Search:its not over

ATA00BS will be released in a Number Stamped Edition, with Full Cover Art made by Pepe and will be Sealed / Shrinkwrapped.

'Keep it simple' 103636;"Reissue- Tracklist A1. Unknown A2. Pain Is Full B1. Damaged Memory B2. Damaged Memory ( Iori Remix ) Shortinfo: Roberto Bosco has selected Kiny's music to better prepare his first 12, consisting of four tracks, named 'Damaged Memory'.The track Unknown (A1) leads off the dance of the release on Last Drop Records imprint. It's a proper exploration in an unknown sonic territory to most of the people, and also a difficult element to make out for those who are novice to the visonary component in the musical poetic of Kiny. The track starts with rounds of recurring sirens, almost deafening, framed by dark and ghostly noises. Something not easily identifiable, ambiguous and unknown, as the title itself says, is perceptible in its sound. All this helps to shape a bad presage that fades away into the mystery. On the same side we find Pain Is Full (A2) that, according to the producer, was born in a moment of pain which can be overcome only by fighting. In fact, the track is characterized by a more combative and insistent tone, made up by the sound of snare and tom entering since the start and determining an atmosphere of contrast able to shake the listener until the end. Shouts of encouragement suggest an initiation rite in which there is struggle for survival. The titletrack, Damaged Memory (B1) has more quiet register with less ghostly vocals, perceived at times, unlike the previous tracks. The sounds have a vanished effect, such as when you create a halo on a white sheet with the dust of a pencil just sharpened. You will hear a sort of democracy among the sounds held together by the voice, a metaphor of a damaged memory, as the title itself recite, that always makes the same process till the end: it commences by recalling but then forgets. Last, is the version of the producer Iori, Damaged Memory (B2), on the same side.

Mining the rich seam between transcendental escapism and crushing physical pressure, Sciama delivers his first album for Samurai Music. Exploring an energetic pitch between half-time and full-tilt 170, the London-based producer sculpts brooding soundscapes of sheer peaks and deep pits, driven by unrelenting but light-footed forward motion and an imposing strain of sound design. As Sciama, Michael Watters has been marking out his exacting sound since 2019 with an assured run of albums on ASC's Auxiliary label. His second EP for Samurai — the Wave Interaction 12" released earlier this year — pointed to his current area of focus inspired by the teachings of electronic music pioneer Daphne Oram. Contemplating the relationship between precise electronic frequencies and human perception, Celetal Form now delivers the full findings of his exploration. Oram coined the term 'celetal' in her 1972 book An Individual Note of Music, Sound and Electronics, trying to sum up a connection between the celestial and electrical. It's this spiritual dimension contained within sound waves Watters is concerned with, and the shape of the music on Celetal Form follows suit. In an opening statement of abyssal ambience, 'Overload Into Silence' establishes an atmosphere that endures throughout the album. Caught between steely textures, vaporous reverb tails and subtle harmonic interactions, the glacial shift of the many layers under Watters' control reveals an intense amount of detail at play even before drums and bass come into play. From there on in, the intensity ramps up from one heavyweight stepper to the next. There is agile, brittle top-end percussion at work on the likes of 'Induced Resonance' and 'Consuming Pulse', perhaps the most closely connected to D&B, while 'Rational Echoes' and 'Scanning Waveband' deal in urgency and techno-coded tension. A half-time roll guides the huge kick drum undulations of 'No Panacea', and 'Celetal Emergence' opens up into more spacious surroundings to let the subtle microtonal inflections of the synth tones set a curious mood. The two 'Intermodulation' tracks bring Watters' exacting approach into sharp focus, pushing the drums back and foregrounding alien frequencies that coalesce into unfamiliar yet strangely uplifting forms. Throughout Celetal Form this uncanny sensation charges the music with a power that reaches beyond its immediate, surface level impact. This intentional reflection on Oram's visionary thinking charges the current sound of Sciama with energetic intrigue that stands apart and invites a mindful, maybe even spiritual, engagement.

A time in passing, a time of note. A release created in a moment of profound fondness, within a studio front of memory. A detour delivered to and released on Entered Records via the Zodiacs way of life. Jesse You is here to create the doorway of sound via his 4 tracks of driving psycho players.

Opening the release with Violet Expander a track driven with keys of suspense and basslines for the feet. Rudolf C’s V.E mechanical overhaul remix then hits with the peak funk head melt.

On the Bs a deeper journey tact is delivered through Sorti. A similar drive and suspense yet with a delicate melodic role. Final track Planet Malfunction is exactly that, a wobbly circular loop double backing on itself for the collision of sound, ultimately that malfunction.

A release that takes you on the detour you didn’t know was coming.

180g Heavy double vinyl LP with liner notes by Tyran Grillo. Limited Japanese Obi for the first pressing. Original artwork by Russell Mills and photography by Jean-Baptiste Mondino.

The third Time Capsule is a body of dub reinterpretations by celebrated producer Bill Laswell of Ethiopian singer Gigi. Curated by Tokyo record collector, music researcher and seasoned reissue supervisor Ken Hidaka, it is the first time Illuminated Audio is pressed to vinyl after its CD release in 2003.

Ejigayehu Shibabaw was born in 1974 in Chagni, northwestern Ethiopia and by pursuing a career as a singer, went against her father’s strict, traditional gender roles. As Gigi, she embraced the same musical freedom she had strived for in her personal life, incorporating the Ethiopian church, funk, hip-hop, West and South African music into her work. She first settled in Nairobi, then Addis Ababa, where she quickly established herself as one of the city’s leading singers. A move to San Francisco in 1998 led to a long and fruitful creative partnership with bassist and producer Bill Laswell.

Around the same time, Chris Blackwell had stepped away from Island Records to start the art house film company and label Palm Pictures. He took an interest in Gigi and together with Laswell, pulled together an all-star cast of musicians for her self-titled US debut album, including Herbie Hancock, Pharoah Sanders and Wayne Shorter. It won international critical acclaim, not just for its musicianship but for making Gigi a “defining voice for the Ethiopian expatriate community”, as journalist Tyran Grillo praises in his Time Capsule liner notes. From the nation-defining 1896 victory over Italian invaders to the quiet revolutionaries who wear simple shemma garments, Grillo believes the themes in Gigi make it “a shower of sunlight on her homeland for those ignorant of its struggles.”

After its success, Blackwell encouraged them to go back into the studio to rethink the album and Illuminated Audio was born. “Anyone can make a voice sound worldly”, Grillo remarks, “but rare are those who can make one sound inner-worldly.” Gigi was clear with Laswell to give her vocals a minor role “because it’s already been done.” Instead her Amharic verse is fleeting, exhaling through the textures like ghostly fragments; soaring yet muted. Yet the album is still titled under her name, an assertion by Laswell of her central role in the album’s creation. Not only was it a fully endorsed project by Gigi, but she would be present throughout its development, giving feedback on half-finished ideas as Laswell played them back in the studio. “It works perfectly”, she reflected after the album’s release. “We wanted to capture the whole spirit of each track, and Bill’s remixes create a different music language that really puts you in a pleasant place”.

This new vocabulary takes its lead from a technical approach that Laswell had been perfecting during a furtive creative period at the turn of the millennium. Much like his ambient interpretations of Miles Davis (Panthalassa, 1998), Bob Marley (Dreams of Freedom, 1997), and Carlos Santana (Divine Light, 2001), Laswell approached Illuminated Audio by returning to the original multitrack masters. Gigi wasn’t just reworked, but recomposed into an expansive lattice of instruments, submerged in a watery ambience of dub and trance undercurrents.

Sonically, this new language that Gigi refers to, is manifested by the original album’s more understated parts being pushed to the fore. Explaining his contrasting methods, Laswell saw Gigi as being “put together in a way that fits”. Contrastingly, in Illuminated Audio, “a lot of things that I featured in the remix weren’t as audible in the original.” Instrumentation laying near-dormant, deep in the mix, are brought to the fore: the acid rock guitar and Wayne Shorter’s saxophone on ‘Tew Ante Sew’, Graham Haynes’ flugelhorn on ‘Nafekeñ’, Laswell’s bass on ‘Kahn’, the melodica in Mengedegna or the floating synths and talking drums in ‘Gud Fella’.

Brought to his attention by mentor DJ Nori, Hidaka describes Illuminated Audio as a “masterful sonic exploration into ethereal ambience and dub” and made sure this reissue also contained a full remaster to give its “deep musicality” much better dynamics and density in the overall sound. Hidaka admits that Laswell's music “is sometimes so out-there, it is often misunderstood” and, indeed, to dub album non-believers this might seem like a prolific producer imposing himself on another artist’s work; eternally developing rearrangements that never quite get to its destination. But that’s missing its true power and triumph. This is more than the reissue of a remix, but “a wholly unique musical entity”, as Hidaka describes. Illuminated Audio refers to the illuminated manuscripts that comprise the major part of Ethiopian art and its new compositions stand in proud solitude as a rare body of reworks that both informs and enhances their originals.

Often credited as the father of multi-media theatre, Alwin Nikolais (1910-1993) took complete creative control over his productions - including cutting-edge approaches to lighting and costume that transformed human bodies into shifting sculptural shapes, while also composing wildly innovative electro-acoustic and synth-based audio as accompaniment.

After initially experimenting with musique concrète and tape manipulation (as demonstrated on the 1959 LP Choreosonic Music of the New Dance Theatre of Alwin Nikolais) Nikolais became the first owner of Robert Moog's synthesizer at the Audio Engineering Society convention in New York in late 1964. Relying heavily on the Moog and later the Synclavier synth/sampler, these 21 tracks document Nikolais' highly-prescient compositions across the mid 1960s through to the late 1980s - existing not only as extensions of his other-worldly choreographic productions, but standalone pieces of foundational mid-century American electronic and experimental music.

"Born in Southington, Connecticut in 1910, Nikolais’s early years and early career were in acting, music and puppetry. It was not until the late 1930s that he began his work as dancer/choreographer in Hartford, Connecticut, where he was commissioned by the Avery Memorial Theatre, a part of the Wadsworth Atheneum, to create an evening-length work to the music of Ernst Krenek. Previously his work and study as a pianist-organist found him accompanying silent films. This sort of accompaniment required from the musician not only a playing skill but also a versatility in improvisation, matching movement to sound, and evoking mood to situation.

Nik was drawn initially to dance by his involvement with the percussion scores used by the illustrious early twentieth century German dancer Mary Wigman. In trying to learn more about percussion, he was lured into dance class and thus his career began. His development of music and dance occurred simultaneously. His introduction to the twelve-tone technique opened his mind to the expanding areas of atonal music, and his dealing with music as sound per se. In 1948, after being appointed director of the Henry Street Playhouse in New York, Nikolais formed the Playhouse Dance Company, later known as the Nikolais Dance Theater, and began his aesthetic orientation toward dance as a study of motion. By the 1950s, he had ceased creating literal dances and began his explorations and eventual milieu as an abstractionist.

Sound became an important part of his abstract theatre. For his first dances, which involved his new thinking of dance as both a visual and kinetic art, he used live percussion scores in which he directed his dancers to play instruments of all nature. There was a combination of children’s toy instruments as well as harsh and resonant automobile brake drums, and other pitched auto parts which he also used to accompany classes. Once he installed his own tape recording machines, he quickly used the limited range these instruments provided in a new way, slowing and increasing speed and reversing sound. He also made the sounds adhere to the choreographic structure (not the other way around), thereby giving the dance its independence from the musical phrasing. But the real need remained: the search for new sound. Nik made a sound library, recording noises and percussion and vocal sounds, which the French aptly called musique concrète. Needless to say, he became a master at splicing bits and pieces.

From 1956 to 1962 Nikolais composed eleven major scores for his theatre pieces using such techniques. In 1963, James Seawright, who at the time was assisting Nik in his productions and also working at the Columbia-Princeton Center for Electronic Music, recorded a sound bank for the production Imago (1963). With this material, Nikolais created his first synthesizer score. Imago won the Paris Grand Prix in 1968 and launched the Nikolais Dance Theatre towards its national and primarily international acclaim.

During the same period, Seawright came to Nik and told him of a young man who had invented and constructed a simplified synthesizer and insisted that Nik visit the electronic fair currently being held in New York. Nik did so and met Robert Moog. He was completely taken by the new machine and after making some suggestions to Moog, (which Moog made), Nik bought the inventor’s first machine with the aid of a Guggenheim Fellowship. Moog himself was astonished by what his machine could produce for Nik. This machine was later acquired by the Museum of Musical Instruments at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor as the first Moog synthesizer. The Synclavier was Nik’s next source of sound and since the mid-1970s remained the major instrument in the Nikolais soundroom.

Alwin Nikolais has been honored and awarded throughout the world. He has received the French Legion of Honor, the Kennedy Center Honors, National Medal of the Arts, two Guggenheim Fellowships, as well as Mellon, Ford, and Rockefeller grants. He has been a recipient of NEA grants since 1966, been awarded five honorary doctorates, all for his remarkable achievements in Dance Theater. His genius has influenced several generations of artists."
—Murray Louis

Djrum's first release since 2019, the Meaning’s Edge EP is an introduction to a whole new world. For the artist also known as Felix Manuel, it was created in the final stretches of six rather traumatic years work. Having carefully honed his techniques and aesthetics, and learned some hard-won emotional lessons over this time, finally he began to work in a quicker, lighter fashion – and to cleanse his palate a little by bringing in a fresh ingredient: his own flute playing. For listeners, though, it will serve as an appetiser, a way into the delights and complexities of this new phase of his creativity.

It’s a serious work in its own right, mind. The use of flutes – including Bansuri, Shakuhatchi, Western Classical, and synthesised all blending and blurring into one another – gives it a coherence and a sense of airiness that unites the five tracks over half an hour, however divergent their beats get. And as in all his music, Felix’s whole life is in here. Ethnomusicology studies, untold hours of DJing everywhere from the gnarliest squat raves to the most rarefied deep house clubs, explorations of his own neurological and emotional makeup, and the technical finesse of someone who is never not creating music or art, all roll into an experience that’s dazzling, delightful and keeps on giving.

Just the opening track ‘Codex’ alone touches on OG dubstep, Aphex Twin-like braindance, post-classical exploration, movie themes and more. The gentle tones and melodies that rise up out of it perfectly conjure Felix’s running theme of a protective bubble that provides a sense of safety and tranquillity even as the beats and acid gurgles and spurts all around it conjure up the slings and arrows of life’s difficulties.

The tone set, the EP moves through ultra-rarefied glass-like percussion in an almost ambient setting, hints of grime’s counterintuitive patterns, and even more hectic patterns influenced by Tanzania’s hyperspeed singeli style of dance music – but always with that perfect balance of chaos and control, unpredictability and protection. It rewards playing and replaying endlessly, it’s a profound and often joyous experience… and it’s only just the beginning. This is the return of a master craftsperson more focused than ever on his vision and vocation and ready to blow your mind all over again.

Mastered and cut on 140g black vinyl by legendary mastering engineer Matt Colton at Metropolis Studios, London. Pressed at optimal media, Germany.

Joe Fujinoki centered the compositions of his latest album Glass Torso round the idea of the fragility of the human body. Fujinoki described the narrative thread of the album as that of “holding the shape of a human body as if it might shatter like glass”. The precariousness of the body, the essence of the body as defined by Fujinoki as the torso, and the object relations between the boundaries of dialectical exercises pack themselves into his creative process.

Fujinoki recorded Glass Torso exclusively with analog synthesizers, stumbling in and out of structural loops to find space for accidental discoveries. The ten pieces of recorded material feel somewhere on the edge of typified form, feeling like a vascular system pumping in and out its undulating liquidities. Maybe this is the hollowed space held together by Fujinoki’s notion of the torso where you hear a microscopic world, dubby and generative. Fujinoki is adept at organizing this realm of subtle sound sources, giving proper considerations of shared tonal space. Seemingly, this handling of the precarity of sonic material elucidates Fujinoki’s mature attention to detail.

Ambient music genre tropes often affirm the listeners vessel for escape and dissociation. It provides an intoxicating allure by respite from an overwhelming exterior reality far outside the listeners controls. Here this space becomes apolitical, or its protest vocabulary softer and subtle. Fujinoki does not aim to tackle hyperobject topics on how to course correct the world, but he does something increasingly rarer to come across. On Glass Torso an alternative space is created not as shelter, but as a meditation on negotiation and compromise. This twenty eight minutes of audio lays down a foundation for imagination, for imagining how to negotiate the fragility of the self. Zoomed out, the implications of his negotiative sonics can be a playground for broader reflections on distributive care and attention.

Fujinoki says he feels “alert” to his physicality and placement in the world amidst vast digital cultures creating impositions on him and his surroundings. On Glass Torso he creates a concretized space on a vinyl record, where the virtual and the tangible antagonize one another that create the spectacle of the listening experience. This spectacle is a soft one, a considered one, and an utmost enjoyable one. Fujinoki juggles opposing forces brilliantly, and formulates an exquisite palette of soft passing music so he can also help the listener with the exquisite burden of their own Glass Torso.”

- Nick Klein, January 2026

'Double Seven, released by Trojan in late 1973, was the last album Lee 'Scratch' Perry would release on the label for some considerable time, and it was essentially the final album project he put together before establishing his own Black Ark studio. Opening track 'Kentucky Skank' sets the tone with a slow creeper whose frying sounds underscore its role as a praise song to the Colonel's KFC recipes; the cosmic Moog blips come courtesy of Ken Elliott at Camden's Chalk Farm studio, also prominently featured on U-Roy's double-tracked, stereo-panned gambling ode 'Double Six.' David Isaacs' 'Just Enough' was cut a few years prior, which makes it slightly out of phase with the rest of the set, though the enigmatic 'In The Iaah' sounds mightily fresh, with its uncredited chorus said to come courtesy of the Wailers. Perry's own 'Jungle Lion' has hilarious roars from the maestro at the start, strangely grafted atop a reggae re-make of Al Green's 'Love and Happiness.'

'Overall, Double Seven melds the soul, funk, reggae and dub elements that were constant in Perry's work during this phase. His enhanced audio spectrum and endless reference points would keep his music continually apart from that made by his peers.'
—David Katz (excerpt from the liner notes)

When the first JIM album Love Makes Magic was released in 2023, it was the end product of an experiment that had begun during the strange days of the pandemic. Cooped up in his studio, James Baron started fiddling about with an as-yet unnamed new album idea. It became Vicious Charm’s first LP release. Labelled variously as Balearic, folktronica, blue-eyed soul and Laurel Canyon, Love Makes Magic was perhaps all and none of those things: a record rooted less in Californian mythology than in Baron’s own musical world, somewhere between Sherwood, Nottingham, classic songwriting, electronic soul and the no-nonsense good times that have long run through his work under his other monikers (principally the anagrammatic Ron Basejam and, of course, Crazy P) One thing was indisputable, it connected with people... and still does.

The album was a minor hit, appearing in many a Best of 2023 chart and voted Album of the Year in Bill Brewster’s Furtive 50. A tour and a few memorable festival appearances – his 2024 We Out Here Festival being one of those wonderfully timed ‘moments’ - perfectly captured the horizontal vibes on the album, while injecting some live energy into its delivery. While there was a follow-up remix album for Love Makes Magic, JIM was already preparing a sophomore LP: “I wrote the majority of The Curious Case Of Existence in a couple of months at the beginning of 2024, then it was just a case of making the record over the next couple of years in between everything else.”

Dire Straits' arresting self-titled debut arrived in the midst of punk's reign but couldn't have been further removed from the era's slash-and-burn style. Recorded in West London in February 1978, the band's tasteful, jazz-inflected set embraces folk, blues, and pub rock while also tracing a direct line back to the beat-oriented sound of early rock n' roll. Country and roots accents further distinguish the British quartet's stripped-down music from any 1970s peers, as does the transparent production, which has remained revered among audiophiles the world over – and which has never been better than on this meticulous pressing.

Mastered from the original master tapes and pressed at RTI, Mobile Fidelity's 180g 45RPM 2LP version of Dire Straits features natural tonalities, superb balances, you-are-there imaging, deep-black backgrounds, and pristine clarity. Even if you've heard this album hundreds of times before, you've never experienced it with such lifelike sonics and premium richness. This numbered-edition collector's set immerses you within the smoky, laidback atmospherics of every song. This is how all vinyl should sound.

Crucial to every arrangement, Mark Knopfler's winding guitar lines emerge with supreme transparency and multi-hued textural detail. His intricate playing comes across as if it's being transmitted via his 60s-era Fender Vibrolux amplifier placed right before you. The cleanliness, dimensions, and live feel are that good. His bandmates, too, benefit from the extra groove space afforded by this 45RPM edition. Rhythms skate and swirl; percussive effects resonate with crispness and attack; the leading edges of notes naturally decay.

Dire Straits' strong, well-edited batch of original material further enhances the overall enjoyment and makes the record one whose pleasures go far beyond the organic sonics. Just as Knopfler's narratives pour forth with poetic and surrealist texts, the musical settings – an intoxicating combination of easygoing shuffles, back-hall boogies, and pop-honed ballads – mirror the old-fashioned soulfulness inherent in the classic recordings of the late 50s and early 60s. The lyrics are equally captivating.

Drawing from his time as a youth in Newcastle, Leeds, and London, Knopfler invests tunes with an autobiographical slant and emotional connectivity that become obvious the moment he opens his mouth to sing. "Down to the Waterline," "Wild West End," and "Lions" all feature colloquial touches that add to their reach. By extension, "In the Gallery" functions as a tribute to Leeds sculptor Harry Phillips (father of future Knoplfer collaborator, Steve Phillips) while the record's breakout smash, "Sultans of Swing," pays homage to struggling bar bands.


Through it all, Dire Straits performs with a subtle cool and clever poise that no band ever matched. Just how good is the chemistry? Bob Dylan heard the quartet and invited Knopfler and drummer Pick Withers to play on Slow Train Coming. But even Dylan himself didn't hear Dire Straits sound this magnetic back in its original heyday. Now, everyone can.

Pleasurewood return with 'Electric Telepathy', their second full-length LP offering Simla Space Funk, Psych-Library and Vintage-Cinematic Raga-Rock grooves.

This new offering from the band embraces more of their vintage Hindi Cinema soundtrack influences — "Chump Change", "The Hoverfly" and "RAMMM" could easily fit into the middle of an R.D. Burman score, each with their incongruous synthesis of different genres, infectious percussion, classical modes and funk chops.

There is also a slight sweep across a too-slow-to-disco tempo and feel with the moody Johnny Guitar Watson-esque slow burn of "Good Falcon" up to the nonchalant four-to-the-floor of "Last Dance Saloon" with its lyrical warning of digital over-saturation in our social-media saturated world and a foreboding of the mini-monoliths sat in the palms of our hands that in a Kubrickian way threaten to cosmically absorb us all as a species into their individual jet-black abysses.

And then, coming into focus like a sweet slice of disjointed, lo-fi, 8 bit space disco, "Mojave Desert" is a slacker-strut with telephone vocals dub guitars, dry cosmic synths and futurist Farfisa organ driven by an almost Acid-Jazz meets Post-Punk Bass line. The song is autobiographical in its account of an excursion along the 29 Palms Highway reflecting on an escape from the City of Angels not so far away, up into the stark psychedelic desert realm.

There is a lot to unpack in this record and yet more to discover so it will be best to allocate 40 minutes in a comfortable dimly-lit room with eyes closed and maybe a cognac in hand, to have a deep-dive into its well-travelled and esoterically funky grooves.

Acclaimed, Swedish composer, producer and live artist Sebastian Mullaert, and Georgian electronic artist Tamarma (Tamara Davitashvili), are set to release the deeply personal and genre-fluid album ‘Holds the Sky’ on the 25th September via Awesome Soundwave, the label curated by Christopher Coe and Carl Cox.

Spanning ambient, experimental and alternative electronic forms, alongside a set of dancefloor-oriented reworks that expand the project’s sonic spectrum, at its core, the album is the result of an unusual artistic convergence that traces back to 2020. Tamarma entered Mullaert’s successful In Bloom mentorship programme on a scholarship, and over a year-long deep exploration of album creation, her work revealed a rare clarity and emotional depth.

One piece in particular became the catalyst. Developed further through Mullaert’s 4 step studio process, it unfolded into a full length album collaboration. What began as a single composition has since grown into an album that documents an organic and intuitive exchange between two distinct artistic voices.

The result is less a collection of tracks than a continuous unfolding; a dialogue shaped by trust, listening and shared curiosity. Rather than aiming for a fixed genre position, the album operates as a living process: a meeting point between tradition and experimentation, between voice and synthesis, between two artists allowing something larger to emerge through their collaboration.

With compositions such as the chiming ‘Being Colours’ and hypnotic ‘Holds The Sky,’ Mullaert and Tamarma have created a body of work that resists easy categorization. The album moves through intimate, meditative passages and more rhythmically driven moments, always anchored in a sense of presence and emotional immediacy. The flickering beats of ‘Winnow’ and ambient manifestations of ‘Lost In Dimension’ and ‘Field of Us’ add a sense of tranquillity, stillness and convergence.

Tamarma’s voice carries both a personal and cultural depth throughout the album, while remaining fluid and responsive to the moment. The result is a sound that feels both intimate and spatial, where voice, texture and atmosphere are closely connected. Her Georgian musical heritage combined with Mullaert’s open-ended electronic exploration, allows something beautiful to emerge, shaped by listening, space and a sense of something larger than either artist alone.

Widely celebrated in the electronic music community, Mullaert has spent the last three decades moving beyond the boundaries of electronic music, from shaping the sound of cult duo Minilogue to creating the fully improvised global platform, Circle of Live, which has seen him perform and collaborate with artists such as Mathew Jonson, Âme, Amp Fiddler, Aurora Halal, Speedy J, Sam Barker, Dorisburg, Move D, Sleep D, Kuniyuki, Pantha du Prince, Leafar Legov, Wayne Snow, Laurence Guy, VRIL, Neel and Erika.

Initially making a name for himself in the world of techno, his performances have moved fluidly between environments, from underground spaces including Berghain’s Panorama Bar to festivals around the world, and venues including the Barbican, London, where he has appeared alongside artists including Joep Beving, Laura Misch and JakoJako. Platforms such as ARTE have featured his performances, placing his work within a broader European cultural context, while support from Resident Advisor and Boiler Room reflect his continued presence within the core of electronic music culture. He has received a Swedish Grammy and the P3 Guld award from Swedish National Radio.

His 2020 album ‘Natthall,’ developed in collaboration with Tonhalle Orchestra Zürich and performed with Subchamber Ensemble, saw Mullaert enter the world of contemporary composition, and merged electronics with chamber music and improvisation. The album was later named among the top post classical releases of the year by BBC Music Magazine.

A new documentary film by Ableton, set for release this summer, captures Mullaert’s Circle of Live project through a performance at Brighton Dome in the UK, featuring Mullaert and electronic artists Clark and Rival Consoles. The film offers a rare insight into the inner workings of collective improvisation at a high artistic level, further cementing Mullaert’s role as a leading voice in contemporary live electronic practice.

Tamara's background is rooted in the landscapes and traditions of Georgia. Raised near the Caucasus Mountains, classically trained in piano and shaped by years as a jazz vocalist, her work carries traces of Georgian polyphonic singing and a strong connection to nature and place. Her transition into electronic music is not stylistic but transformational; a recontextualisation of heritage into new sonic forms.

‘Holds The Sky’ will be available on vinyl and digitally on the 25th September via Awesome Soundwave. The digital release includes three exclusive album track reworks from Mullaert.

On her first Harmony Index album, multi-instrumentalist and producer Nico Leibman spotlights the feelings that are most difficult to express, bringing out the friction between her dreamy hooks and harsher sonics. Written almost like a DJ set, the album shifts intentionally between piano-led trip-hop, lounge, dream pop, 2-step and breakbeat house, not languishing in nostalgia but defining a language that's rooted in desire, surrender and forward motion.

Until now, Leibman has been best known as a touring musician, working alongside artists like Jessica Pratt and Ana Roxanne, while slowly putting together new solo material in-between frequent tours. The album was written in bursts over the course of five long years and provided Leibman with a much-needed outlet - a chance for her to lock into her personal musical preoccupations, like Janet Jackson's 'The Velvet Rope', Everything but the Girl's 'Walking Wounded' and Prefab Sprout's 'Jordan: The Comeback'.

It's this era of pop - when nascent technology collided at force with skillful, soulful songwriting - that provides the album's backbone, fleshed out by Leibman's potent meditations on a spectrum of experiences in Los Angeles. And as the record was evolving, Leibman let long night drives crack her creative world open. Embracing the city's notoriously cinematic romantic side, she used the car as a "little chamber of limerence," in her own words, enabling her fantasies and acting as a test system for each song. "If it wasn't hitting in the car," she says. "It wasn't going to be on the record, period."

This sense of motion is evident almost immediately on 'Recognize', when Leibman's breathy words are carried into the night by choppy, uptempo breaks and resonant pads. So even when she simply coos over chugging guitars and bass on the first half of 'Enough', the drop into a low-slung breakbeat is implied. "Another digression, a break in this tension," she sings. "Was I foolish to believe that this was never your intention?" Leibman's tales of disillusionment are imbued with power, buoyed by her pitch-perfect production, with additional help from co-producer Cesar Maria.

On 'Don't Pretend', she sings softly and soulfully over decelerated Timbaland-inspired beats and a dubwise bassline, aided by additional production from Purelink. And 'If' marks the point where she lets go, infusing her euphoria with melancholy as her voice soars alongside the album's most infectious piano riff. Fittingly, the album concludes with 'Trust', a song about surrendering to the possibilities of love that works as a potent metaphor for the album's evolution. Over the course of five years, Leibman learned to let people in, finally trusting the process. "It's also a fantasy of what it would feel like to finally be in love again," she laughs, accepting that it's still just a fantasy. But it's this hope in unfulfilled longing that gives the album its unique character, defining a bold, unguarded voice in LA's experimental pop landscape.

Teal return on October 2 with Love Comes Thru, the trio's nine-track debut album. Expanding their emotionally resonant blend of downtempo trip-pop, the record reaches into street soul, dub, and experimental grooves, marking a confident new chapter for the group.

At its core, Love Comes Thru is a reflection on the quiet strength of love—not through grand gestures, but through the steady presence that carries us through uncertainty, change, and connection. Written over the course of a year of bi-coastal collaboration, the album became a testament to the bond Teal share as artists, friends, and family.

From the lush synth landscapes of "Aries Moon" to the footwork-inspired pulse of "Time Is Blind," the album explores themes of patience, vulnerability, longing, and intimacy. Standout singles "Kissing in a Dream" and the title track lean into left-field street soul, while stripped-back, 808-driven tracks like "Change Your Mind" and "Anomaly" demonstrate the power of restraint without sacrificing momentum. Building on the group's love of ambient improvisation, Love Comes Thru also features instrumental pieces with percussion by Brandon Valdivia (Mas Aya/Lido Pimienta).

The album closes with the sensual "Bubbling," bringing the journey full circle with a reminder that love ultimately comes through in its most embodied, physical form. Love Comes Thru is presented in a deluxe, limited-edition matte-finish, double-embossed jacket with a printed inner sleeve. Available on LP and digitally through Rubadub, In Sheep's Clothing, and Forced Exposure beginning October 2.

The latest release from Rainbow Disco Club’s label imprint, Beyond Space And Time, is the debut compilation from The Melting Hours, a live project by Wata Igarashi and Kuniyuki. WataIgarashi continues to make his mark on the history of techno, whilst Kuniyuki has long been revered as one of Sapporo’s greatest treasures. The two artists, who have long held mutual respect for one another, met whilst performing at the Draaimolen Festival 2025, and this encounter gave rise to The Melting Hours.

‘Blue Sun’ is imbued with a freshness reminiscent of the ambient jazz masterpieces released by prestigious labels such as ECM and Windham Hill. ‘Liquid Dunes’ sees the organic tones of the flute and percussion melt into over ten minutes of abstract sound textures, whilst the breathtaking ‘Cloud Touch’ awakens amidst a swirling vortex of pulsating downbeats and arpeggios. It is said that ‘Blue Sun’ was created by reconstructing studio rehearsal recordings, whilst ‘Liquid Dunes’ and ‘Cloud Touch’ were crafted from live recordings at Draaimolen 2025. The essence of these works—and indeed of the project The Melting Hours itself—lies at the heart of their improvisational nature.

It brings to mind the Rainbow Disco Club event back in 2026, where they wove their sounds amidst fresh greenery and surrounded by listeners under a clear blue sky. It felt as though the pulsating energy was spreading across the dance floor, guided by a session from The Melting Hours that seemed almost like a living creature. The organic breath one senses in this work not only evokes precisely that scene but also allows us to feel the unique, ephemeral nature inherent in this project—and, consequently, the boundless possibilities that stem from it.

Rainbow Disco Club のレーベル・ライン'Beyond Space And Time'から放たれる最新作は、Wata IgarashiとKuniyukiによるライブ・プロジェクト、The Melting Hoursによる初の音源集だ。テクノ史に残る実績を現在進行形で刻み続けているWata Igarashi、長きに渡り札幌の至宝として尊敬を集めてきたKuniyuki。兼ねてよりリスペクトを送り合ってきた両名がDraaimolen Festival 2025への出演を契機に邂逅し、始動したプロジェクトがThe Melting Hoursである。

ECMやWindham Hillといった名門レーベルのアンビエント・ジャズ傑作群を彷彿とさせる瑞々しさを湛えた"Blue Sun"。10分以上に渡るアブストラクトなサウンド・テクスチャーの中にフルートや鳴り物のオーガニックな音色が溶ける"Liquid Dunes"と、そして鳴動するダウンビートとアルペジオの渦に覚醒する圧巻の"Cloud Touch"。"Blue Sun"はスタジオでのリハーサル音源を、"Liquid Dunes"と"Cloud Touch"はDraaimolen 2025のライヴ音源を、それぞれ再構築し楽曲化したものだという。これらの作品、ひいてはThe Melting Hoursというプロジェクト自体のエッセンスは、その即興性を核としている。

WataとKuniyukiがゼロから音を立ち上げ、お互いのエレクトロニクス/生楽器を操る技術、それぞれエレクトロニック・ミュージック以前にフリージャズやニューウェイヴ/インダストリアル等に傾倒した時期を含む、音楽家としての半生を持ち出し合う感覚。そこに、例えばDraaimolen出演時に降り出した雨や、リハーサル時にスタジオに迷い込んだ蜂のような、外的かつ偶発的な要因、感情やムードの起伏までもが絡み合う様相。互いの予想を越えるスリルの中で曲が形づくられるプロセスこそが、この作品とプロジェクトを特別なものとしているのだという。

快晴の元で新緑とリスナーに囲まれ音を紡いでいった、去る2026年のRainbow Disco Clubを思い出す。まるで、生き物のようなThe Melting Hoursによるセッションに導かれ、脈動するエネルギーがフロアに伝播していたようだった。この作品から感じられる有機的な息遣いは、まさにそんな情景を思い起こすものであると同時に...このプロジェクトが宿すその場/その時限りの唯一無二性と、それ故に広がっていく限りない可能性をも感じさせてくれる。

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Beneath the sleek, confident guitar line that powers “Overdrive,” the lead single of All Over You, another guitar marks the time more impatiently, as if the groove its locked into is the timebomb- tightness of a pre-hookup heartbeat. Its energy isn’t nervous — after all, it’s hard to be nervous with Will Schwartz cooing come-ons like “I just wanna get you in the bed / Light you up like a cigarette” in your ear — but it is urgent. Excited. Titillated.


That’s the word that best describes the prospect of a new Imperial Teen record: titillating. They come out every five or six years, each new album acting as, to quote Roddy Bottum, “an episodic piece of where we are now, where the world is now, who we have become, and the geography of our collective consciousness.” There is considerable distance between Imperial Teen, its members — Bottum (guitars, keyboards, vocals), Schwartz (vocals, guitars, keyboards), Jone Stebbins (bass, vocals), and Lynn Truell (drums, vocals) — having made lives for themselves in different cities, but the collective consciousness that exists between them makes distance and time seem immaterial to the listener.


Time, especially time together, is not immaterial to Imperial Teen: it is precious. “For the last few records,” Stebbins explains, “the process has been similar. We live great distances away from each other, so initially, we get together to collaborate, write, and create. When we have enough material, we reconvene to record. Both scenarios, creating and recording, take multiple trips, sometimes with big lapses of time in between due to our various schedules.” Bottum concurs: “The biggest challenge in writing and recording is the distance between us, but the longing and desire and the ultimate coming together becomes more potent as a result.”


All Over You is a triumph of maximized moments together, four people bringing the force of their personalities to bear on years of built-up ideas. Title track “All Over You,” initially built over the computer, gained its charming sneer in the studio, where Stebbins’ buoyant, fuzzed out bassline added bounce to the song’s punchy, sloganeering lyrics, a perfect set-up for Truell to drive the song home, screaming the last line of the chorus, “We’ve got nothing to do,” like a rallying cry for a generation that’s been given nothing and told to deny themselves everything. “In my head,” Truell says, “I just went back to punk, to that feeling of prowling around looking for anything to do and being so mad about how boring everything is that you just have to yell.” The track had an attitude, it had an unexpected texture thanks to Truell’s playing improvised percussion, but her scream is what took it to the next level, transforming it into a signature Imperial Teen song.


One of Imperial Teen’s less magical concerns on All Over You is the effect capitalism has on the creation of art. This expresses itself in the headspinning rush of music industry success and disappointment that plays out in “Hands All Up,” and also in Imperial Teen’s sound. All Over You features the band’s most expansive, textured palette to date, and much of it’s steeped in — bubblegum music and boy/girl harmonies, electro beats and grungy distortion, power pop mall anthems and kiss-off lyricism — has been dismissed, at one point or another, as a fad. Time, of course, has proven otherwise, and All Over You makes a case for Imperial Teen as four of that time’s architects, inheriting, preserving, and pushing the boundaries of what pop music can be from one song to the next.


“We want to make people dance and think and feel,” says Schwartz. In all of those ambitions, All Over You crushes, brought to life by four musicians who found each other in the clubs of San Francisco over three decades ago and have remained family ever since. It is less a return from hiatus than a broadcast from the sonic utopia Imperial Teen has long ruled over, where the music is bratty and sexy and the parties don’t stop until everyone’s found euphoria. A raveup for mind, body, and soul, best enjoyed in a dark room packed with as many sweaty bodies as possible

Heavyweight psychedelic improvisers EarthBall are back with their third and most monstrous record to date: ‘Outside Over There’, released on Upset The Rhythm (Nov 7th). Born from the haunted basements of Nanaimo, Canada, the quintet thrives on spontaneity, shaping improvisation into jagged hallucinations and ecstatic eruptions.
Recorded live-off-the-floor in 2024 in Jeremy, Izzy, and Kellen’s basement, and mixed by drummer John Brennan, ‘Outside Over There’ is an album that feels both summoned and inevitable. Each track lands with uncanny purpose, as if uncovered rather than written.
The opener, 100%, features a cameo from comedian and English icon Stewart Lee, who lent his blessing for the band to use a fragment of his stand-up. The album was mastered by John Dieterich (Deerhoof), with liner text contributed by longtime comrade John Olson (Wolf Eyes). Olson describes the album in his unmistakable style:
“This eight-track odyssey unfolds like a dreamscape, where whispered incantations brush against the shadowy fringes of the cosmos, and wild, Cézanne-inspired rock anthems erupt like geysers of color in the midst of a western warm and wet rain storm… culminating in the sprawling eleven minute masterpiece, ‘And The Music Shall Untune The Sky,’ aptly dubbed the Earth Crusher. A creation so utterly deconstructed and intertwined with the pulse of nature itself that if AI was called upon to conceive ‘Outside Over There’ anew, it would just spit back, “F.U. in Tree Font”. An enchanting invitation for even the flat-earthers to join the circle, if only just a little.”
EarthBall’s trajectory has been relentless. Their 2024 album ‘It’s Yours’ was praised by The Quietus as “fully aggressive and fully life-affirming,” and by The Wire as "a boisterous mind-melting album”. The band’s live double set LP ‘Actual Earth Music Vol. 1 & 2’ (2025) captured blistering performances: a performance opening for Wolf Eyes at the Fox Cabaret, and a Café OTO improvised throw-down featuring Chris Corsano and Steve Beresford. These releases on their own confirm them as one of Canada’s most vital experimental exports, not to mention the impressive self-released discography on their Bandcamp. The band’s reach has stretched far beyond their west coast roots with a UK tour May 2024, plus this past June, EarthBall closed Montreal’s Suoni Per Il Popolo Festival alongside Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Raven Chacon. This November they will perform at Le Guess Who? Festival in Utrecht, with a European tour to follow (tour dates below). Outside of EarthBall, each member carries their own torch. Jeremy Van Wyck, founding member of the legendary Shearing Pinx, has toured extensively, released over 100 records, and has been a vital force in the Vancouver and West Coast underground for the past 25 years. He and Isabel Ford (Izzy) play together not only in EarthBall, but also in Psychedelic Dirt, Shearing Pinx, Behaviours, and Crotch.
John Brennan collaborates widely, including recently with Endlings (Raven Chacon and John Dieterich), Evichen (Victoria Shen), Francesco Fonassi, Plan Your Future (with Greg Saunier of Deerhoof), Brennan/Corsano duo and Physics with John Dieterich. Kellen Maclaughlin performs with KVMP and Ora Corgan, while saxophonist Liam Murphy is a west coast staple, playing with the best across Vancouver Island and the mainland. On three of the tracks of ‘Outside Over There’, the band is joined by their comrade Justin Patterson, who also plays with Brennan in the duo Modale. This cross-pollination fuels EarthBall’s sound - a collective improvisation, psychically overdriven, and grinding into bloom.
Outside Over There’ is more than an album though, it is a ritual, a gathering of sound at the forest’s edge; where feedback, saxophone screams, and ecstatic vocals dissolve the boundary between chaos and clarity. EarthBall invite you into their circle, to share in the joyful terror of spontaneous creation. ‘Outside Over There’ will be released on November 7th through Upset The Rhythm digitally and as a limited blue-in-black vinyl LP.

Wewantsounds is delighted to continue its Ziad Rahbani reissue program with Ana Moush Kafer, a classic album by the Lebanese legend Ziad Rahbani, recorded at his By-Pass Studio in Beirut during the height of the Lebanese Civil War in 1985. Showcasing Rahbani’s signature blend of Arabic music infused with touches of jazz-funk and bossa nova, the album has attained cult status over the years. Originally released on cassette, it has never before been available on vinyl. Newly remastered, this edition features the original Relax-In cassette artwork from 1985 and includes new liner notes by Mario Choueiry of the Institut du Monde Arabe in Paris.

Ziad Rahbani, who passed away in 2025, remains one of the most influential figures in modern Arabic music and a cultural icon in Lebanon. A musician, composer, pianist, producer and playwright, he helped modernize Arabic music over five decades. The son of composer Assi Rahbani and singer Fairuz, he shaped her late 70s–80s recordings producing Wahdon and Maarifti Feek, while building a major solo career with classics such as Abu Ali and Houdou Nisbi, which have become cult favourites for a new generation of DJs and music lovers.
Released in 1985 in Lebanon, Ana Moush Kafer stands as one of Rahbani’s key achievements. Recorded at his By-Pass Studio during the Lebanese Civil War, it blends Arabic melodic traditions with jazz-funk, bossa nova and Western arrangements. Originally cassette-only, it became one of his most revered releases. Throughout the album, Rahbani’s writing reflects the turbulence of wartime Beirut with a blend of sharp social observation, political satire and melancholy. It captures a moment in Lebanese cultural history where experimentation, satire and popular song intersected, giving the album its enduring influence among music lovers.

Sung by Rahbani and Sami Hawat, alongside Beirut-based musicians, the album features both Western and traditional Arabic instruments. It balances refined arrangements with lyrical irony, social commentary and political reflection, which remain deeply resonant in today’s context in Lebanon.
One of the highlights of the album is the song “Shou A’ada Ma Bada,” with lyrics by Joseph Harb, which reveals a clear bossa nova influence, while the closing track, “Al Mokawama Al Watania Al Lobnani,” offers a deeply human view of war, avoiding patriotic cliché in favour of a nuanced perspective rooted in lived experience.
As Mario Choueiry observes in his liner notes, “Ana Moush Kafer stands as one of the high points of modern Arab political songwriting, yet transcends its historical and geographical context through the universal relevance of its themes and the timeless quality of its music.”
Forty years on, Ana Moush Kafer remains a landmark of Arab music. Wewantsounds presents it on vinyl for the first time, newly remastered and featuring original artwork. This long-awaited reissue restores one of Ziad Rahbani’s most important works to circulation, reaffirming its place as a defining statement in modern Arabic music.

a 1. Ana Moush Kafer 5:03
[b] 2. Shou Hal Ayyam [5:46]
[c] 3. A'anitham [4:37]
[d] 4. Shou A'ada Ma Bada [3:45]
[e] 5. Yessa'ed we Yea'en [5:05]
[f] 6. Bi Halyawmayn [3:46]
[g] 7. Bharf Esheen [1:12]
[h] 8. Bhaneek [5:34]
[i] 9. Al Mokawama Al Watania Al Lobnani [3:06]

[a] 1. Ana Moush Kafer [5:03]
[b] 2. Shou Hal Ayyam [5:46]
[c] 3. A'anitham [4:37]
[d] 4. Shou A'ada Ma Bada [3:45]
[e] 5. Yessa'ed we Yea'en [5:05]
[f] 6. Bi Halyawmayn [3:46]
[g] 7. Bharf Esheen [1:12]
[h] 8. Bhaneek [5:34]
[i] 9. Al Mokawama Al Watania Al Lobnani [3:06]

[a] 1. Ana Moush Kafer [5:03]
[b] 2. Shou Hal Ayyam [5:46]
[c] 3. A'anitham [4:37]
[d] 4. Shou A'ada Ma Bada [3:45]
[e] 5. Yessa'ed we Yea'en [5:05]
[f] 6. Bi Halyawmayn [3:46]
[g] 7. Bharf Esheen [1:12]
[h] 8. Bhaneek [5:34]
[i] 9. Al Mokawama Al Watania Al Lobnani [3:06]

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

2027 marks two decades since musician and producer Paul ‘Mudd’ Murphy struck out on his own and launched Claremont 56, a label initially dedicated to “music by Mudd and friends” and named after the house he grew up in. To celebrate its 20th anniversary, Murphy has assembled the label’s first ever decades-spanning vinyl retrospective: a six-LP re-mastered collection bringing together key cuts, cult classics, personal favourites, hard-to-find gems and inspired remixes from across the catalogue.

Unlike the label’s previous 10th anniversary box set, which focused on unreleased material and never-before-heard remixes, 20 Years of Claremont 56 traces the musical story of the imprint to date. Across six records, it showcases the distinctive Claremont 56 sound in all its many forms: acoustic, electric and electronic instrumentation, Balearic sunshine, krautrock grooves, folk-inflected psychedelia, slow-burning chuggers and deeply considered dancefloor music.
The set comes housed in a custom box featuring cover art by long-term label illustrator Mark Warrington. Inside are six slabs of vinyl across three gatefold sleeves, accompanied by liner notes from music journalist and author Matt Anniss, Murphy himself, and many of the artists whose music features in the collection.

The journey begins with a selection of formative late-noughties releases, including Mudd & Pollard’s chugging, picturesque ‘Villa Stavros’, the folksy beauty of Smith & Mudd’s ‘Shulme’ and Murphy’s exotic reworking of Ahmed Fakroun’s ‘Drago’. From there, the collection moves freely through deep cuts, overlooked gems, album highlights and some of the most inspired remixes in the label’s catalogue.

Among those remixes is Murphy’s own über-Balearic rework of Zee Erf’s cover of ‘Southern Freeez’, a mix dedicated to his partner Emma; an extraordinary 22-minute, Manuel Göttsching-meets-ambient-dub revision of Smith & Mudd’s ‘Vegetable Square’ by friends-of-the-family Idjut Boys; Larry Heard’s typically deep and immersive house treatment of Jack Cutter’s ‘Serpent Strut’; and Quiet Village’s ambient-house ‘deep space dub’ of Mudd’s ‘Spielplatz’. Also included are lesser-celebrated but no less rewarding reworks by Recloose, Jex Opolis, Felix Dickinson and Deep88.

The collection represents every corner of Claremont 56’s self-contained musical universe, from the Murphy-assembled in-house collectives Hillside, Paqua and Bison - whose members famously included the late Holger Czukay and his life partner Ursula, to long-serving label artists such as Almunia and Hear & Now, as well as later additions and artists who took some of their first steps on the label through its much-loved Claremont Editions compilations.
That means the deeply cosmic krautrock of Bambi Davidson, the folk-meets-Americana of Torn Sail and the samba-electrofunk of Jpye sit alongside baggy Balearic sing-alongs such as Bel’s ‘Ready To Die’ and Sillyboy’s Ghost Relatives’ ‘In a Small Place’, recent high-profile guest releases such as Chaz Jankel’s ‘Rhumba Jam’, and string-laden ambient pieces such as Four Hands’ wonderful ‘Hizou’.

Packed with classic cuts, formative gems and overlooked treats, 20 Years of Claremont 56 is not only a fabulous label retrospective, but also an essential collection of timeless music from a label whose output has remained distinctive and unique for two decades.

For the label's latest, Oath is proud to present 'Honey Tangerine', the newest mini-album from producer extortionaire Olsvangèr, who serves up his signature blend of hyper-kinetic, ever-shifting dance music.

Olsvangèr's sound and musical journey are forever rooted in the liminal spaces that make up the broad-reaching and ever-shifting electronic music landscape, with his records consistently channeling that in-betweenness that imprints lasting impressions. A classically trained musician with a profound passion for house and techno, Olsvangèr's sonic palette is one of both broad and delicate brush strokes, applying an array of compelling motifs within amorphous arrangements that blend and blur perspectives. His records seek out the faraway fringes as much as focusing on the intensity found in the detail, creating cavernous soundscapes that are impeccably tuned and effortlessly free-flowing. Seemingly genreless, his records are anchored in all that is known and loved, yet due to the music's perspective situated at the intersectionality of electronica, a beautiful anticipation resides within every stanza of his tracks at what may come next. His musical language has found him releasing on the likes of Kalahari Oyster Cult, Hooj Choons and Craigie Knowes, and follows through within his imprint Tofistock, which has been pushing some of the most forward-thinking dance music of recent times.

'Honey Tangerine' touches upon the classic motifs of Olsvangèr's sound, and as always, the room for growth within the record's parameters remains truly endless. Over six tracks, Olsvangèr lays bare the directions of travel, with paths unravelling that feel well trodden yet with some that branch out towards new horizons. 'Source of Thought' opens up proceedings with a captivating ambience, where twinkling hues and lively tones paint the parameters of sound. The chuggy breaks that land deep within the mix drop in and out of view, allowing a deft balance between pure ambiance and rhythm to exchange dialogue between one another. 'In a Nutshell' shifts gears in atmosphere and energy, with all eyes placed upon the club. The shifting rhythm section lifts the acidic melodic features up above, with driving bass notes and a euphoric vocal like lead linking the depths to the heavens. 'Tulpa Nine' swings into heads-down territory, where the drums swing slow and the throbbing bass hits heavy. The auto-tune vocal line up above creates an atmosphere of hazy, smoke-filled rooms, where the party yearns for downtime in anticipation of the next shift in energy.

'Sunrise on the Lips' gives over further chill out room vibrations, where the lights remain low, and smiles reside all around. The enriching drums provide the basis for sitars and glossy keys to glide across the top ends, with the mind invited to dip deep within this enthralling ensemble. 'Zoom It Out' provides the release into the room, with the ante upped. A breaky house leaning number, this cut grooves through its chiming melodic section and groove-laden bass line, with the polyrhythmic drumming pattern doing much to keep the energy residing very high indeed. The record is wrapped up with 'Some Air', which gives over one final jaunt through the airy, slowed-down slipstreams. A wondrous beat is complemented by melodic elements that chime, absorb and quiver, glowing through the night with such charm and feel. An engrossing composition that demonstrates what Olsvangèr is all about - a crafter of sound, where adventure is sought and found, never wavering but curating new connections, feelings, and tones, with an eye on what might come next.

Whether softly undulating or boundlessly expressive, Olsvangèr's music remains a beautiful enigma that serves up both the glorious knowns and the captivating unknowns - 'Honey Tangerine' is yet another chapter in his glorious discography.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

Creole Culture is the triumphant return of Dawn Richard’s King Creole era. Steeped in history but with its flag planted firmly in the future, Creole Culture pulls elements from Richard’s heritage as a Black and Native American woman who has spent a lifetime making and engaging with music. Following New Breed (2019) and Second Line (2021), Creole Culture is akin to a panel of a triptych: a fully-realized sonic and narrative universe in which Richard, as King Creole, rebuilds her hometown of New Orleans in her image. She not only honors her city for what it was or what it gave her, but stakes a claim for it as a cradle of global culture now and for all time.


Creole Culture follows two acclaimed avant-garde R&B albums with composer Spencer Zahn — the later of which, 2024’s Quiet in a World Full of Noise, found Richard exorcising the specters of grief and trauma in the wake of her father Frank Richard’s health struggles and the killing of her cousin Cisco. It is a softer take on the brass-soaked swagger of Richard’s previous King Creole efforts, an evolution brought about when she realized she had left a crucial viewpoint out of her exploration of New Orleans: her own. “New Breed was the story of New Orleans through my father’s eyes,” Richard explains. “I used his samples, his music, his cultures, his work with Chocolate Milk, his side of the family. Second Line was my mom — her interludes riddled the album with her depiction of what is meant to be a Creole woman in New Orleans. The masculine and feminine sides of King Creole had expressed themselves through them, but the story felt unfinished, like my version of the story was untold.”
That story is, for lack of a better word, complex: at turns triumphant and tragic, sexy and mournful, braggadocious and contemplative. Creole Culture presents Richard’s New Orleans as a utopian soundscape — an intoxicating blend of R&B, soul, hip-hop, pop, and jazz — that’s survived and thrived despite the dystopian circumstances visited upon it. Richard presents the melange of influence and artifact on Creole Culture with the care of a botanist nurturing new hybrids in a rose garden.


What emerges from that care is at once delightful and unexpected, enlisting a crew of guest stars including Big Freedia, Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, and Durand Bernarr for features that play against type. Tank’s turn at spoken word verse on “l v r” serves to add dimension to King Creole’s New Orleans, as does Joseph’s undeniable voice on “chuuuurch.” “I’m not normally a features girl,” says Richard, ”but King Creole can’t build a world from scratch without help. What’s beautiful about the features here — which is also true of my band and producers — is they come from people who understand the materials of the world they’re from, they’re people I love, and they’re people who are just extraordinary at what they do. They’re part of the atmosphere of this place. You need them for the record to breathe.”
In the end, that’s what King Creole creates: a space where Dawn Richard can breathe, can be at peace with herself, and let loose with others. From finding love in opening single “enough” to relishing in the Afrocaribbean futurism of “fiesta,” Creole Culture is a tremendous, freeing breath of fresh air. It captures the resolve of a woman and a place who’ve survived the unimaginable and sees the future not as something to be endured, but as something to be created. Dawn Richard has been making that future one album at a time over the course of her career. Creole Culture is her most stunning one yet.

Axis Expressionist Series

A collection of vinyl and limited digital releases, curated by Millsart, an alias of Jeff Mills, of his most eclectic and transcendent compositions that derive from his Every Dog Has Its Day project as well as new unreleased works. Vernacular creations that fall off from the "other side" of the Electronic Music tree, this project is designed for the experienced Techno music listeners, and its goal is to reflect upon the pure artistry of the craft of storytelling. A realization between music and life. Whereas "dancing" is the goal of Dance Music, the goal of this music is about "reflecting on the complexity and simplification of life".Soundtracks for people in their evolutionary process.

This release 'Drifter' is about 'Hype'.



Hype

An animal that prowls on the vulnerable - it excites those who might be looking the other way or with their eyes and minds wide shut.

What is life without hype?

As a transitional tool, hype can be most effective especially when impulse reactions are at play. Something of a psychological currency, there is a lot to gain by giving people what they want - the rush that comes with taking part in a process of making something bigger, more successful and more preferred. Even if there is nothing there.

What's wrong with getting exciting about something?

There are only a few rare masterclass cases that have lasted a lifetime.

As Andy Warhol proclaimed that "everyone will be World famous for 15 minutes" rings darkly true in an era when each one of us can be the talent scout, artist, critic, audience.......and then a revisionist, hoping to bring hype back again by reminding people how great the first round felt.

We are all free to use our attention and time anyway we please. This is the freedom we have, right?

In most cases, we wake up and at some point, the question of justification becomes a debate between those who found unconditional solace and those who re-discovered the subject of substance and "kicked the tires".

Should I care if others like or dislike something?

For some, the hype of something never ends. It hardens and becomes part of a foundation like a cement podium. Something to be stood on to speak over all dissenting voices.

Year Of The Spider is the third studio album by American rock band Cold, released on May 13, 2003. It became the band’s most commercially successful record, debuting at number three on the Billboard album charts and selling over 101,000 copies in its first week. The album also marks the final appearance of guitarists Terry Balsamo and Kelly Hayes. One year prior to the album’s release, the mellow ballad “Gone Away” appeared on the WWF Tough Enough 2 soundtrack.

Produced by Howard Benson, Year Of The Spider presents a noticeably more commercial sound than its darker predecessor, 13 Ways To Bleed On Stage. The album incorporates a wide range of guitar styles, as well as violin, viola, cello, digital effects, and several powerful ballads. While Cold continues to explore themes such as drug abuse and troubled relationships, the album also expands into new territory. “Cure My Tragedy” reflects Scooter Ward’s emotional struggle during his sister’s battle with cancer, while “The Day Seattle Died” addresses the deaths of grunge icons Kurt Cobain and Layne Staley. According to Ward, “Kill the Music Industry” is not aimed at any specific label or individual, but comments on the broader state of the music business.

Year Of The Spider is available as double vinyl album, features the hidden bonus track “Gone Away” and contains an insert with lyrics.

Rome, late afternoon, 1974. The light comes in over the colossal hills, the way it only does for an hour before the city forgives itself for the day's noise. Axefield is on an urgent quest to create cinema in the form of sound as a romantic alternative to disposable tools. He is looking for a sound so effortless he is not sure it can truly exist, but only be felt - somewhere between a film score, a heartbeat and a late night dinner at his favourite trattoria.

Ostuni Bound, NOW! is the debut album from Amsterdam-based electronic artist and composer Axefield, bringing club-heavy bass music together with the drama and romance of 70s Italian cinema. The narrative and emotions within the record stem from a romantic setting in Southern Italy that unexpectedly turned violent, forcing Axefield to flee the city after receiving the death threat "non provocare morte".

At its heart is the belief that romanticising life can lead us towards deeper human meaning, offering a different route from the hyper-capitalist pursuit of efficiency that increasingly shapes how we live and create. Throughout the album, Axefield worked through three characters representing innocence, control and destruction, using each as a framework for decisions in production, composition and mixing.

The album features Amsterdam-based rising UKG talent DANN and Johannesburg-based Kamohelo, frontman of Swedish electronic group Off The Meds. It's all starting to feel like cinematic time travel in which beauty is reintroduced in the realm of contemporary dance.

Released on Intercept alongside a beautifully crafted vinyl edition, Ostuni Bound, NOW! feels like the soundtrack to a film that was never shot. Somewhere behind him, a projector he cannot see begins to turn, playing a film for an audience that has not arrived yet.

As they arrive, he is the one who ultimately presses play.

And just like that, Ostuni Bound, NOW! Begins where Rome has always begun: beyond function and beauty and all that lingers in between.

Sublime frequencies from the golden era of ambient electronica.

Plumbing hidden depths beneath a deceptively tranquil surface, MLO's mid-90s masterpiece Io is an overlooked gem from a golden era for ambient electronic music. Originally released in 1994, Jon Tye and Pete Smith's collaborative album responded to the growing chill-out movement by leaning into classical and avant-garde influences from Satie, Debussy and Cage through to Soft Machine, Incredible String Band and Eno. Recorded across various studios stacked with classic and rare synths, Io was patiently composed into slowly unfolding suites punctuated with ripples of arrhythmic interference to arrive at a purist vision of true ambient.

The next instalment in Forever Records' ongoing reissue series shines a light back on this landmark piece of UK electronica with the first official reissue since its original edition on Rising High. As well as the original double LP pressing and a new CD digipak version, there will also be a uniquely numbered, limited edition housed in a gatefold sleeve that comes with a bonus 10" featuring two previously unreleased versions of the album's opening cut, 'Wimborne'.

Press response to Io:

"Not so much ambient, more environmental music, Io lets you bring as much (or as little) of your surroundings in as suits your mood. Every listen can be different. Interactive ambient at last.”

IO is pure ambience. Relying on motif as opposed to melody, MLO have produced a truly evocative album.

Peter McIntyre, Mixmag, UK 1994.

"MLO's influences range from the likes of Eric Satie and the intellectual salon music of his era to the more predictable reference point of dubby, modern techno, though they feel, perhaps rather contentiously, that "ambient music can exist in isolation from the rest of the dance music arena". Can it? Take a trip to Io, and find out."
Generator Magazine, UK 1994.

"If you like your ambient deep and moody with long chords that creep along at approximately the speed of drying paint then check out MLO’s Io."
Mixology, UK 1994.

"MLO set the controls for the heart of headspace for their first full album release. Io is top grade ambient brain… Ace album…"
Select, UK 1994.

Sublime frequencies from the golden era of ambient electronica.

Plumbing hidden depths beneath a deceptively tranquil surface, MLO's mid-90s masterpiece Io is an overlooked gem from a golden era for ambient electronic music. Originally released in 1994, Jon Tye and Pete Smith's collaborative album responded to the growing chill-out movement by leaning into classical and avant-garde influences from Satie, Debussy and Cage through to Soft Machine, Incredible String Band and Eno. Recorded across various studios stacked with classic and rare synths, Io was patiently composed into slowly unfolding suites punctuated with ripples of arrhythmic interference to arrive at a purist vision of true ambient.

The next instalment in Forever Records' ongoing reissue series shines a light back on this landmark piece of UK electronica with the first official reissue since its original edition on Rising High. As well as the original double LP pressing and a new CD digipak version, there will also be a uniquely numbered, limited edition housed in a gatefold sleeve that comes with a bonus 10" featuring two previously unreleased versions of the album's opening cut, 'Wimborne'.

Press response to Io:

"Not so much ambient, more environmental music, Io lets you bring as much (or as little) of your surroundings in as suits your mood. Every listen can be different. Interactive ambient at last.”

IO is pure ambience. Relying on motif as opposed to melody, MLO have produced a truly evocative album.

Peter McIntyre, Mixmag, UK 1994.

"MLO's influences range from the likes of Eric Satie and the intellectual salon music of his era to the more predictable reference point of dubby, modern techno, though they feel, perhaps rather contentiously, that "ambient music can exist in isolation from the rest of the dance music arena". Can it? Take a trip to Io, and find out."
Generator Magazine, UK 1994.

"If you like your ambient deep and moody with long chords that creep along at approximately the speed of drying paint then check out MLO’s Io."
Mixology, UK 1994.

"MLO set the controls for the heart of headspace for their first full album release. Io is top grade ambient brain… Ace album…"
Select, UK 1994.

His discography has long been heard through the lens of the American folk tradition. But Just Beyond Endless Mountain, out October 9th on Anti- Records, quietly turns that perspective on its head. After returning to his native Dalarna in central Sweden, Matsson found himself listening to the music he had spent years trying to leave behind: the polskas, the old field recordings and the sounds of the local traditions that had surrounded him since childhood. The result is not a return to the past, but a step into new musical territory. Swedish folk music has reshaped his melodies, his voice, and the way he writes songs. The Tallest Man On Earth is back with his most deeply rooted album to date. Just Beyond Endless Mountain opens an unexpected new chapter in a career that has never settled for familiar ground

It’s as sure as night follows day, one of the last truly reliable things in these uncertain times, a rock in the storm of information overload, and still one of the best things you can make from PVC: The new TOTAL compilation is here!

The cheerful opener “Xtasy” comes from the up-and-coming Cologne-based DJ H0TLINE. If it says ‘Ecstasy’ on the label, that’s exactly what’s inside. The term ‘legend’ is all too often bandied about lightly. In the case of ORLANDO VOORN, it’s almost an understatement. His ‘So Deep Remix’ is a goosebumps-inducing masterpiece in its purest form. Simply wow. FRANKEY & SANDRINO haven’t visited us for a while, but their key still fits the lock. Watch out – “Disruption” might expand your consciousness! Ah, nobody grapples so beautifully with life’s big questions as TEE MANGO, but what would the world be without melancholy? A Disneyland of triviality! TEAM 85E, newly formed around JÖRG BURGER, takes on a classic from the German songbook by Ton, Steine, Scherben and opens hearts with the same ease as others open tins of beer. Speaking of hearts, MICHAEL MAYER pays tribute to the successful Artemis 2 lunar mission, as a small thank-you for reminding us that it should really always be about love. SOG, aka WOLFGANG VOIGT, agrees wholeheartedly. Sometimes all it takes is a bass drum, eight notes and a bit of love for total satisfaction. ROBAG WRUHME does what he does best: luring us down the proverbial rabbit hole like the White Rabbit, just not quite so frantically. JÜRGEN PAAPE, together with FENJA LUDWIG, doesn’t pull a rabbit out of the hat, but rather a modern dub-techno hit. We watch in amazement as a new genre takes shape. Finally, it’s time to sit back and relax with REINHARD VOIGT and just let things be. Cocktail or beer? The main thing is: it’s cold.

The first ever full official release of Orbital's legendary Glastonbury 1994 performance !
Originally performed and broadcast to a generation discovering electronic music in real time, Orbital's set at Glastonbury '94 became a defining cultural moment - not only for the band, but for dance music itself. At a time when electronic acts were still fighting for recognition on major festival stages, Orbital proved that dance music could be as emotional, cinematic, and powerful as any headline rock performance. The iconic headtorches, the energy of the crowd, and the sheer ambition of the performance helped cement the set as one of the most important live electronic shows ever witnessed. A gamechanger for the dance music scence.
Although the performance has long circulated online and remained a fan favourite for decades, there has always been overwhelming demand for an official release.

The first ever full official release of Orbital's legendary Glastonbury 1994 performance !
Originally performed and broadcast to a generation discovering electronic music in real time, Orbital's set at Glastonbury '94 became a defining cultural moment - not only for the band, but for dance music itself. At a time when electronic acts were still fighting for recognition on major festival stages, Orbital proved that dance music could be as emotional, cinematic, and powerful as any headline rock performance. The iconic headtorches, the energy of the crowd, and the sheer ambition of the performance helped cement the set as one of the most important live electronic shows ever witnessed. A gamechanger for the dance music scence.
Although the performance has long circulated online and remained a fan favourite for decades, there has always been overwhelming demand for an official release.

Recut and repressed

Every now and then, there are tracks that stand the test of time. Tracks that are more than just another DJ-tool. Tracks to remember. When „Fom Within“ was released 13 years ago. the track found its way into almost every DJ-Case that summer, and to this day, people playit out at special moments. When Gregor Tresher started to mix Celeda´s „Music Is the Answer“ Acapella over it, inofficial remixes popped up everywhere. We decided to actually never release that version, as we believe some things should be in the DJ´s hands, as there´s nothing quite magic as if a DJ-Mix creates something new. We are happy to give to you an official repress of one of the strongest tracks from our label´s history. Play it out and let it work it´s magic.

Rocco Universal presents four cuts of cosmic machine funk on Cosmic Tiger.

Lovingly recorded using analogue synthesis, the floor-focused music favours feeling over control, with saturated drums, thick bass notes and slow-burning melodies loosely entwined over intuitive arrangements. Shaped patiently amid Rocco’s long-running residency at Potato Head Bali, the tracks meander through cosmic disco, proto-house, electro-funk and psychedelic chug, each finding its place beneath evolving twilight skies.

Rocco Universal is the alter-ego of Patrizio Cavaliere — DJ, producer and journalist serving the roots of music from the space in between. His cultured turntable curation alongside years in conversation with some of the scene’s architects and ambassadors inform freeform productions that have previously arrived on labels including Leng, Soul Clap and Adeen Detroit.

Originally launched as a blog, Cosmic Tiger now surfaces only occasionally through interviews and original releases, operating as a slow-moving but trusted archive of influences, conversations and dancefloor oddities.

2026 Repress

What an unbelievable record. From the wild cover to the iconic breakbeats, Roots from Ian Carr’s Nucleus is one of the dopest albums we know. This is seriously thick, funky-prog jazz-rock heaven. Originally released on Vertigo in 1973, other than a couple of versions at the time for other territories, Roots was never re-pressed since so it’s gone on to become another one of those impossible to find records.

Maybe it was a little too out there for the time, but it’s aged very, very well indeed and this Be With re-issue, re-mastered from the original analogue tapes, shows off just why this deserves to be back in press.

Genius trumpeter and visionary composer Ian Carr was one of the most respected British musicians of his era. He was a true pioneer and saw the potential in fusing the worlds of jazz with rock, just as Miles Davis and The Tony Williams Lifetime did in the US. In late 1969, following the demise of the Rendell-Carr quintet, and tiring of British jazz, Carr assembled the legendary Nucleus. Regarding music as a continuous process, Nucleus refused to “recognise rigid boundaries” and worked on delivering what they saw as a “total musical experience”. We can get behind that.

Under bandleader Carr, Nucleus existed as a fluid line-up of inventive, skilled musicians. This constant evolution and revolution was all part of the continuous musical exploration and discovery that took jazz to new levels.

Working together with producer Fritz Fryer and engineer Roger Wake, the seven compositions by Carr, Brian Smith and Dave MacRae that make up Roots flirt with perfection, and Nucleus at that time made up of the cream of 1970s UK jazz with Brian Smith on tenor saxophones and flutes, Dave MacRae on piano and electric piano, Jocelyn Pitchen on guitar, Roger Sutton on bass, both Clive Thacker and Aureo De Souza on drums and percussion, Joy Yates delivering the vocals and of course Carr on trumpet.

The spellbinding title track immediately renders the album indispensable. Riding the illest of loping breakbeats, “Roots” is low-slung, doped-out heist-funk. An absolute monster. If it sounds familiar then that’s likely down to it being sampled by Madlib for Lootpack and Quasimoto’s “Loop Digga”, as well as by a whole host of beat manipulators. “Roots” conjures prime instrumental hip-hop / beat music, only 20 years ahead of its time. Truly, these are the roots. Through sinuous bass, twinkling keys and a hypnotic guitar riff, a smoky brass motif weaves its way into a gloriously deep haze around Carr’s solos. “Roots” is over 9 minutes long, but there’s not a single wasted second, not surprising given that this is a condensed version of an originally 40 minute long commissioned composition.

The soothing vocal fusion delight of “Images” follows. Meticulously constructed, with gorgeous flute work from Brian Smith, with Joy Yates’ silky vocals and Dave MacRae’s Rhodes never sounding better. The cool, driving “Caliban” closes out the first side. Originally the third movement in a four part commission to celebrate Shakespeare’s birthday it stands up on its own, all robust rhythms and blended brass. Keyboard colour and Carr’s trumpet are splashed across the funk drums and basslines (and there’s even some bamboo flute). This really is fusion: the elements of jazz and rock coming together in beautifully synthesis.

Side two opens in riotous fashion with the short, thrilling samba of “Wapatiti”. Next up, “Capricorn” forms a smoothed-out, jazzy constellation. Mellow and dreamy, its twinkling percussion and languid horns slowly build the vibe before head-nod drums and a killer bassline enter the fray. With a distinct heaviness that Black Sabbath would’ve envied, “Odokamona” is a venomous slice of riff-soaked jazz metal (yes, you read that right), elevated by Carr’s wah-wah horns.

The album closes with MacRae’s exceptionally cosmic “Southern Roots and Celebration”. Very much in conversation with Weather Report, it opens as a languorous, spiritual jazz of chiming keys and serene guitar that turns slowly, gorgeously into a mid-paced, brass-laced banger. It’s another sure-fire party starter and the sound of the band having a righteous blast, building an ecstatic chaos that ends with Yates screaming.

And of course we need to talk about Keith Davis’ cover for Roots. Perhaps the coolest record cover of all time? Certainly one of the most bonkers. Just your run-of-the-mill high-gloss, acid-tinged airbrush dystopian/utopian living-room party scene. Consider this your chemical flashback trigger warning.

Front-and-centre the hip-to-death green robot holds court with their giant ball of yellow barbwire wool, hooked up to… something(?) being teased out from under the stairs (probably best not to ask). A thoroughly zoned-out, long-legged Pop Art party-goer lounges half-plugged in to the painting behind her as a pair of legs flail into shot from the the top of the stairs opposite. We won’t even begin to guess what the chap’s up to in the middle, but the view out of the windows is rather nice, and someone’s already got the hoover out ready to tidy up. All of the Nucleus sleeves are something special, but this particular one? Crikey.

This Be With edition of Roots has been re-mastered from the original Vertigo master tapes, Simon Francis’ mastering working together with Pete Norman’s cut to weave their usual magic with these wonderful recordings. The crazy cover has been restored at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

The premise of this compilation is simple: music we’d like to hear at the airport.

The idea came after learning that Honolulu’s international airport has been playing AI-generated music over its speakers since November 2025. First reported by Civil Beat, the news has caused frustration and disappointment among residents and visitors, as well as within the local music community.

Everyone knows Hawaii is one of the most musically rich regions in the world — why then is the airport using AI music? 'Music For The Airport' is our response.

Located in the middle of the Pacific at the outskirts of one the most remote cities on the planet, Honolulu’s Daniel K. Inouye International Airport (HNL) is for most people the first place they encounter when they arrive in Hawaii. Warm sun, tropical tradewinds, playful palm trees and majestic mountains welcome every traveler, as do the sounds of birds, familiar music from Hawaiian artists like Aunty Genoa Keawe and Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, and—at least for now—seventeen “island-themed” AI-generated songs.

In late 1977, while sitting in Germany’s Cologne Bonn Airport on a Sunday morning, Brian Eno noticed how terribly uncomfortable he felt hearing the airport’s “muzak” overhead. For a harried, hurried place like the airport where travelers scramble to their gates, stand in long border control lines, and wait impatiently for their luggage at the carousels, music can create more anxiety than calm. Asking himself, "What should we be hearing here?", Eno soon created ‘Ambient 1: Music For Airports’, a sonic remedy aimed at reducing nervousness in public spaces.

When we heard the news that HNL airport is playing AI-generated “muzak”, we were immediately reminded of Eno’s genre-defying 1978 album. And we were similarly inspired to react. But how? Recreating an ambient masterpiece wasn’t in our wheelhouse. We started digging through our catalog of licensed music which we haven’t yet re-released. We quickly realized this was our chance to highlight some of favorite songs from the so-called CD era: the 1990s and 2000s (with a few exceptions). In less than 20 minutes, we pulled 17 original songs recorded by local artists between 1984 and 2017.

The speed at which this project came together surprised us; reactionary gut instinct often produces swift and lasting results. Ironically, our new compilation likely took less time than it did for the state Department of Transportation to commission its AI songs in question. But even though ‘Music for the Airport’ came together in less than one week, the truth is that this collection of 17 songs is the result of years of hard work, trust, sacrifice, patience, and understanding. Building relationships with and licensing music from artists doesn’t happen overnight, but more importantly: these songs are the result of people pouring their hearts and souls into something they believe in. This music wouldn’t exist today without the artists and their loved ones who supported them along the way.

As of this writing, the DOT states its intention in creating AI-generated songs is to “highlight different aspects of the islands, aviation and the airport” and that “no state funds were used to produce them”. Okay, but at what cost? Technology disrupting the music industry isn’t news to anyone. AI music in public spaces are cost-saving measures, since its users (airports, for example) don’t have to pay the licensing fees typically required, which can be a worthwhile source of revenue for artists. But what happens when a place like HNL airport, which hosts more than 21 million passengers annually, uses music created by machines instead of people to represent Hawaii? The identity of a place beings to erode, diluted by a language learning model’s conceptual summary of what a people and its culture sounds like. To echo Brian Eno: what should we be hearing here? In other words: what should the music of Hawaii sound like?

We believe in the power of music, especially when it comes from the soul. We believe in supporting artists, especially as AI disrupts our lives. We believe that Hawaii must be represented authentically, especially when it comes to song. And of course we believe in vinyl, especially since it was a record from 1978 (Mackey Feary Band’s debut LP) that inspired Aloha Got Soul’s origins in 2010.

We hope you find as much joy in this compilation as we have. Perhaps it’ll soundtrack your next journey to Hawaii. At the very least, we hope some people take a moment to hear these sounds: in your headphones for now‚ maybe someday overhead at the airport in Honolulu.

The track titles on Post Dub Cities – the new album by Adriano Zanni, photographer, sound artist, and field recordist – evoke the aftermath, that moment when a place continues to exist and live on, but no longer serves anyone. The human element has vanished, whether it happened overnight or through a slow abandonment that lasted for years. The perspective shifts: buildings, homes and palaces reveal a dimension of reality all their own, in which even the ruins give shape to this landscape that endures, transforming into pure presence.

This, after all, is our fate. The fate of us human beings, of our civilisation, of every civilisation: to pass away, to be forgotten, to erect monuments whose significance no one will remember once we are gone.

The opening track Crisopoli transforms the sonic dimension of a city into an echo chamber: a dark, urban dub built from delays and resonances, holding the imprint of what is no longer there — like a bassline that keeps vibrating even after its source has gone silent. What we see is not the presence, but its reverb.

Available from September 11, second excerpt Warosha gives us a minimalist, enveloping, solemn beat, like the symbols on a map that no one can read anymore. Warosha was the district of luxury hotels overlooking the sea in the city of Famagusta. After the island of Cyprus was invaded by the Turkish army, the entire area, emptied of its inhabitants, who had fled south, was fenced off and surrounded by barbed wire. No one has been allowed to enter it since 1974. Now, on these unspoilt beaches, sea turtles have found the perfect place to breed.

Fordlândia, on the other hand, is the symbol of Henry Ford’s failed dream of conquest. An industrial settlement built deep within the Amazon rainforest, several hours’ boat journey from the nearest towns, to gain access to natural rubber for the tyres of his mass-produced cars in Michigan. An extremely costly project, it quickly became a ruinous pipe dream: a town that has been uninhabited for almost a century and has since been reclaimed by nature.

For a long time now, Adriano Zanni has been exploring, through music and photography, the landscape that unfolds before our eyes, as attentive yet silent observers. As if we were absent, a civilisation that has long since vanished: human presence has dissolved, preparing to fade into oblivion. The precise depiction of places through field recordings, and the black-and-white imagery, give rise to apparitions, hallucinations, and memories. The less present we are, the more we seek meaning. We resist abandonment and the indifference of time.

In the ten tracks (plus three bonus tracks) of Post Dub Cities the echoes and reverberations of dub grant us access to an unknown future, as yet untold – in which we are nothing more than a vague memory. The deep sound guides us through a landscape that is familiar yet unknown, unrecognisable. The cold, distant, industrial rhythm resonates within us as if we were the last, all too aware, inhabitant of a now-deserted village.

Every place – be it an abandoned mining settlement on an island in Svalbard, or a ghost town in Pennsylvania evacuated following an underground fire that has been burning for sixty years at a depth of one hundred metres – leaves questions unanswered, shrouds itself in mystery, and makes us wonder, ceaselessly: what happened here?

In the end, we realise that we don’t really care that much about knowing the details of the disappearance. We can guess them, we’ve seen it happen a thousand times before. Just like in the photos accompanying the album, portraits of ghostly, deserted cities: Belgrade, like Venice, Dublin, Sarajevo, Lisbon, Kraków, Sofia, Naples, Hanoi, Lampedusa, Tehran. Unexpectedly, pleasantly emptied of people, and of their obsessions, struggles, illusions.

Then, suddenly, the crowd returns. Busy, feverish, hardworking. The record ends, the spell is broken. We feel a sense of longing for a future that has not yet come to pass, for a place we were only able to observe because we were not there.

The sun sat high above the desert outside Joshua Tree on October 17, 2024, baking the rocks and shrubbery outside the Farrington Observatory as a small group of invited guests ventured up a steep path towards the telescope. Kyle Simon, the artist and printmaker who founded the Observatory, was standing outside the print studio sat below the towering cylindrical building, greeting friends alongside his wife Sarah and lifelong friend Brian Weitz, the musician widely known as Geologist of Animal Collective. Simon and Weitz had spent the previous day testing and retesting a system that would transform the light of the oncoming full moon captured by the gigantic telescope into a signal that would modulate the control voltage of Weitz’s modular synthesizer. As the sun dipped below the horizon line, the audience gathered on a small wooden patio surrounded by speakers while Weitz readied himself behind the array of patches and knobs. Simon addressed the group, presenting the history of The Sirens, the sonic exploration of the night sky’s mystical and scientific significance about to unfold.

The music conjured under the Hunter’s Moon that night is now documented on this first official release of The Sirens, which was conceived by Simon and Weitz as a recurring performance piece and sound installation. Over a decade ago, Simon began immersing himself in literature on humanity’s sonic relationship to the celestial realm, including Homer’s Odyssey, Plato’s “Spindle of Necessity, ” Kepler’s Harmonices Mundi, and the field of astroseismology. He fitted homemade telescopes with photodiodes and optical sensors to make the images audible, finding latent patterns in the noisy sonic signals he began receiving from the stars. With Weitz, the process expanded as the signal was routed through an analog amplifier and set to modulate the pitch, filter, and other elements of his synthesizer. Together they developed a system of improvisation, with Simon adjusting the telescope to change the intensity of the light based on its relationship with the moon’s position (imagine a theremin player moving their hands in subtle, meaningful motion), and Weitz responding to that input in real time: bending it, amplifying it, or letting it stand on its own. The duo debuted the piece at the Integretron in Joshua Tree in 2018, providing a crucial proof of concept for the performance at Farrington featured here.

The first thing the listener hears on The Sirens is the opening of Farrington Observatory, the cranking of motor and metal. As the lens of the telescope is exposed to the evening air, a wavering drone emerges from the synthesizer, flickering at the margins, the tuning of the oscillators adjusting to the rapidly cooling desert air. The piece progresses and the drone becomes a luminous, spherical constant, bathing the listener in pure tone as Weitz draws out harmonically ambiguous melodies that spiral upwards. Electronics crackle and convulse, coalescing into dense dissonance before widening out into an open octave. Just as the moon orbits the Earth and the stars shift as the planet rotates, so each sonic element appears in flux, interrelationships slowly forming and falling away. Divided into two parts, The Sirens flows as a continuous conversation between the artists and the starlight completing its thousand-year journey across the galaxy.

The Sirens belongs primarily to a lineage beyond music: of sea captains navigating by looking skyward, of astrophysicists studying the formation of the Milky Way, of the modern myths of werewolves, of the stories embedded in constellations. As Simon writes in the album’s extensive liner notes, “These stories and explorations reveal a collective yearning to become conscious of our connection to the universe, our deep-seated desire to understand how we fit into it all.” This music underscores the history of the night sky as the place where poetry and science find common ground, where exploration hinges on the imagination. Driven by curiosity and ingenuity, Weitz and Simon look up and wonder.