you actually make of this musical vision of the Floridian metropolis, whose mere existence is threatened by climate change already today, four decades from now? Mario doesn’t necessarily answer these questions—he doesn’t tell, he shows.