Search:hallucinator

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We Launch A New Vinyl Series, Strictly Limited To 200 Units, No Repress, On Which We'll Be Releasing The Finest Tracks Released On The Digital Pot (digipot).

For This Second Strike, We've Chosen A Couple Of Tracks Released Back In 2015, For Our 10 Year Anniversary.


This Time, Italian Duo Hallucinator, Usual Suspect On Prspct Recordings And On The Biggest Hardcore Events Worldwide, Delivers A Psychodelic Mad Track Called "circus Freak". Banger.
On The Flip, Once Again For This Vinyl Limited Series, French Duo Katharsys Brings A Bunch Of Filthness With Suricate.

Gnod's now twenty year journey through spiritual and audial exploration has been driven by relentless curiosity, magpie irreverence and a fierce countercultural imperative, their project has always refused to acknowledge all or any rules and boundaries, internal or external. The latest adventure of this band may never have been intended to celebrate their two-decade anniversary, but in true Gnod fashion by, what began as a trip into a residential studio setup in Hellfire Studios with producer John `Spud' Murphy (Lankum, Black MIDI, Caroline) for six days, resulted in more potent material than anyone bargained for. The end result has been three studio albums to be released over the next year. "This trilogy revealed itself to us in the studio" says Paddy. "We were hoping to get a good album out of the session and lo and behold we got three of the fuckers. It's interesting that we did pretty much capture the full spectrum of the Gnod sound across all three". In fact, this intrepid first instalment of the `Chronicles Of Gnowt' trilogy covers an alarming amount of sonic territory all on its own. Driven as always by the power of repetition as well as Gnod's alchemical marriage of the maximal and the minimal, this album is imbued with a vivid focus that's testimony to the chemistry of the sessions, coupled with a detailed and spacious production from Murphy that brings out the psychedelic sound worlds of the band in vivid colour. This is a travelogue which delves into pastoral tranquillity (as on `Three Trees Parts 1&2') just as adeptly as expansive Earth-tinged riff monoliths (`All Tunnel No Light') and just as formidably as the closing epic `Ekstasis' - a hallucinatory vista where kraut-tinged experimentalism meets Swans-style intensity. Yet all the while, truly sounding like no one but Gnod.

Devotional music most often gets distilled into earthy chants and ancient folklore, it doesn't always ascend to the sky like Julinko’s ‘Naebula’ an album that from the first organ note clearly trades in terrestrial dreams for ethereal visions. A feverish quality permeates the whole record, as if a ritualistic performance was being captured from start to finish, a collection of hallucinatory doom, synthetic neo-folk hymns and ghostly art-rock.

Julinko, stage name for Giulia Parin Zecchin, has long been one of the best kept secrets of the experimental community in North-East Italy, with three records that helped define her unique blend of heavy psychedelia, slowcore and dark ambient. On ‘Naebula’ what really stands out is how powerful and soaring her voice is, a weapon of undeniable force that can transform into a vessel of raw fervour or glide effortlessly as a delicate lament. Her unconventional approach shines through on tracks like ‘Jeanne De Rien’, where a marching pulse acts as a pillar for an extended mantra, almost verging into powwow territory. ‘Peace Of The Unsaid’ uses its arrhythmical structure to create space, a crepuscular night ode that reaches the heights of Sinead O’Connor’s most intimate force-fulness while retaining a sweet composure. Whether it’s glacial murderous shrieks or gospel-esque vitality, songs like ‘Cloudmachine’ or ‘Kiss The Lion’s Tongue’ seem to draw as much from a tradition of European minimalism, the use of drones and repetition, to the tradition of folksongs as hymns, where modal harmonies make way for an apparent stasis. Another key element in Julinko’s songwriting is the seamless blend of her minimalistic approach with these dense textures borrowed from a distant outsider metal heritage, Lynchean noir on steroids or wordless exorcisms with deep undercurrents.

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

A quick scan of the world’s favourite crowdsourced discography reveals that Sonic Youth co-founder Lee Ranaldo was not a total stranger to crackling electric experimentation in the years following his songwriting turns of the 20-teens. Yet »The System«, ingeniously culled and sequenced from Ranaldo’s soundtrack work for Dutch filmmaker Joris Postema’s ›eco-doc‹ of the same name, nonetheless feels like a reawakening. Quietly released in a vastly different (and much more ›filmic‹) form by Doxy Music/Riva Media Records in 2025, this LP reimagines and reconfigures the initial release, including unreleased material written and recorded for the film, to lend it new stature as both a return to drone-improv form and a reunion with introspective Downtown angst.

Given the state of the world, it’s not surprising that the film Ranaldo scores – a documentary on three climate activists bruising their fists on the black iron prison of techno-fascist deathkultur – is a study in despair and futility. But rather than wallowing in navel-gazing doom and gloom, the film documents the unstoppable spirit that has animated human resistance since the time of the Pharaohs.

As it turns out, the gorgeous scope of Lee Ranaldo’s guitar palette is a perfect manifestation of the hope and despair that animates the film. But like other high-water marks in the guitar-centric soundtrack canon – the high plains raga of Bruce Langhorne’s »Hired Hand«, Neil Young’s sparse and ghostly solo transmissions on »Dead Man«, or the monolithic mantras of Popol Vuh’s »Nosferatu« – its devotion to spectral gestures and meditative song forms launches it firmly outside of the OST orbit into a universe fully its own.

It might seem like a long journey from the Lower Manhattan rhythmic grime of the album’s opener »Tajikistan (Nice to Meet You)« (reminiscent of guitar opuses like Robert Quine and Jody Harris’s »Escape«) to the ringing cowboy chords of the final track, but the narrative logic of the LP pulls the listener along as solidly as a pack horse. As the LP unwinds, and collaborators like Jim Jarmusch, cellist Leila Boudreil, Yeah Yeah Yeahs snare shaman Brian Chase, and guitarist Yonatan Gat take their places, new vistas unfurl: the ritualistic thrum of »Berlin Blockade«, the haunted overtone palaces of »Bergelmir«, and the cavernous acoustic strumming of »Instruments of Violence«. It all winds up with the high lonesome standard »Cool Water«, each unhurried note trailing off into long-tail reverb, layers of shifting vocal harmonies pulling everything skyward – a hopeful note in an album where existential dread never lurks too deeply below the surface.

In the end, »The System« functions both as a film score and a hallucinatory (mostly) instrumental guitar record, revealing a sensibility not too often spotted in the 21st century – a liminal space where the song, the jam, and the meditation merge into a blurred whole. »The System«’s expansive fabric, emerging from a collective sound circling around Ranaldo’s signature tones, envelops and ampl amplifies the contributions of its community of creators – the perfect antidote to narcissistic despair. Much like the subjects of the film light the way towards intra-generational resistance, the music of »The System« reveals a path through gathering darkness. The world could be yours if you follow.

– Tom Carter

“Negative Music / The Poorest! If they still know silence at all, then only as holes in the continuum of noise…” — Günther Anders, 1965

Editions Mego presents GETGETGET, a new release by Thomas Brinkmann which serves as an inquiry into silence, code, and the limits of perception.

The title GETGETGET references the trilogy of ‘Get’ lp’s made by Rehberg under his PITA moniker; Get Out, Get In and Get On. The music is based on material by Rehberg and Brinkmann morphing these two identities into a third colour, a disappearing color.

Emerging from a live performance at the label’s 30th anniversary in Berlin, the work unfolds as both sonic artifact and conceptual system: a study in what remains when sound is reduced, extracted, and reconstituted.

Taking inspiration from Günther Anders’ notion of “negative music”—composition through absence—Brinkmann’s approach aligns with Heinrich Böll’s idea of “collected silence”: silence not as void, but as a material framed against the constant pressure of noise. In GETGETGET, pauses are not gaps but structural elements, cut from a continuum and reinserted as signals.

The two side long tracks weave a dark abstract and ‘twisted’ presence where the ghosts of the machines and their operators fuse into a fantastical whole. One can hear traces of both Brinkmann and Rehberg logic which seems to fuse in a hallucinatory manner.

Brinkmann’s work reflects a broader condition: the translation of material processes into informational ones. As images detach from bodies and code separates from matter, sound too loses its fixed resonance. What remains is circulation—of signals, of data, of meaning—within systems that increasingly define perception itself.

GETGETGET is an album where absence is equal to presence, a metaphor with suggestive tones of the influence Rehberg had and continues to have in the world of the radical experimental electronic avant garde. The “zero” is not empty; it is what makes everything else work.

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

For over 25 years, David Madson (aka Odd Nosdam) has been stationed away from the light of the mainstream, diligently working the nightshift. Every so often, we awake to find another of his bleary and beautiful missives slung into the waking world – albums whose assemblages of sampled grooves, atmospheres and voices are unified by a hallucinatory sense of melody, like disparate visions strung together through ribbons of sleep-talk. From his earliest days as a member of the seminal group cLOUDDEAD, through his remixes for artists such as Boards of Canada and Black Moth Super Rainbow, Nosdam has been reporting back from his rounds upon the perimeters of culture and consciousness, forging a musical language all of his own.

On Patrol is the second Odd Nosdam LP to be released on The Notwist’s imprint Alien Transistor – following on from the 2019 album Mirrors – and continues a collaborative history that begun with a 2008 remix of The Notwist song, “Sleep”. It’s a love letter to the vinyl format, produced with the aim of optimizing for a single LP. This objective permeated every aspect of the album’s production, from the duration of each side through to the vinyl mastering (Jessica Thompson) and lacquer-cutting (Dubplates & Mastering, Berlin). As we've come to expect, the album is built almost entirely from found sounds, many of which were taken from obscure and second-hand vinyl gathered during Nosdam’s ceaseless crate-digging escapades. Other sources include field recordings made in 2022 at the Catalonia summer home of artist Salvador Dalí, which are baked into the swirling sci-fi glide of “Here to Know (Adéu Mix)”, and a sumptuous clunking bass line courtesy of Organi’s Mike Walti, which runs like an infinite highway through the fuzzy, sunbaked sprawl of “Deepsimple”.

Odd Nosdam’s work has always swept the entire atmospheric spectrum, from rhythmic vigour to levitational beauty. On Patrol is perhaps his finest assimilation of these extremes. “Sgt. Pepsi” is the perfect case in point: a formidable slow groove capsizes into vinyl crackle after a mere minute, before the song resurrects itself through sweeping strings and vocal harmonies, sliding against each other like the overlain romantic denouements to a dozen Hollywood films from the 1940s. Elsewhere, “Get You In (Belong Mix)” drapes shoegaze guitar over a trundling funk backbeat, straddling the physical world and the outer realms, while hushed voices point toward the song's implied themes of cultural cliques, critical consensus and the plight of the eternal outsider: “Sure, I can get you in... these people are my friends, I’m one of them - I belong.”

This is music that both endures and disappears. Odd Nosdam has always wielded a strange relationship with time, scrambling association with any specific era, weaving together numerous tempos simultaneously. There is no master clock. Each track could happily hold up as an infinite loop, yet Nosdam clearly favours the potency of the gone-too-soon, applying the fadeout just as hypnosis starts to crest. Indeed, the songs are both the product of meticulous long-term construction and spontaneity. While the foundations of On Patrol have come together over several years, the recording process involved channeling vibes through a vintage Roland Space Echo and bouncing song fragments back and forth from hard disk to cassette 8-track, gifting a phased permanence to creative decisions made on the fly – a hat-tip to the production processes of Nosdam's longtime hero, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry. Like a recurring dream, On Patrol appeals to both the plains of momentary ephemera and the long-established backchannels of the unconscious, equal parts revelation and deja vu.

Text by Jack Chuter
Artwork by Ian Ferguson

Rotterdam’s Nathan Homan jumps into the Spectral Bounce spotlight on SPEC09 — Frog Mine. These three cuts of mesmeric tech house roll, slip and spring from the speakers.

His Spectral Bounce debut is exemplified by punchy percussion playing against obscured, otherworldly sonics — something Homan has a particular instinct for, and which slot seamlessly into the SPEC catalog. Starting proceedings with a taut beat, snappy drums and hallucinatory croaks, the titular “Frog Mine” creates a hypnotic trip. Second track “Hyp” is a well-honed tech house roller: its adeptly slinking rhythm hearkens back to the 00’s, yet this framework is expanded upon with alien timbres and pinwheeling FX. Having set a heady tone, Homan doesn’t shy away from loosening up his sound: swapping the original’s smooth propulsion for a healthy dose of jackin’ bounce, the house mix of “Hyp” strips the ingredients back, before adding a cascade of syncopated toms and a seriously thumping kick.

SPEC09 — Amphibians on deck!

Should you happen to have been paying attention to progressive house and trance in the mid 1990s, you may well be familiar with Brendan McCarthy's most celebrated release as Aquartherium, 1994's Full Moon EP. It was a massive record across Europe but also found favour in San Francisco's freewheeling free party scene. 'Full Moon' itself is especially potent - an all-action chunk of hallucinatory progressive house/trance fusion full of star-burst synth motifs, bubbly electronics and ambient techno sonics - though the heavier, bleep-sporting, Brown Album-era Orbital flex of 'Luci In Deep Hypnosis' is just as good.

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.

Extinction Burst! is the new invocation in album-form by Guttersnipe, Leeds’ premier and pre-eminent XFCER (XFCER: Xenofeminist crisis-energy rock)* duo. Slamming at full speed to multi-dimensional oblivion, Extinction Burst! is the most full, hidefinition lurid dream-mare yet spewed out by Uroceras Gigas & Tipula Confusa. Engineered and mixed by Ross Halden at Hohm Studio in Bradford and mastered by Rashad Becker, Extinction Burst! follows 2018’s My Mother The Vent, which garnered universal critical adoration. Nevertheless, this long-awaited follow up is more extreme: it is wildness beyond reason, splitting new tears in the reality gauze, ultimate hallucination through sound ecstasy. 2026’s Guttersnipe are evolved, mutated by 8 years of touring together and with the labyrinthine network of groups both Guttersnipe members are involved with - Tristwch Y Fenywod, Nape Neck, Petronn Sphene, Yexxen to name a few. On Extinction Burst!, as with previous material, the duo are heavily augmented with technology. Tipula Confusa's drum kit triggers chasm-causing synth pulses with thumping low end attack.. Strafing from all over the stereo field the constant shatter of the cymbals and toms feel like Sunny Murray or Rashied Ali in full flight during a John Coltrane session in 1967. Uroceras Gigas’s guitar + synth storm is by-now similarly an instantly recognised tool kit in underground music. Switching from screeching guitar atonality to intricate riffs from the black metal/Voivod hinterland to ultra-distorted synth meltdown, it’s an utterly overwhelming, essential and vital pouring-out of the full emotional spectrum. Both artists vocalise, ecstatic and primal, drawn out or yelped in pain or pleasure or panic. Alive On Tuesday begins with some of the only space on Extinction Burst! Digital crackles and tight-delays blow out into a fullthrottled death-dive into sweet opaqueness, offset by the duo’s vocals. There’s a popular believe that Guttersnipe is chaos, but over 9 mins here the group are clinical in their control of the simulated entropy. Mincing while the Maelstrom Churns’s guitar is modulated into jagged atonal atonement, duetting with the virtuoso drum patterns before it thuds into gear at quadruple the speed. Threads Of Radical Unaliveness veers close to the extreme Metal influences with blast beats and guttural vocalisations until the track exhausts itself into unaliveness. Keep Honking summons a demonic digital panic, with the duo reincarnating in real time as haunted versions of themselves, almost translating the lurid, ultra vivid, simultaneous hell+heaven of being alive in this dimension. Primordial Invagination harnesses No Wave’s dissension of normality before the structured collapse of Skra¨ckblandad Fo¨rtjusning, in which Tipula Confusa’s accelerating drums simulate a bouncing barrel of brimstone descending into a primordial gunky ooze, a respite in the middle before the record splutters to a stuttering finale, both members’ vocals out there in the neon realness, alive with crisis energy. There is nothing on this cursed earth like Guttersnipe. For over 10 years they have whirled in a wiggliness both woebegone and wonderstruck on a mission of radical mutant exaltation using rock music weaponry loaded with a queer hysterical ammunition to rupture the fabric of the known Rock universe and unleash a tendril-soft hallucinatory violence; thrumming with the bracing vividness of insect bodies, crazed with alien synaesthetic emotions, harnessing jagged excoriating illogic as a face meltingly snazzy affront to redundant macho mediocrity with the hope to break minds, squeeze hearts, explode pelvises and maybe even reset the parameters of reality. Addendum: xenofeminist : proposing and creating a world defined not only by sexual/gender equality, queer empowerment and the toppling of the racist heteropatriarchal hegemony and it’s tyranny of phallogocentric signifiers, but a philosophy of radical queerness that explodes the basic notion of embodied existence itself beyond even the human, where we see bacteria, invertebrates, reptiles, marine life, animalia in general, inanimate objects, quantum phenomena and as yet inarticulated bodies and minds as social and political equals that may inspire and inform our concepts of self, feeling and meaning as we labour to build a collective reality that doesn’t completely suck!! crisis energy : a term borrowed from the weird fiction author china mieville to describe a type of extreme concentration of power which emerges when a system or organism is pushed to it’s absolute limit; the point of rupture, chaos, entropic overload, just before it all breaks apart. rock : Rock ’n’ Roll, rock music, the devil’s music, sex, guitar, drums, voice, rhythm, riffs!

Over the past few years, Munich based polymath Lindsey Wang has risen to the forefront of the club scene under her Polygonia alias, creating a stream of spectacular releases where she tirelessly twists techno into a living, breathing ecosystem.

As she appears on Timedance for the first time, Polygonia sculpts a set of four immersive, pressure‐loaded club tracks where earthy psychedelia brushes up against precision‐engineered rhythm, inviting dancers into a zone that feels both ritualistic and sharply futuristic.

“Ceaseless Motion” draws on deep‐focus sound design, restless percussion and subtly warped harmonies, all threaded by a quietly hallucinatory sense of detail that really takes our breath away, and will surely bring the distinctive dancer to the very front of the bass bins.

Heavy, reminiscent of a release from the nineties, Younger Than Me pulls us through interdimensional soundscapes on his debut to the label — a wormhole morphing from ultra-emotive breakbeat and hallucinatory progressions into full-blown, boisterous acid techno at its very best. A producer with an endless catalogue of releases, notably on incredible labels including Jennifer Cardini’s Dischi Autunno, now steps up on Neptune Discs with his Vaco Loco EP. The Berlin-based, Italy-born producer is joined by Byron Yeates and label regular Biodive on the B-side, each taking turns remixing A3, Aargh!!!, pulling it in different direction — one leaning into trippy trance atmospheres, the other exploring a more immersive progressive terrain.

2026 Repress

Akusmi is the project moniker of French-born, London based composer, multi-instrumentalist and producer Pascal Bideau, who signs to the new Tonal Union imprint for the release of his album 'Fleeting Future.' With its hallucinatory, genre-defying blend of minimalism, cosmic jazz and Fourth World influences, and in its quest for optimism in the face of unknown and limitless possibility. 'Fleeting Future' stands apart as an inventive and inspirational debut.

The creation of the album's richly colourful and multi-layered sound world was originally inspired by Bideau's journey to Indonesia, where he immersed himself in traditional Gamelan and gong music. Many of the themes, motifs and melodies on 'Fleeting Future' seed from the 'Slendro' scale, one of the essential tuning systems used in Gamelan. However it is not musical scales, but scales as in the size or extent of things that most fascinates Bideau, specifically he explains; "the compelling way things dramatically change when you shift from any given scale to another."

The album connects directly to nature and the wider world in its evocation of perceptive shifts and transitions from microscopic to macro scale, as evidenced by the opening title track 'Fleeting Future', on which a simple dotted saxophone line morphs and billows into synths, brass and strings, indicating the musical voyage that lies ahead. Like the start of a journey or adventure it is full of anticipation, its arborescent growth conveying the optimism of the unknown and of limitless possibility. The album centrepiece 'Neo Tokyo' is a vibrating, ebullient mass of colliding elements which feels like zooming in to the electron level, as it teeters on the edge of chaos. The title is a reference to Katsuhiro Otomo's Akira, a dizzying work of art set in a sprawling futuristic metropolis.

'Yurikamome', meanwhile, is an imaginary soundtrack inspired by Bideau's yearning to visit Japan which he fuels by watching Youtube videos of drives and rides through Japanese landscapes and cities. "It's amazing" he adds, "that we have the ability to access almost anywhere in the world and see what it's like, that people document it and upload it. It's never going to be any replacement for the real thing, but with places that really touch you, it works." The track is named after a Japanese monorail train line which rides from Shinbashi to Toyosu, a last journey that feels like a new beginning.


'Fleeting Future' was composed and recorded by Bideau between 2017 and 2019 in his North London studio and features additional contributions recorded in Berlin by Florian Juncker (trombone), Ruth Velten (saxophone) and regular collaborator Daniel Brandt of Brandt Brauer Frick (drums / electronic percussion). Having been living through uncertain times, one thing that keeps spiralling into the unknown is the future, about which Bideau leaves us with a final thought:

"The future is fascinating: It is constantly readjusting to new events. I feel we left a linear approach to the future to enter an arborescent one where all the data and information we have about what could happen is exponentially ever-growing. Following a branch might allow you to glimpse into what it may become, but the evolution of the whole picture might very well render the prediction totally obsolete, and even meaningless. In that sense, there is not one future but innumerable ones all cancelling each other. That's what makes it fleeting."

Bambe welcomes Low Jack — the alias of French producer Philippe Hallais — to the label with his debut single “MARKET,” backed by a remix from Bambe label head Bambounou. Following the dark ambient explorations of his recent album Lacrimosa on Stroom, Low Jack returns decisively to the dance floor, channeling his club instincts while preserving a deep-rooted connection to contemporary art.

Originally conceived as a commissioned composition for Australian visual artist Thomas Jeppe, “MARKET” was created to accompany an immersive installation exploring the hallucinatory rhythms of cosmopolitan life. The work was presented in February 2025 at Circolo UltraFiorucci, a newly launched cultural space in Milan, where sound and image converged to envelop visitors in Jeppe’s vivid, destabilized urban vision.

Recontextualized for the club, “MARKET” bridges installation and dance floor, reinforcing Low Jack’s singular ability to move fluidly between experimental art contexts and forward-leaning club music — now sharpened further by Bambounou’s remix, which pushes the track into electro territory.

Born Bad Records knew exactly what it was doing when it signed this Nantes-based trio, whose sharply defined sound and raw authenticity stand out. With Rage Blossom, Île de Garde unveils an EP charged with palpable tension, somewhere between dark pop and psycho-wave. A catalogue of modern misdeeds, a David Lynch-like backdrop where Sylvia Plath’s poetry might cross paths with the controlled excesses of Fever Ray.



The EP opens with “Fear The Sun,” its Mike Oldfield-esque soundscapes plunging us into an apocalyptic and unsettling world. “Homicide Volontaire” follows with meticulous narration, a technical exercise evoking the anger and defiant lucidity of a Virginie Despentes. The hallucinatory hit “To Death” snaps like an anthem to collective dancing in the face of the inevitable. Since we’re going to die, let’s dance! On the B-side, “Ageless Woman” weaves together a half-mythological, half-mysterious text, carried by haunting backing vocals. “Birthday Girl,” featuring Kuntessa, radiates an ironic and joyful riot-grrrl energy, an uninhibited celebration of women’s liberation. Finally, “Boy,” a small post-punk jewel, closes the EP with an ending as surprising as it is delicate.

The group’s genius also lies in the complementarity of its musicians. Morgane Poulain anchors the drums with a dynamic that is both subtle and narrative, airy yet jagged. Cécile Aurégan, the architect behind a multitude of synths, builds powerful sonic landscapes, layer upon layer. Klara Coudrais, the band’s poetic figurehead, elevates her texts with a rich and plural vocal palette, giving life to several characters who vibrate with intensity. The band’s writing, hovering between darkness and light, echoes a kind of visceral poetry, exploring the seasons of the soul with authenticity and force.



With this EP, Île de Garde establishes itself as a band to watch closely, capable of translating on stage both the raw energy and the fine craftsmanship that define their music. An immersive journey, full of tension, urgency, beauty, and electric flashes.



Île de Garde, a Nantes-based trio with sharply drawn sonic contours and raw authenticity, unleashes its full arsenal on Rage Blossom, an EP radiating palpable tension between dark pop and psycho-wave. A catalogue of modern misdeeds, a David Lynch-like setting where Sylvia Plath’s poetry would meet the controlled excesses of Fever Ray. An immersive journey of tension, urgency, beauty, and electric sparks.

Opening track “Fear The Sun” plunges us into an apocalyptic and unsettling landscape. “Homicide Volontaire” continues with meticulous storytelling, a crime vignette evoking anger and the fierce lucidity summoned by a situation with no way out. The hallucinatory trance of “To Death” snaps like an anthem to collective dance in the face of the inevitable. Since we are going to die, let’s dance! “Ageless Woman” blends a half-mythological, half-mysterious text, carried by hypnotic backing vocals. “Birthday Girl,” featuring Kuntessa, releases an ironic and joyful riot-grrrl spirit, an uninhibited celebration of feminine liberation. Finally, “Boy,” a small post-punk case study, closes the EP with a simple, sensitive truth.



The three musicians propel and relay one another in this breathless race. Morgane Poulain drives the drums with a dynamic that is both subtle and narrative, airy yet staccato. Cécile Aurégan, architect of multiple synths, builds powerful sonic landscapes, layer after layer. Klara Coudrais, the storyteller, elevates her texts with a rich and multifaceted vocal palette, giving life to all their characters, both mythical and ordinary. The band’s writing, between darkness and light, proclaims a visceral poetry, exploring the seasons of the soul with authenticity and strength.

Lungfish's seventh album, released in 1999.

This pressing of the LP is on Translucent Lime Green.

This album was re-issued on both CD and LP+MP3 in June 2011.

Daniel Higgs vocals Asa Osborne guitar Nathan Bell bass Mitchell Feldstein drums

Recorded At
Inner Ear Studios
Mixed By
Ian MacKaye and Lungfish

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

When Leng Records founders Paul ‘Mudd’ Murphy and Simon Purnell marked the imprint’s 10th birthday, they did so via a celebratory compilation that mixed classic catalogue cuts, remixes and exclusives. Five years on, and with the label’s 15th birthday upon us, they’ve decided to look to the future via a compilation made up entirely of fresh productions from Leng’s roster of current and new artists. Presented on limited-edition gatefold double vinyl with a bonus 10” single, the collection offers an updated showcase of Leng’s much-loved trademark sound, a distinctive fusion of mid-tempo sleazy-disco, Balearica and chugging house interspersed with elements of electronic psychedelia and synth-powered space disco. Fittingly for a compilation that wholeheartedly looks to the future, you’ll find first contributions from a handful of label newcomers.

Fast-rising duo Flying Mojito Bros give their spin on ‘Smoke Signals’ by label debutants Joe HarveyWhyte and Bobby Lee, turning in a heady and inspired revision that sits somewhere between dusk-ready cosmic disco and flash-fried desert blues. There’s also an appearance from Swedish producer Bo Wosticz with the dreamy and ultra-deep nu-jazz of ‘Bs As’. Naturally, you’ll also find plenty of heat from those who have already proved their mettle through prior releases on Leng. Danish duo Liminal, who made their debut earlier this year with the much-played ‘Keep Coming Back To Me’, open proceedings with the tactile, slow-disco flex of ‘Tzatziki Bay’ where sweet synth melodies and a heady electric piano riff ride a warming groove.

Roberto Intrallazzi and Dario Piana from Italy’s original Afro-cosmic movement return with ‘Plutos’, a typically deep dubbed-out cosmic chugger. Then there’s Rose Robinson AKA Tigerbalm, whose ‘Mexicana’ featuring singer Joi N’Juno is presented across the package in two different forms. Pete Herbert, who contributed to some of the earliest Leng releases, drops a driving dub disco take on the main compilation, while Robinson’s original mix – a more organic, percussive and horn-heavy affair blessed with plenty of hallucinatory intent – opens the bonus 10”.

There’s a welcome return to Leng for the brilliant Payfone, whose ‘Dime Algo’ is a typically classy, analogue-rich affair in which attractive Rhodes riffs, atmospheric female vocals and pitched-down house pianos rise above shuffling drum machine beats and a slow-motion bassline. Long-serving label contributor Lex (Athens) delivers the loose-limbed nu-disco breeze of ‘Stolen Dance’, while the imprint’s San Francisco connection – the ever-brilliant 40 Thieves collective – drop the dubbed-out Bay Area brilliance of ‘Such A Great Trip’.

Then there are the contributions of the label’s most storied artist, Andrew Meecham AKA Emperor Machine with ‘Eumig’, a deliciously slow, synth-rich chugger full of colourful chords, bubbly electronic melodies and jaunty electronic bass. Then, to round off the bonus 10” single, Meecham joins forces with Paul Murphy (as Mudd) on ‘Road To Nikko’, an extended, Japanese musical culture-influenced slab of pitched-down alien-funk packed to the rafters with squelchy synth sounds, effects-laden percussion, chiming melodies and rubbery bass guitar.

The first ASFON release has been a year-long labour of love that has come into being from what felt like a lucid dream, off in the distance, too crazy to believe was real. From our first meeting in the Freerotation yurt to late-night exchanges in Bristol, Winkles (Jamie Slater) has been sharing tracks that lingered long after the party ended. Their raw textures and warped sense of time found a natural home in our sets, eventually leading to the emergence of ‘The Unavoidable EP’, a collection of four diverse tracks which form a singular, immersive experience.

On A1 journey, The Unavoidable Consequence Of Familiarity, a knocking kick opens the door to this new sound world, introducing us to the granular clicks, crazed telephony and vocoded grunts which populate the deep space of Winkles’ imagination. Machines whir and perception shifts in the space between distant synth stabs, while a pulsating bassline battles to break through the filter and create a throbbing low end. Hallucinatory and deep, this is the perfect introduction to both the EP and the ASFON outlook.

Semi Stretches sees Winkles pick up a signal from beyond the outer rim, fire up the hyperdrive and lock into the rolling hum of intergalactic techno. Juggernaut bass forms the perfect counterpoint to the rapid fire rim shots trembling away up top as this Venusian club craft battles static, drives through the milky cosmic and transports the dancing bodies to a Multicoloured Plasticine Universe.

Cutting the engines and switching to suspended animation, Winkles lets us drift through a hazy dream-space where there’s no up or down, where twinkling arps, insectile electronics and hazy sirens coalesce into a psychotropic swirl.

Out of this multicoloured mirage comes Osaka-based astral traveller Erik Luebs, who translates that peak-time ambient bubbler into a Balearic chugger which emerges from the ether to add another dimension to the EP. Rubberised bass, velvet pads and nuanced percussion ensure this is perfect for poolside play in a land of pink sand and sideways tides.

“Where Animals Play” is the second General Dynamics album, arriving two years after their successful debut LP “Weaponize Your Dreams”. This second manifestation is the logical and brutal continuation of their distinct sound; menacing vocals splayed across an array of precision sampling, destructive percussion and finessed synth work. The duo (consisting of members SARIN + QUAL) embodies, assimilates and re-interprets the ethos & defiance of industrial & cyberpunk culture, taking their approach to new, harsh extremes. Their most recent hallucinatory output is a broad rejection of the current & dominant global trajectory; one that seeks to enslave and destroy humankind via an unhinged amalgamation of fascism, deregulated capitalism & the exploitative use of emerging technology.

LORD PARAMOUR IS BACK!
After their first big break, the duo returns with "Doom", a second album as daring as it is captivating.
At the helm are DJ Marrrtin, graffiti artist, beatmaker, Stereophonk label captain, member of Funky Bijou, Aktshun, Tino & Marrrtin… & Ajax Tow, DJ-cosmonaut and all-round musician, known for his unpredictable and eclectic sets.
DOOM is a true sonic odyssey: edgy breakbeats, hallucinatory psychedelic vibes, oriental grooves in the style of post-Bollywood library music, a hint of 70s krautrock… and always that downtempo, post-punk, and space groove that is their signature style.
An album like a journey through a cosmic mixtape—retro, futuristic, romantic, and radically free. DOOM isn't just a record. It's a sonic adventure. An imaginary soundtrack. A stylish slap.
Edition of 300 ex - Hand mande Screen printed cover - Hand numbered.

North View Records is an emerging Bristol-based label that values the music’s atmosphere and integrity equal to it’s technical production, aiming to resonate with listeners through immersive electronic soundscapes. For their debut release, label founder oliver presents ‘Quiet Thud’, an album inspired by expansive and untamed coastline. The 11 tracks take a hallucinatory trip through techno, downtempo, ambient and guitar-led music, drawing on diverse influences whilst remaining distinctive and ethereal.

North View Records is an emerging Bristol-based label that values the music’s atmosphere and integrity equal to it’s technical production, aiming to resonate with listeners through immersive electronic soundscapes. For their debut release, label founder oliver presents ‘Quiet Thud’, an album inspired by expansive and untamed coastline. The 11 tracks take a hallucinatory trip through techno, downtempo, ambient and guitar-led music, drawing on diverse influences whilst remaining distinctive and ethereal.

‘Closer Thud Mix’ and ‘New Light’ introduce panoramic soundscapes to club focused tracks, with warped electronics and swelling wide-angle pads giving contrast to the fine-grain textures and driving percussive elements. Tracks such as ‘Plaza’, ‘Ribbon’ and ‘Joyride’ lend a nostalgic character to the album, presenting wistful and distant melodies that interplay with the off-hand live instrumentation, building a gentle and nuanced sonic palette.

‘Ruin’ balances delicate arpeggios with pulsing distortion and drum programming, evoking a brooding scene fitting of its title. Album closer ‘DRM Reprise’ also explores darker themes, led by a piercing vocal emulation that warps and evolves amongst sparse percussion. In contrast, ‘Still Life’, ‘Everything’, ‘Coastal’ and ‘Overground’ bring warmth and balance to the overall experience, offering moments of lightness and reflection as the clouds break, sunlight spilling across the open landscape.



b A2. Closer Thud Mix

Liner Notes by Martyn Pepperell

A collection of ten hypnotic guitar renditions that dive deeply into the traditional compositional musicality that underpins Harakami’s hallucinatory beatscapes before reconsidering them under a fresh, innovative and engaging new light. River: The Timbre of Guitar #2 Rei Harakami signals a new level of awareness and understanding of both Rei Harakami’s significance and Ayane Shino’s undeniable talent.

VITAL SALES POINTS:

In 1996 Tokyo-based label Sublime Records received a cassette demo from Rei Harakami, a 26-year-old Japanese experimental filmmaker, and musician. Within one year Harakami’s debut LP ‘Unrest’ was released. As the 21st century dawned, Harakami was becoming a critically acclaimed figure, and there was a feeling in Japan that Harakami would be an inevitable successor to such luminaries as Haruomi Hosono and Ryuichi Sakamoto. Sadly Harakami passed away at age 40 in 2011, leaving behind a musical legacy that seemed to deserve more recognition. A fitting tribute now comes from the incredibly gifted classical guitarist Ayane Shino. Continuing her album series ‘The Timbre of Guitar’ (the inaugural release of which was ‘Sakura’ - a cover album of Susumu Yokota's seminal album, released through the Swiss label, Mental Groove Records in 2021), she now presents ‘River ???? : The Timbre of Guitar #2 Rei Harakami’. Ayane has reworked some of Harakami’s standout tracks into an album of tranquil yet complex compositions helping to build a new level of awareness and understanding of Rei Harakami’s significance. A collection of ten hypnotic guitar renditions that dive deeply into the traditional compositional musicality that underpins Harakami’s hallucinatory beatscapes before reconsidering them under a fresh, innovative and engaging new light.

In the years that followed Harakami’s untimely passing, Sublime Records continued to sign and support new artists emerging from Japan’s rich and fertile electronic music scene. This eventually led to a meeting with gifted classical guitarist Ayane Shino in 2020. Although a new name within electronica, Shino’s classical resume is impeccable. She has performed with a range of prestigious orchestras in concert halls and at music festivals across Japan, Europe, and South America while playing classical guitar for numerous animations, movies and television commercials and holding various educational roles. These days, she also hosts the Tokyo Harmonics radio show, which is syndicated through Hyogo prefecture’s Ashiya Radio and TJS Radio in Los Angeles.

During her time completing a masters at Tokyo’s University of the Arts, Shino became fascinated by Brian Eno, Aphex Twin, Oneohtrix Point Never, Steve Reich, and, closer to home, Harakami and Susumu Yokota. ”I found myself in an environment where I was surrounded by fellow students who produced computer music, live electronics, and installations,” she explains. Following her meeting with Sublime, Hideoki Amano, the producer and owner of Musicmine, the parent company of the label, asked Shino if she would be open to transcribing and recording an album of covers of the late, great composer, producer and DJ Susumu Yokota’s music in incorporate into then-upcoming events commemorating the 5th anniversary of his death and reissues of his past works. “Yokota made music with the Roland TB-303 bass synthesizer and samplers, not in a way like a conventional instrumentalist, so I was aware it might be more of a challenge for her,” Amano explains. Fittingly, Shino was up for his suggestion, leading to ‘Sakura: The Timbre Of Guitars #1 Susumu Yokota’. Song by song, Sakura highlighted Shino’s free-flowing playing and prowess at translating electronic music into classical guitar shapes.
After considering Harakami’s background as an instrumentalist, Amano felt revisiting his catalogue should be the next step for Shino. Well-versed in how often classical versions of electronic music tend to fall flat, he asked her to examine Harakami’s songs closely, select the musical phrases suitable for guitar and create arrangements that would sound interesting to music listeners with a deep engagement with ambient, techno and electronica. In Harakami’s discography, Shino discovered “a sense of simplicity, warmth, moisture and a floating sensation.” “I was gripped by his songs, which had an array of sounds that gave me a sense of mystery but also coexisted with a sense of familiarity,” she explained. Moving beyond his official releases, Shino began digging through YouTube to find live recordings, radio appearances and obscure outtakes. Within her mind’s eye, imagining playing his songs on guitar was effortless. On her approach to the album, Ayane explains: “For this album, I succeeded in spinning some exquisite, silk thread like delicate tones, interwoven with human warmth, gentleness and simplicity. And I was also able to rework Rei Harakami's distinctive sound with a floating feel to it and transform it into a very classical guitar sound. I hope many people will be able to receive this group of sounds that I created in this album that I played with all my heart.” A record of limitless innate beauty, ‘River ???? : The Timbre of Guitar #2 Rei Harakami’ is a delicate and thoughtful body of work. A true masterclass in deconstruction and subsequent rebuilding, and an eternal lesson in how the art that we leave behind can outlive us all.

A bold reimagining of Scottish folk in a hypermodern soundworld, In a River Shadow blends prehistoric instruments, abstract electronics, and environmental recordings into a unique sonic landscape. The result is a futuristic, technoid sound that feels both organic and otherworldly, like a biomechanical artefact unearthed from a distant future.

In a constellation of influences including Yoshio Ojima, sunytty, and the hyperrealist work of Noah Creshevsky, "Birdhouse" is a dream of voices—human, non-human, and AI-generated—unfolding tranquillity into hallucinatory spectres. On "Star of the Sea," Poole confronts a complicated relationship with prayer by reworking the Catholic hymn "Hail Queen of Heaven, the Ocean Star," reformulating the prayer and stretching vocals to their limits, transforming the piece into a drum-driven, visceral interpretation.

Across this five-track EP, Poole combines personal exploration with collaborative influences, including a partnership with Considerate Digital, and collaborations with vocalist Celine Brooks and artist Gabo.

Music : Poole, additional vocals by Celine Brooks on Weila Waila, and Gabo on Selkie of Sule Skerry.

The world was a different place in June 2020. Most of us were coming out of a first lockdown and accepting limitations, new fears, and changes in our lives. There was some hope things were going to be better, optimism in the summer, a new beginning. For some, like Molero, it was. He released his first album in June 2020, one he had been working on over the previous years. “Ficciones Del Trópico” felt like a discovery, the synths approached a new world, raw, full of wonder, fresh. It was the sound we needed, the horizon we were longing for.

Four years have passed. Molero spent most of that time thinking about and creating the music for “Destellos Del Éxtasis”. If “Ficciones Del Trópico” lived in the depths of the Amazon jungle, “Destellos Del Éxtasis” releases itself from a physical location/idea and creates upon symbolism and the abstract. The more we listen to it, the more we get lost in how he created music that is shapeless, no angles, constantly morphing, transforming into something else.

Like magic, alchemy, but also like visions, hallucinatory visions, or dreams if dreams could step out into reality. And the more we get lost, the more we are convinced the music from “Destellos Del Éxtasis” is part of us, of our body, present as a permanently passing cloud. It gets into dark places, moving constantly into new ground, testing feelings, emotions and how they gravitate with sound. There’s something different in each track. Like magic. Not magical music (but there’s an argument for that). We prefer music for magic. Ritualistic, celebratory, transformative and increasingly visual. Close your eyes, it will open your perception. Follow the ecstasy, let yourself go. The reward is here.

Ruby Red - Transparent - Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with center hole cut out so label of LP shows through) a black paper inner sleeve and poly bag.

PART ONE’ METAL HAMMER - 8/10 review. FOR FANS OF : Lustmord, Om, Sunn O))) . “An exercise in freeform ambience, ritualistic repetition and the rapturous, womb-like power of bass…strange and affecting. We remain lucky to share in the great man’s vision.”


At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.
Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, “Triptych” is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.
Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this latest outing as Harvestman finds parallels with nature’s cycles not just in its release dates but in the repeated structure that binds each album, like an imprint refracted through three separate strata. As with April’s “Part One” and the forthcoming “Part Three”, “Part Two”, starts on a collaboration with Om bassist and long-term friend of Steve’s, Al Cisneros, with a dub take opening the B-Side. Here, the opening track, “The Hag Of Beara Vs The Poet”’s languid, tribal groove expands into a chromatic wash, like an endless drip of oil spreading out under a midsummer haze.
A filtering of the alpha-state travelogues of its predecessor, “Part Two” reaches even deeper into primal yet pristine states. It journeys from the undulating drone and slow-thawing wonder of “The Falconer”, as if the Myst soundtrack were being broadcast from outer space, through “Damascus”’s perpetual-motion, dreamtime bazaar and “Vapour Phase”s seismograph frequencies measuring supernatural tremors to “The Unjust Incarceration”s distorted bagpipes, sounding a noise-frayed lament
If “Triptych” is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with “Triptych” itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Ever since he made his first trip to Japan to DJ, Optimo Music founder JD Twitch has been bewitched by Japanese music, and particularly the vibrant, imaginative, and often far-sighted sounds which emerged from the island nation during the 1980s. Now he’s put years of digging in Japanese record shops to good use on Polyphonic Cosmos, the latest release on his compilation-focused Cease & Desist imprint.

Subtitled ‘A Beginners Guide to Japan In The ‘80s’, the collection offers a personal selection of Japanese gems recorded and released between 1981 and ’86 – a period when advances in recording and musical technology offered the nation’s artists and producers a whole new tool kit to employ. When combined with the unique musical culture of Japan, where local traditions are frequently fused with Western styles to create timeless, off-kilter aural fusions, this embrace of locally pioneered music technology had spectacular, often unusual results.

Eight years in the making, Polyphonic Cosmos provides an endlessly entertaining musical snapshot of Japanese music of the early-to-mid ‘80s with all of the open-minded eclecticism and sonic twists that you would expect from the Glasgow-based DJ.

Compare and contrast, for example, the gently breezy, morning-fresh folk-plus-electronics bliss of ‘ばら二曲 Baranikyoku (Fellini&Rota)’ by World Standard – the most familiar alias of long-serving musician/producer Sohichiro Suzuki – and the hallucinatory, slow-motion tribal rhythms, post-punk rhythms and tape delay-laden electronics of Imitation’s ‘Exotic Dance’. Or, for that matter, the tipsy mid-‘80s electronic reggae of Pecker’s ‘Sha La La’, the grungy but melodic post-punk strut of ‘You Go On Natural’ by Earthling (a track Twitch accurately describes as “sheer unrelenting groove”), and the unearthly, swirling sonics, new age instrumentation and flotation tank vocals of prolific (and seemingly mysterious) act Geinoh Yamashirogumi’s ‘Rimme Kohkyogaku Meiki’.

It’s a credit to JD Twitch’s curatorial skills that the quality never dips, and sonic surprises lurk around every corner. Consider for a moment the hard to describe, far-sighted audio immersion of D-Day’s ‘Ki-Ra’ – all languid post-pop guitar, enveloping chords, spoken word vocals, shuffling 808 beats and marimba melodies – and the two contributions from video games soundtrack specialist (and driving instrumental synth-pop specialist) Hiroyuki Namba.

The collection naturally includes some selections that have long been favourites in Twitch’s DJ sets – see Masumi Hara’s ‘Your Dream’ – as well as a handful of tracks from artists who may be more recognisable to those with only rudimentary knowledge of Japanese musical culture. The great Yasuaki Shimizu, whose work as Mariah has become far better known in recent years thanks to reissues of some of his most magical albums, is represented via ‘The Crow’, a picturesque chunk of horizontal, hard-to-define jazz-not-jazz smokiness, while the collection fittingly concludes with a sublimely funky, oddball electronic workout from Yellow Magic Orchestra legend Ryuichi Sakamoto (the frankly incredible ‘Wongga Dance Song’).

Matt Anniss

Ghastly and hallucinatory – 'last liasse' is a sign of the times, alternative pop record by helen island. Within this debut album, the artist captures the saccharine gaze of digital escapism through characteristic filtered high notes, cut-up genres, and processed vocals. Providing a comprehensive overview of helen island’s self-distributed initiatives, with the ethos of the Parisian Simple Music Experience collective, the twelve tracks set a solid musical score that resonates with the age to come.

Fate is a funny old thing. One day in 2011, DJ/producer Tom Trago found himself sharing a train journey with Steven Van Lummel, a DIY musician, artist and co-founder of PIP, an underground nightclub and cultural hub in The Hague. Over the course of a rambling, open-ended conversation, the idea of making music together came up; a few weeks later, Trago travelled to van Lummel’s place – a former industrial unit that was now home to a rotating cast of artists and musicians – and didn’t leave for a month.

Cossetted away from the outside world in van Lummel’s loft, with multi-instrumentalists Janneke Nijhuijs and Wieger Hoogendorp joining them to create a musical four-piece, MEGA WEGA was born. Over the course of four weeks, the quartet embarked on an almost continuous creative session punctuated only by impromptu parties and mixing sessions. Life-long bonds were made and over 70 tracks recorded before the mundanity of day-to-day life came calling.

For one reason or another, the project never saw the light of day, with tracks sat gathering dust on hard drives for the best part of a decade. During the madness and loneliness of the COVID-19 pandemic, Trago rediscovered the tracks. Delighted by what he heard, a collective decision was made to add finishing touches and release the resultant album on van Lummel’s PIP Records imprint. Further instruments and vocals were added over two days at Hoogendorp’s studio, before mutual friend Tom Ruig got on board to mix the album.

So, what can you expect from Haunted, Mega Wega’s debut album? First and foremost, it’s the sound of pure creative expression – the distillation of a freewheeling, no-holds-barred, spontaneous musical journey variously inspired by the do-it-yourself ethos of musical counterculture, shared inspirations and influences, epic jam sessions, distant stars (Wega, sometimes known as Fidis or ‘the harp star’, is one of the brightest in the night sky), imaginary journeys across dusty deserts, and the comradeship of four new friends.

Enchanting and alluring, it’s an album that gleefully denies lazy categorization and ploughs its own eclectic, atmospheric musical furrow in vivid sonic detail. It’s a collective exploration of heady musical eclecticism unified by saucer-eyed vocals, low-slung bass, loose-limbed beats, sweaty percussion workouts and hazy electric piano motifs.

Haunted begins with the woozy and hallucinatory slow-burn soundscape of ‘Get Things Done’ – an effects laden shuffle akin to lying flat on your back tripping under an intense desert sun – and ends with the creepy, mind-mangling post-punk funk of ‘Brain Carpaccio’; in between, you’ll find spaced-out, low-tempo lo-fi soul (‘Move Around’, ‘Haunted’), tactile synth-powered boogie revivalism (‘Make Me Work’), deep and off-kilter opioid jazz (‘Copenhagen’), intoxicating psychedelia (‘Last Night on Earth’), piano-laden dream-pop epics (‘Shake Or Fall’), and Latin-infused, percussion-powered hedonism (‘Chopping Heads’).

Born out of spontaneous collaboration and immersive, almost endless recording sessions, Haunted is an album shot through with imagination and boundless energy, captured for posterity by four friends and collaborators at the top of their game.

More than a decade after the release of ´Land Lines', the mythical Humboldt County, California based duo of Brian Pyle and Merrick McKinlay reappears seemingly out of nowhere with 'Atheistsaregods'. With past releases on such cult-like labels as Root Strata, Weird Forest, Blackest Rainbow or Digitalis, Starving Weirdos were an indelible part of a sprawling and loose network of artists in Northern America whose DIY work ethic and extreme activity revolved around shoestring-budget constant touring, numerous limited editions on CDR, tape and vinyl and a relentless drive to push the boundaries of genre.

Out of that cauldron, Starving Weirdos stood out as one of the most persistent and visionary acts, developing a mind altering body of work that went from warm soundscapes through droney digressions, freeform improvisation and raucous noise summoned from a myriad of instrumentation and low budget processing - vocals, keyboards, violin, flute, percussion and an assortment of less identifiable sound sources. 10 years on their legacy remains a timeless and wildly under-appreciated one, but hopefully this new album will shine a light on their idiosyncratic approach. As time itself was never a constraint. This is music suspended outside of it.

Right from the start with the echoing percussion, dissonant keys and processed vocals of 'Haiku Nagasaki', 'Atheistsaregods' draws a continuous flux of psychedelic elevation that goes from the gloomy electronic motifs not unlike the early Cluster vibes of 'Invocation' into the dank percussive maze of the appropriately titled 'Barulho do Samba'. The self titled track induces a sense of post-apocalyptic vertigo via hallucinatory scraps of voice, suspended synth tones and reverberating field recordings, connecting into the droney mystics of 'Dudukahar (Reed Prayer)'. Coming full circle, 'For Vinny' brings back the echoing percussion amidst hypnotic cello lines until it drifts off into the unknown. With the same palpable sense of urgency, Starving Weirdos feel as vital as ever. And even if we didn't realize it we were in need of them. Welcome back.

Quoth is the brainchild of Alex Egan (Utter) and Mike Smaczylo (Half Edge). Singular in focus, this newly minted (sub)label harnesses the pair’s diverse and expansive tastes in weird and hallucinatory sonics, aimed squarely at the dancefloor. We're very proud to present ‘Barney’s Maze’, a four-track EP of twisted techno, drawing influence from IDM, bass, and older strains of textural music.

‘Barney’s Maze’ is the work of Nottingham producer Coralie (aka Steven Randall). It fell on our ears strangely dislocated from time and place. Its sound world is utterly modern, technical and weird; mangled sonics slip deftly out of reach of easy categorisation. But the spirits evoked feel ancient, spectral resonances of a psychedelic continuum older than memory.

Haunting voices predominate: human, not too human, but captured and distorted by technology, cut from any source of context and voided of meaning. The sonic spaces conjured here are cavernous; great cathedral-like structures resonating with the collapsed centuries of digital time. Broken techno rhythms roll echoing in an artificial void with synthetic voices, raised to synthetic heavens. Strains of the sacred glimmer within a form that’s entirely profane, the most human of constructs.

It’s a stunning EP - moody, atmospheric and gorgeous, each track a world unto itself, but fully primed for the dance. We recommend it wholeheartedly.

Coralie tells us it’s dedicated to his dog.

Available on hand stamped vinyl, limited to 200 copies (including insert), and digital formats. Mastered by Beau Thomas at Ten Eight Seven.

Sometimes it only takes a short getaway to the beach at the beginning of a new romance to open your heart to the wonders of the universe. On this record CV Vision taps into the ebb and flow of the sea, the cycle of coastal processes, and repositions the library sounds he’s mastered so well somewhere on the other side of the bay.

White noise washes like gentle waves up against analog synths and acoustic guitars, while the full spectrum of holiday possibilities are reflected: Surf’s Up (Let’s Trip) captures that roadtrip excitement, albeit with some psychedelic twist. But it’s not all sunshine - CV Vision makes sure to show the grey clouds too, with the sweet melancholy of Rainy Days.

Somewhere between dune rides and underwater dives, camp fires and sunsets, CV Vision captures a weekend at the beach in song. After a short moment of reflection (and some hallucinatory assistance), he wrote the lyrics and pieced the record together in the following weeks, to create what you see and hear now.

Instrumental interludes brush up against ballads and field recordings, to paint a wonderfully rich audio postcard from deep within CV Vision’s heart.

You have to wonder why Railcard took so long to be born: their debut album feels like it should have been in your collection for years.


But it wasn’t until 2025 that Rachel Love (Dolly Mixture), Ian Button and Peter Momtchiloff (both Heavenly) met at a gig, realised that they were exactly the same age, and decided that this was an excellent reason to form a new band. The shared history, the same pop references, the parallel lives… Railcard had to happen, and there was no time to lose. Two Steps At A Time - the album title and theme song - express exactly how quickly Railcard have worked since then - jumping over pavement cracks and whistling past graveyards to get these songs written, recorded and released while they are still sweet and fresh.


The band released three digital EPs in early 2026, which were then gathered onto a CD and released by Skep Wax and Slumberland. They sold out very quickly. The critical response to a mail-order-only CD was far greater than anyone expected.


Railcard made their live debut in December 2025 and had by then recruited their fourth member: Allison Thomson (Trash Can Sinatras, The Love Band), whose flawless trumpet and swirly keyboard-playing complete the Railcard sound, allowing the band to fulfil the significant ambition and range of the songs, which are mostly co-written and often co-sung by Love and Button. “Flannelette” and “Sunday Sun”, delicate and swoony, could almost be Slapp Happy at their most Bacharach. “Foxy”, mysterious and charming, has more than a hint of Kate Bush December magic. The raucous duet “I’m A Disaster” is The Kinks meets deadpan Shangri-Las. The title track could have been an alternative theme tune for Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads. “Runaround” is like a school choir doing The Raincoats. “Unstable Neighbour” is mesmerising and insistent: it might make you think of Stereolab; we might imagine an indiepop Hawkwind. Peter Momtchiloff also contributes two wonderful songs on the album: the fragile and hallucinatory “Paper Thin” and the Love-meets-Undertones rush of “Hillman Minx”.


As with the first EPs, Railcard enlisted the sonic services of Medway psych expert Allan Crockford (of The Prisoners, James Taylor Quartet and many more) who has delivered mixes that pump with vintage valve energy and reverby depth.


Railcard have a string of UK dates through the summer and Autumn.