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Desert Island Broadcast, the new album from Mirror People—the project of Portuguese musician and producer Rui Maia—is out September 26 on vinyl and across all digital platforms. The release is accompanied by the single Any Color U Like, following the earlier teaser track Million Questions, unveiled on May 9.

Described by Maia as “a radio transmission from a desert island—an imaginary space where different styles and references meet and coexist,” the record completes a trilogy begun with Voyager (2015) and Heartbeats Etc. (2022). “I wanted to create an album that felt both familiar and unexpected, like a lost signal reaching the right listener at the right time. It’s a celebration of music as companionship, even in isolated places,” says Maia.

Written between 2022 and 2025, Desert Island Broadcast features longtime collaborators and special guests, including vocalist Rö (Maria do Rosário), percussionist Ryoko Imai, saxophonist João Cabrita, and backing vocalists Ana Vieira and Isa Gomes.

With a career that has resonated both in Portugal and abroad, Mirror People continues to assert its relevance in the independent scene, delivering captivating songwriting and meticulous production.

Mirror People is the alter ego of musician, producer, and DJ Rui Maia, also known as the keyboardist of X-Wife. Conceived as a collaborative project with artists from diverse cultural backgrounds, Mirror People explores the intersections of disco, funk, and electronic music.

diskJokke - Loving HowardCurses - Hell yeah. I vibe with this!
Jorkes - U la la. Thanks so much. superduper <3
Heidi Lawden - Nice release for all moods
Gameboyz - Slow and power. Thanks
Pete Herbert - Yes solid all round!
Chloe - Nice EP
Severino Panzetta (Horse Meat Disco) - Yeeeeees
Xinobi - Lisbon and Porto legends. Super cool tunes
DC Salas - Howard is big!
Mufti - Fantastic EP all around! Howard my favorite
Thomass Jackson - New Ears for me Thanks!

Long time friends and Lisbon-based Mirror People & OITO//OITO for the last 20 years have been lighting up dancefloors all over their native Portugal and beyond, with their passion for eclectic sounds as the main fuel for their sonic mission. ‘MP88’ marks their first EP together. ‘Howard’ opens with rugged 4/4 rhythms, acid squelches and meandering arps to set the tone, ‘New Ears’, takes things on saturated drums & fills, vintage stab sequences and enigmatic strings. Last but not least, is the dropped tempo acidic feel ‘Alive & Kicking’. Another flawless EP in OITO//OITO Discos, limited to 300 copies, this time in Yellow vinyl.

Previously released on CD accompanied by “Gone, Gone Beyond”, “The Mirror” is the
dreamy soundtrack of an a/v project from collage artist extraordinaire Vicki Bennett aka
People Like Us.

With ‘’The Mirror’’ Bennett continues her eternal disassembling of popular music by
exploring how the narrative of familiar sounds/songs can change dramatically under a
new context, with that context always changing, in a never-ending flow.

Each song is singular. And each song is a collage of and undefined number of other
songs from other artists. It sounds familiar because that has been the modus operandi of
People Like Us since the early 1990s. But “The Mirror” plays with the notion of familiar,
driving around a collection of famous pop songs/artists, messing around with the memory
of the listener and, of course, his unique comprehension of those specific songs applied
in a new context.

Because of the use of familiar pop sounds, “The Mirror” is often grandiose. Like an epic
film only with highs, never letting the listener down or letting him doubt the power of pop.
Even, of course, when the coordinates are twisted, mixed, over or underrepresented.
Each moment feels like something that could only happen in a parallel universe.

Although that may sound naïve, it’s just a lost thought of reaction to the beautiful collages
of People Like Us in “The Mirror”. This mirror doesn’t reflect an image of ourselves or an
image of pop. But an image on the way memories drift and are being constant rebuilt. An
unfinished collage.

Mastered by Mark Gergis
Vinyl Cut by Rashad Becker

“When forty, I was still wearing miniskirts, extravagant patterns, pink, fluorescent colours, star shaped earrings. I walked around with my leopardskin hat, my fluffy bag, my floral outfit, until the gaze of others made me feel like it was not age appropriate anymore. Although I am still the same person I was at 16. It's the others I see changing."
There's no better way to describe ageing than through the gap that arises and continues to grow between physical reality and the specular image of the self : one deteriorates over time, exposed to the cruel laws of gravity and oxydation, while the other never ages, remaining intact and unaltered… frozen in a moment of blissfulness. The more time goes by the more the gap becomes a separate entity (ou “world” pour etre plus prosaïque). It can become so painful that many try to escape it, using and abusing every trickery.
“Youth looks so good on you” is a sonic ballad which bizarrely explores the world that lies between reality and self-fantasy, a world where the aesthetic cult of youth becomes sovereign to the people.
This piece was produced in 2022 as part of the Festival « Les Heures Sauvages - Nef des Marges dans l'ombre des certitudes », at the Centre Wallonie-Bruxelles in Paris.
After "A Story of a Global Disease" in 2022, "Youth looks so good on you" is the second piece of music by Naomie Klaus released on moli del tro records.

Chins For Lefty is the debut album and first recording by Gichard, a new duo chronicling the absurdities of end-stage capitalism and mouldering social rituals from their vantage point in Glasgow, Scotland. Recorded primarily in the band’s home studio straight to tape, Chins For Lefty combines gorgeous, ramshackle melody, DIY kosmische punk, drum machine + synth and, in vocalist/lyricist Lisa Jones, an absurdist commentator on the human condition as it navigates the anxieties of the modern world. Instrumentalist Chas Lalli’s swirling music accompaniment stitches an evocative mix of musical styles, the ragged wind beneath the lyrics’ wings.

Although the duo first collaborated in their previous group Dragged Up, their disparate musical and artistic backgrounds make for an alluring mix in Gichard. Lalli has spent the last 20 years in the Glasgow underground, most notably in the noise rock group VOM, while Lisa Jones’s practice was in poetry and spoken word. Beginning as co vocalist in her previous band, in Gichard her lyrics are centre stage; the vision concocted alongside Lalli amounts to a total world-build.

Chins For Lefty scans almost like a novel, with each track elucidating a skewed universe that bears only some resemblance to the one you and I partake in. Like all works of fiction Gichard’s songs are rooted in reality and the lived experiences of its authors, but here characters are exaggerated, social mores and habits are pulled apart to reveal their inherent alienness. Universal emotions are laid bare, the bright light of anxious examination searching out every hairline fracture in our relationships. Distorted and cracked, the mirror that Gichard hold up to our world is also pretty damn funny.

Opener Cholesterol Test launches an expansive, cosmic guitar and synth intro that belies the Tascam-tape recorder it was recorded onto, like a Chromatics cut substituting anxiety for overt sexuality. Here Jones intones an apology to a non-responsive recipient, in the medium of a long voice note forensically deconstructing an interaction from the night before. Over punk guitars and shuffling, lo-fi drum machine splutters, the narrator in Asking The Apes “prefers things to people” before being taken hostage in the city zoo to confess an obsession which consumes the protagonist, ending with the immortal two liner “I sleep in a cocoon of old newspapers at the end of your street / And I think I have been fired from my job,” On album standout Posthumous Hologram, the narrator is faced with a human simulacra, in this case an undead pop star; the face of the encroaching technological singularity. Yes, it does requests, it can do My Way in 200 different language options. But what are the implications? While you’re left pondering, the alternating deadpan verse delivery and undeniably catchy chorus keep you company.

By the time Break Up With Johnny Dogbirth rattles into view, the band are satirising a suburban inanity blown up to cartoon proportions, soundtracked with a drawled musicality that recalls Rowland S. Howard’s post-Birthday Party balladeering. This approach is furthered on Human Resources: over an angular guitar+bass track, Jones’s short story recalls Dry Cleaning’s erudite lyrical post punk. On Soft Face, Lalli’s guitar and drum machine are swathed in echo and delay, as Jones dissects dating rituals with a west of Scotland drollness. Hamming It Up brings a porcine perspective in a short story that begins with the line “I was breastfeeding discreetly in the service station. She didn’t mind.” What follows is a passage punctured with canned laughter and a narrative involving tribute acts, modern farming techniques.

Brilliant first single Your Private Hell closes the album, the closest the group get to earnest perhaps, filtered through a surreal central Scottishness. While Your Private Hell might seem like a sardonic take down of romance, perhaps it’s the very distillation of love in all its awkwardness, selflessness and weirdness. Here there’s a distinctive Glasgow-ness to this doomed romance: the protagonist falls for an outsider, offers them cheap jarred hot dogs and carbolic soap (the infamous, excoriating soap dished out in schools and government buildings throughout Scotland), offers to cover up a murder, stalks them in the all-night Spar. It’s a short story of intrigue, murder and the irresistible pull of self-sacrifice to share in someone else’s suffering. If that’s not love, what is it? You can see this vision mapped out in black and white on their video for 'Your Private Hell'.

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

These days – on the new, ninth Fink album – Greenall is operating within a lineage of authentic, quietly revolutionary artists from England’s verdant southwestern toe. Artists like Michael Chapman. In 1970, the elusive acoustic guitar wizard released an album called Fully Qualified Survivor. The cult-classic served as a lodestar for Greenall – along with bandmates Tim Thornton and Guy Whittaker – as he began jigsawing together The City Is Coming to Erase it All, the follow-up to 2024’s Beauty In Your Wake. He even considered covering a song from it, but in the process, inadvertently stumbled into what became the album’s opener. ‘Wishing For Blue Sky’ circles a universal teenage ache: waiting for life to start. “No point dying of patience” goes the first lyric as crunching footsteps cue a resonant, open-tuned acoustic swaying into view. By 18, Greenall was fed up with waiting, so he left suburban Bristol and saw the world, sending postcards from the edge, waiting tables, squirreling away tips for the next flight. Thornton had similar experiences when the guitarist/drummer busked across Eur

This is nowstalgia more than nostalgia, though; there’s a parallel between these 18-year-olds and Fink’s autumn-aged family men. “You’re expected to be boring and settling down at this age,” Thornton says. “But we’ve still got this tremendous wanderlust. We want to go and discover, and also achieve things. It’s a nice life – home and family – but fuck, I can’t wait to get back out there.” City is a product of this hunger for discovery, and idolatry of the album as a form – like we had in 1974. City’s cover mirrors its interior, the first song is the greeting, the instrumental closer the conclusion. It’s a story. It’s a record for people who, like its creators, are curious. People who happily face a little cold for music, who light a crackling fire back home, who sit with these songs until they’re ready to chase after their own blue sky

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

In spring 2025, Abul Mogard and Rafael Anton Irisarri created the source material for their second album, Where Light Pauses in the Silence of the Sun, during a three-day residency at Morphine Raum in Berlin. Functioning as both recording studio and performance venue, the space has no stage, with the audience gathered around the performers. Working within an open framework, the duo reshaped the music each evening while recording the performances live to multitrack. Rotary speakers, modular synthesizers and bowed guitar formed the core of their sonic language, captured through a 1970s mixing console and microphones placed around the room.

Back in Mogard’s studio in Rome, the material was further crafted as motifs were stretched, fragments isolated, and tempos dissolved. Irisarri recorded additional guitar textures and treatments in New York, while passages recorded by Martina Bertoni and Andrea Burelli in Berlin reinforced the harmonic centres and brought breath, refinement and a new sensibility to their compositions. The process continued as Mogard’s layering and subtraction reassembled everyone’s parts into the final arrangement.

The album opens with “In the Eastern Wild,” building from a sparse outline into a monumental formation of low-frequency weight, its internal motion shaped by the rotating Leslie speaker. “Over the Domes” widens into a broader acoustic field, where sustained modular tones meet waves of softly plucked guitar. The music then turns inward with “A Blue Descent,” centred on Bertoni’s cello, whose growling timbre introduces a melancholic depth.

At the album’s centre, “In a Quiet Radiance” unfolds around a slow guitar ostinato, its luminous stillness opening into a more expansive and reflective state. Across its ten-minute span, Burelli’s violin lines and Bertoni’s lower cello phrases gradually surface, weaving through the harmonic field. Mogard brings Burelli’s processed voice to the fore, its emotive, operatic presence becoming one of the record’s pivotal moments. “Of Blessed Ages” suspends the sonic flow, shifting between parallel major and minor chords as lingering, slowly decaying melodies shape the music’s internal drift. The closing “Among Shadows” settles into a darker resonance as layered textures recede.

Mogard and Irisarri’s shared language balances restraint and maximalism. UK magazine Crack describes the music as “a tidal wave held in suspension,” while Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant writes, “What a colossal sound, and how this music strikes at the emotions.” Reflecting on the residency sessions, Irisarri recalls: “At moments I genuinely couldn’t tell if a sound was coming from me or from Abul. It stopped feeling like two people making decisions and began to feel like we were inside a system moving on its own."

Marja de Sanctis’ cover artwork revisits the vessel sculpture from the duo’s first album, Impossibly Distant, Impossibly Close. There it appeared as raw, unfired clay. Here it has been fired in the kiln and finished with a glaze. Light gathers on its polished surface and spills into the surrounding space. As she explains, “I wanted to convey the idea of continuity within the duo, and the vessel became a kind of container for that idea. However, their music felt different this time, and with the collaboration of Martina and Andrea, I felt it should have a sleeker, softer, more glamorous look, very distant from the first raw appearance.” The transformation of the vessel from raw clay to fired form suggests a passage from immediacy toward permanence, mirroring the music’s gradual expansion.

At the core of the creative process behind “HPC” and “Bor3d” lies meta-irony, a quality that permeates much of today’s digital content landscape.

Both tracks are a deliberate attempt to push the sound toward a barely perceptible absurdity and ironic unseriousness in their interpretation of well-familiar styles of dance club music. It is a play with form, expectation, and recognizability — balancing sincerity with sarcastic exaggeration.

Okay
Okay is built around interruption. Voices, fragments of dialogue, yawns, irritation — people seem to step inside the track uninvited. Someone is bored, someone is annoyed, someone tries to stop the flow entirely. Just like in real life, the process is constantly disrupted. The track reflects the experience of being surrounded by opinions, noise, and skepticism — especially the kind that will never be convinced, no matter what you do. “Okay” becomes a quiet, ironic response to this pressure: not agreement, not approval, but endurance. The track continues anyway.

Tripatura
Tripatura is a fictional creature — a warped echo of cryptid mythology. In this narrative, Tripatura doesn’t simply exist, it hunts. Once it finds you, it drags you into an endless trip with no exit point. Time stretches, perception blurs, and the track itself becomes the trap. Its prolonged, unresolved ending mirrors the experience of being stuck inside a loop that refuses closure. Tripatura doesn’t rush. It lingers, slowly pulling you deeper, until the trip no longer feels temporary.

After the acclaimed Bar Mediterraneo, Massimo Di Lena and Lucio Aquilina return with a new album that broadens the scope of their sound even further, sailing beyond the Pillars of Hercules into a constellation of gravity-defying creative freedom.

People Of The Moon is not an imagined cosmic species, but a dimension within us all. Deeply personal yet universally shared. An alternative way of thinking that lays dormant until we find the courage to untether it, helping us experience life more fully. It is that precious sphere of the soul that slips away from everyday life. A form of self-expression free from the social pressures that weigh on each, at every latitude on the planet.

Under the moonlight, these songs trace anxieties and aspirations, guided by the international language of groove and rhythmic motion, articulated in Neapolitan, Arabic, English, Spanish, and Portuguese. It speaks with equal clarity through the Afro-Cuban influences of Celavì (“That’s Life”), with its circular rhythmic energy, and through the Anatolian zurna of Ma Tu Che Bbuò (“What Do You Want?” in Neapolitan), moving from highlife guitars to the mandolins that have become a Nu Genea signature. New idioms and rhythms, filtered through an Italian perspective.

The first single Sciallà (“Go Away” in Neapolitan), released in the summer of 2025, already hinted at what was taking shape in the Nu Genea workshop - a radiant guide to embracing difficulty and finding relief in dance. Not so much an escape, but a form of catharsis. Looking up at the giant mirror ball orbiting above us, we catch a glimpse of our best selves reflected back, and appreciate that the People Of The Moon invoked in the title track are more familiar than we first realised.

There’s a kind of resilience in these voices that isn’t loud or triumphant, but persistent and rooted in the simple act of continuing. The imagery of high-speed motion is central to Onenon (“On and On”), where British singer and multi-instrumentalist Tom Misch helps conjure a Mediterranean brit-funk reminiscent of Pino D’Angiò’s basslines.

The voice in Acelera (“Speed Up” in Spanish) summons the strength to chase the moon as if it were an unattainable ideal, in this Andalusian-tinged track featuring María José Llergo, who also lends her voice to Celavì. Both tracks are among the more languorous arrangements, with flamenco palmas introducing an original fusion into the Nu Genea groove.
With its driving momentum, Puleza (“Clean Up” in Neapolitan) recalls the spirit of Nuova Napoli, albeit with vintage synth textures and wild, unrestrained delays. The track’s protagonist, performed by Fabiana Martone, is another of our lunar dwellers.

Yet even when it leans into forward motion, People Of The Moon doesn’t pulse at a frantic pace, moving instead through shifting states of speed, orbit, and suspension. In fact, the Levantine bossa nova Shway Shway (“Slowly, Slowly” in Arabic), sung by Celinatique, captures the orbital motion of the entire record. Not exactly slow, but measured. Rich in color, and marked by a rhythmic complexity that was also heard on the duo’s rare access to foundational afrobeat on The Tony Allen Experiments.
All the while, the album remains deeply attuned to melody - a Nu Genea hallmark - as heard in the effervescent hook of Carè (“Falling” in Neapolitan). In the lunar microgravity of these ten tracks, falling and flying become interchangeable with dancing as ways of following the beat, suspended yet compelled to move. That compulsion is also invoked by Brazilian percussionist Gabriel Prado, making his vocal debut on Ondas Do Mar (“Waves Of The Sea” in Portuguese). The pull of the waves, a constant interplay of motion and return, steady as a lunar phase, is impossible to resist. One might as well lean into the blue, not to dissolve but to rebuild. “Você vai ver que dentro de nós / vai rolar”: you’ll see that something will happen within us.

2 x catastrophic cosmic chronic compositions from the 2016 psychic mirrors debut album. re-mastered loud for 7" club play. brought to you by Amnisa & PPU records.

includes 5x7 promo photo postcard.

Hot on the heels of Luv (LuvLuv) comes a sublime new Drum Chums from midland's madlads Wrekin Havoc.
Over the years we've shared great tunes, fun times and A-grade dance floor debauchery with these permanent party people (our first encounter almost exactly like that Spiderman pointing meme) so it made more sense than we usually do to invite them aboard the V*nga bus for some Balearic-Disco edit excellence.

Things kick off with the sexy throb of 'Shine A Light', a stonewashed funk workout complete with Paisley guitars, Troutman bass grunts and some big time blue-eyed soul vocals. It's a bit like an extended and unheard collaboration between George Michael and Tears For Fears recorded immediately after a particularly heavy night at Future. Unsurprising perhaps that this one's been getting a whole lot of love from DJ Harvey.

'Mars Bar Party' grabs you by the hips from the first bar of its swaying Mediterranean house rhythm, then tugs at every single one of your heartstrings with melancholic pads and a silken vocal croon. Fuuuuuuckin' hell! Sorry, was totally bewitched by the primal power of piano house magic - it's like John Rocca was in the room for a second. Armed with an awesome arrangement and clocking in at ten massive minutes, this may be the ultimate Balearic house journey.

If all this wasn't enough to have you stocking up on 5-HTP and sinus rinse, those crafty cats close the set out with the shimmering disco euphoria of 'Leccy Meet Her'. The bottom end pulses endlessly, Cowley synths trill and a crystal clear Vox soar above, sending us far off into mirrorball orbit. If this isn't a hit at Horse Meat, we'll neck a bottle of poppers and never eat a tomato again.

Each and every track Wrekin Havoc touch is a pearler, but we're particularly chuffed with ourselves for snapping this top trio up.

100% Drum Fun Guaranteed. .

Following the acclaimed reissue of Sa Discossa earlier this year, Jo Tongo's third solo album Those Flowers returns to the spotlight.

Originally released just a year and a half after Sa Discossa, this 1982 gem came out on the small Context label and, in Tongo's own words, the two records are "like twins." Recorded with many of the same musicians, Those Flowers continues the vibrant fusion of disco-funk and reggae - this time dedicating one side to each, leaning slightly more into his Western influences.

But there's more than groove beneath the surface. Tracks like "People Need Peace" and "We Human Beings" channel his enduring themes of resistance, identity, and freedom. The synthesizer at the beginning of the song mimics the ominous drone of warplanes, and lyrics speak directly to global struggles - reminders that his music is both deeply personal and powerfully political. "I paid for these ideals in my career," Tongo reflects, alluding to the personal costs of his outspoken stance against colonialism and injustice.

Still, Those Flowers carries joy at its heart. Songs like "Ain't No Man Like A Real Friend" celebrate trust and loyalty, while the title track offers a tender ode to love and kindness - "picking flowers from the soul," as Tongo puts it. These songs reveal the inner world of a man who has always viewed music as a mirror of life.

This reissue marks the second installment in the African Edge series from The Outer Edge label. Fully restored and remastered, Those Flowers is now set to bloom again - another vital chapter in the legacy of Jo Tongo.

Various Small Whistles and a Song, the new album by Chicago-based artist Lia Kohl, incorporates notions of space, social relations, and humor. As the title suggests, the album responds to Ed Ruscha’s 1964 photographic artist book Various Small Fires and Milk, which Kohl sees as a wondrous celebration of ordinariness, one that reveals Ruscha’s trademark deadpan humor and depth. In the spirit of that publication, Kohl created her own series of sonic vignettes, with guest appearances from her close community of collaborators including claire rousay, Macie Stewart, Patrick Shiroishi, and others, reflecting the same sense of humor and mundanity.

The structure of the album—16 one-minute tracks—directly mirrors Ruscha’s book, which comprises 15 photographs of fire and one of a glass of milk. Ruscha’s “small fires” are represented here by recordings of whistles—mostly human whistling, with occasional appearances by train whistles, emergency whistles, and a woman selling penny whistles on the street in Guangzhou, China. About this choice of material, Kohl writes: “I’ve always been captivated by whistling—it’s musical but often a bit unconscious; usually solo but often done in public places. There’s something tender and human about hearing someone whistle, a socially acceptable version of hearing their mind wander.” As with Ruscha’s photographs, the whistles are not random snapshots but windows into social situations, narratives, or spaces.

The “milk” of the title — the 16th photograph in Ruscha’s book — is interpreted here as a single recording: a group of people singing together in Barcelona around 6 a.m. on New Year’s morning, captured through the floor of an Airbnb. Kohl describes this as a social, collective sound that contrasts with the solitary nature of whistling. The song functions as a counterbalance—a quiet celebration of shared experience.

Lia Kohl is a composer and sound artist based in Chicago. Her wide-ranging practice includes composition and performance, installation, improvisation, and collaboration. She tours nationally and internationally, working in theater, jazz, rock, and experimental contexts. Her work centers curiosity and patience, an exploration of the mundane and profound possibilities of sound.

When people think of Yacht Rock-those smooth, sun-drenched sounds that once drifted from Californian radio stations in the late '70s and early '80s-they rarely imagine it echoing through rehearsal rooms in Hamburg or Linz. Yet even far from the Pacific coastline, the appeal of shimmering chords, laid-back grooves, and polished production found fertile ground.
This compilation gathers rare and overlooked tracks from Germany and Austria. These artists embraced West Coast aesthetics with sincerity and subtle twists, resulting in music that feels both familiar and refreshingly new-smooth sounds for cloudy skies. So drop anchor, pour something cool, and enjoy this unexpected cruise through the lesser-charted waters of Euro Yacht Rock.

Our journey begins in Austria, where Reflection's Because (1981) set the tone with blue-eyed soul and analogue warmth-a sunlit blend of Doobie Brothers polish and local charm. Its creator, Dieter Heyduk, reappears with Austrian Sky, a heartfelt nod to his homeland that fuses mountain calm with oceanic longing.
From the North Sea island of Föhr, Ara Pacis dreamed of California on their 1979 self-release To the Westcoast. Inspired by Steely Dan and Lake, they turned German rock precision into breezy, melodic sophistication. Meanwhile, in Düsseldorf, Mainpoint fused funk and jazz-rock on Frisbee, their 1980 single bursting with rhythmic drive and optimism before the tide of the Neue Deutsche Welle swept such grooves aside.
Bremerhaven's Nuages offered the compilation's only instrumental gem, Strange Weekend (1985)-a gentle blend of jazz-funk and rock and largely lost to time. Its cool restraint captures the European interpretation of Californian ease.
Around the same period, British traveler Gavin James recorded River of Laughter in southern Germany, backed by the blues-rock band Black Cat Bone. His acoustic reflections on water and flow mirrored the soft, meditative pulse at Yacht Rock's core.
Berlin's Top Spin kept things playful with Bikin (1985), a funk-fusion snapshot of urban joy that showcased the city's finest session players. From the Ruhr area, the Jan Pack Band is up next. While not a typical Yacht Rock track, Cable Dance is driven by an effortless, groovy '80s vibe.
Peter Seiler's Goldfinger project reimagined Walkin' in the Sand as a relaxed reggae-tinged track, while Munich's Major Seven closed the voyage with Silverboat, a wistful soft rock ballad gliding between melancholy and light.

Across these hidden harbors of German and Austrian pop, the West Coast dream took on new forms-reflected in rivers, skies, and studio lights half a world away from L.A. Under and Above the Clouds celebrates that spirit: the enduring pull of smooth music, wherever it's made.

This album is not just a homage — it’s a gentle act of remembrance. A way of tuning in to what Lucier showed us: that listening is an art in itself. A meditation on resonance, memory, and the quiet power of pure sound. Or to quote Alvin Lucier himself: “I guess I’m trying to help people hold shells up to their ears, and listen to the ocean again.”

The influence of Alvin Lucier’s work on acoustic phenomena and the interplay between sound and space is difficult to overstate. His legacy continues to echo through the work of countless composers and sound artists today. Lucier’s music is marked by a sense of childlike wonder and sonic simplicity - shifting our perception from what we hear to how we listen.

At the heart of his compositions lies the sine wave: the purest, most elemental form of sound. Clarinetist Dries Tack pays tribute to this master of minimalism with an album centered around two works Lucier composed as intimate ‘In Memoriams’ for friends. Both pieces explore a single, elegant idea: the interaction between an instrumental tone and a sine wave.

Out of that interaction, ‘beatings’ emerge — a pulsating rhythm that accelerates or decelerates as the waves draw nearer or drift apart. Though built on the same concept, the two works are like mirrored reflections of one another: In Memoriam Jon Higgins, the sine wave glides in a slow glissando while the clarinet holds steady tones. In Memoriam Stuart Marshall, it’s the clarinet that dances around a fixed sine wave.

Dries Tack is a clarinetist specializing in contemporary performance practices. He performs with ensembles such as Nadar Ensemble, Curious Chamber Players, and Ensemble Fractales. As co-artistic director of the GLoW Collective, he explores collaborative practices across artistic disciplines in the broadest sense. In addition to his ensemble work, Dries curates solo projects that offer fresh perspectives on existing repertoire or give rise to entirely new works at the intersection of composition and improvisation.

Following up a string of releases on labels such as Mana, Sun Ark, Orange Milk Records and Abyss, Other People are honoured to present the new album Fobia by Argentinian musician and sound artist aylu, real name Ailin Grad. Inspired in part of Grad's many collaborative projects over the last few years, Fobia sees her collecting and rearranging the music and sounds fostered within these to create an intimate, spiritually charged album that turns personal struggle into collective resistance and resilience. What initially started as a way for Grad to process her own experiences with agora- and claustrophobia, and an attempt to navigate feelings of shame and a perceived demand to keep these feelings bottled up and hidden from the world, she began to realise how mental health struggles are not isolated incidents but part of broader systems of collective suffering and injustice. “It took a long time for me to discover that my issues were part of a system that produces these kinds of symptoms and that it takes a lot of courage to find a way around them. I have the feeling that more and more people suffer from these kind of things in some way or another, and what was at first taught as something you should be silent about and keep private, I discovered that the more you talk about it and share it with people you trust, the more you realise that it’s part of something much bigger.” This tension and constant pull between fear and joy, light and dark, is present throughout the album. From the strained breathing featured in opening track Yodo echoing the suffocating feeling from claustrophobia interspersed with the lighter textures of Obelisco Elysium and Prospero offering up a sense of relief, to the almost cacophonous, immersive soundscapes of El Sol Mal, mirroring the complex, often contradictory emotions when navigating mental health challenges. Fobia invites listeners to move through pain with honesty, finding strength in shared experiences.

Makhunik Records Presents: "Withdrawals" - A Bold New Vinyl Release by RAKANS Withdrawals, the highly anticipated follow-up to Emergence EP and Deep State (Midnight Stallion) EP, marks a bold new chapter in RAKANS's ever-evolving sonic journey.

Set for release on I Makhunik Records, Withdrawals explores the tension between desire and detachment, featuring five tracks that blur the lines between electronic, experimental, and club sounds. Available on vinyl, Withdrawals invites listeners to experience the raw and intimate emotions that inspired its creation. Following the success of Emergence EP (Gently Leftfield Techno from a Core Dresden Artist - Resident Advisor/Single Review by Andrew Ryce) and Deep State (Midnight Stallion) EP on Boudica, which gained recognition for their atmospheric intricacies and deep, immersive textures, Withdrawals delves deeper into personal and societal themes, paired with the artist's signature ethereal soundscapes and captivating beats. Each track carries a narrative, from late-night reflection to hedonistic encounters, with a pulsating intensity that mirrors the artist's own process of creative and emotional release. With Withdrawals, RAKANS continues to push boundaries, creating a profound listening experience that resonates both in its melancholy and its intensity.

Description of the Title: The title Withdrawals reflects a state of emotional and mental transition, where one is caught between the craving for connection and the unsettling effects of isolation. It symbolizes the artist's inner turmoil and process of reclaiming personal agency after experiences of burnout and separation. The tracks are an expression of that journey-tracking the highs and lows of life in a world that constantly demands more. Through these melodies, RAKANS has captured the intensity of longing and the aftermath of desire, inviting listeners to confront their own internal conflicts. The narrative is personal yet universally relatable, and the title speaks to the often painful but necessary process of letting go, detoxifying from past habits, and learning to be at peace with oneself. "With Withdrawals, He wanted to channel the emotions that often come from the struggle between desire and self-preservation, between the drive to connect and the need to retreat. he's journey, both as an artist and as an individual, has been filled with moments of intense reflection, self-discovery, and sometimes, disconnection.

These tracks are the culmination of that inner conflict, a raw exploration of what it means to both lose oneself and find a deeper, often painful, form of clarity. Like the music he's created before, the sound of Withdrawals speaks to the space between tension and release, the liminal space where truth is often revealed in its most vulnerable form. He's always believed that music is a mirror to the soul, and in this EP, He's tried to reflect that feeling of being both pulled in and out of something greater. It's a raw and intimate look at the way we navigate modern life, often feeling like we're running toward something that we can't quite reach, yet constantly pulled back into our own personal truths.

This EP is personal, but it's also for anyone who's ever felt caught between two worlds, the one they want and the one they need. I hope it resonates with listeners who are experiencing their own form of withdrawal, whether it's from people, places, or even from themselves.

Facta returns to Wisdom Teeth with ‘GULP’: a zippy, hi-def mini-album full of scrambled vocals, blown-out basslines, dripping synths and spring-loaded grooves that together map out his playfully psychedelic corner of contemporary club music. Written in a quick creative burst in late 2024, the record brings together a range of the producer’s distinct creative strands into a sharp, cohesive whole. Sitting snugly within the stylistic niche carved out by his A&Ring and DJ sets (alongside label co-founder K-LONE), we hear the influence of 00’s minimal, tech house, UK soundsystem music, ambient electronica, dub and more rubbing shoulders in a way that feels effortless and personal. Many of the tracks began life as sketches penned on the road - dotting between festivals, European club shows, and on tour in Japan - and so the record carries with it a sense of movement and forward momentum, and feels populated by voices, memories, people and places.

The Londoner’s characteristic approach to sound design and genre interplay are on full display here. Generative vocal hooks melt and warp into strange fluid forms, while synths stretch, detune, bend and dissolve into space before snapping back into shape again. Keyboards mirror human vocal formants, forming melodies that feel at once organic and alien. Basslines warp and distort, as if being re-moulded out of different synthetic properties.

Across the record there’s a commitment to expressing simple or familiar ideas in new and unexpected ways, whilst experimentations and innovations are presented clearly and intuitively. Cherished genre references are lovingly deployed as personal touchstones across the record - bleeping minimal- and tech-house; breakbeat dubstep and funky; Chicago house; dub techno - yet sounds and influences are combined and meshed in unexpected ways. Each track is tightly engineered and reduced down to its key elements, which are then manipulated, flipped, warped and pushed to breaking point. As is typical of Facta’s music, uncanny contrasts are worked throughout the music in unexpected ways. Warm, balmy moods come laced with seams of tension or uncertainty, whilst the record’s darker moments are handled with a light, playful touch.

With 15 years experience writing, DJing and A&Ring under his belt, ‘GULP’ is testament to Facta’s love of creation and curation - of seeking out, absorbing, experimenting, and channeling new sounds to create your own sonic world. A record borne of playful experimentation and happy accidents, ‘GULP’ shines bright with a simple, pure energy - a testament to writing quickly and intuitively and, above all else, enjoying the process.

The album’s artwork features photography by award-winning Boston-based photographer, Pelle Cass, whose complex time-lapse composites present hyperreal yet impossible tableaus of seemingly simple everyday scenes - an approach that parallels the record’s blurring of the familiar and the unfamiliar. Cass’s work has been widely exhibited, collected, and published, including solo shows at Gallery Kayafas, Boston, the Photographic Resource Center, Boston, and the Houston Center for Photography, and in collections such as the Fogg Art Museum, the Peabody Essex Museum, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. He was twice a Critical Mass Top 50 photographer and has received two fellowships from Yaddo and one from the Berkshire Taconic Foundation.

he initial seed for this project was planted in 2020 when Nicolás Jaar wrote the song “Piedras” for a concert at the Museum of Memory & Human Rights in Santiago, Chile, which commemorates the victims of human rights violations during the military dictatorship led by Augusto Pinochet between 1973 and 1990. Between 2022-2023 it took on a new form as a radio play entitled 'Archivos de Radio Piedras', which was shared on a dedicated Telegram channel. In 2024, the play was converted into a 24 channel installation at the University Museum of Mexico City (MUAC), where it was exhibited for 5 months.

Piedras 1 and 2 is a collection of the tracks featured within the play, all new music by Jaar, but partly presented within the play as the music of Salinas Hasbún (the name a composite homage to Jaar's grandmothers, Graciela Salinas and Miriam Hasbún).

The play follows two friends mourning the disappearance of Salinas Hasbún, a musician and writer who vanished in the early 2020s. Although they live in a future where technology is advanced, they
resort to DIY radio methods because the anonymous group “Las 0cho” has launched a worldwide attack on undersea internet cables, causing a global internet blackout.

The play's central theme revolves around the idea that truths, memories and identities speak from the cracks (“rasgaduras”), or the "in-between" spaces ("en el entre"). This concept is supported by the
way much of the narration unfolds - in the liminal spaces between radio frequencies. The instability and transitory nature of a constantly shifting radio dial becomes not just a metaphor but the structure of the play itself. It’s in these moments of noise, static and interference that the deeper revelations of the story emerge. This disjointed, ever-changing medium mirrors the way memory and trauma operate within the play - non-linear, slipping through the gaps, found in fragments or ordinary moments, rather than direct transmissions of “official” historical accounts.

This notion reaches its climax at the end of the narrative, when a text is discovered in which Salinas speaks of finding a new number in a small pond in a cave mentioned in the first episodes of the radio play. This pond, inside the “cochlea of the world”, is seen as a way to introduce real-life randomness to computation. Embodied in the salt lakes of northern Chile, home to the world’s oldest bacteria, this randomness disrupts the rigid order of binary code, paving the way for a transformation of digital life.

First solo release by Nicolás Jaar since 2020’s Telas and Cenizas.

Full of bounce and experimentation in equal measure, ‘Triple Transit,’ Braille’s new album for Hotflush is about leaving his Sepalcure project (with Machinedrum) in the rear mirror, moving back to New York and using its energy to fuel new moves, confronting our hyper layered world and overcoming personal difficulties by being creative.

Focused squarely on utilising modular synthesis in sprawling studio sessions, the album covers a wide stylistic range and draws on the artist’s formidable battery of experience to craft a body of work that packs real emotional punch as well as a dancefloor sensibility.

We had a quick chat with him to wet your appetite…

Praveen Sharma aka Braille:
Moving on from Sepalcure
“That period of time when Sepalcure was at its peak was really inspiring. I’m still really in awe and humbled by the fans. It’s always amazing to hear about how music you’ve made has brightened up other people’s lives in some way, but ‘Triple Transit’ is really about transitioning from that period to something new. I’m intentionally not using many vocal samples on this album. That became quite a crutch for Sepalcure and I wanted to try and find ways to evoke those emotions and connect with the audience in other ways.”

The roots of his Bounce
‘Sour Patch Kiss’ and ‘While We’re Free’ are inspired by classic house and some early Detroit stuff. Songs like ‘Big Fun’ (Inner City), ‘I Wanna Be there’ (Model 500) and slowed down ‘Sex on The Beach’ (DJ Assault) have stuck with me since the beginning. I used to listen to this slowed down and doubled version of ‘Sex on The Beach’ on an early Juan Atkins mix cd on REPEAT when I was in high school.

Getting ambient
Triple Transit slows down and transitions through a bit of sadness and eventually acceptance at the end of the album. A lot of the music I’m making these days is trying to recreate that manic feeling so many of us have in 2024. Between social media, ridiculous hustle culture expectations and depressing global and national political events, it’s hard to not feel overwhelmed. I feel like Triple Transit is kind of a parabolic curve from mania to joy to a sober realization that yeah, actually the world is just fucked but somehow we carry on.

Having transitioned between London, Lisbon and back again as a DJ and producer, as well as across the world as the drummer in beloved pop group, Metronomy, Anna Prior remains an essential and independent force in alternative and electronic music culture. The current epicentre of this creativity is undoubtedly Prior’s own label, Beat Palace. Established in 2021, it has showcased the talent and diversity of FLINTA producers carving an esoteric space within alt-pop and electronic music.

Returning to the imprint for the first time since its inception, Anna Prior utilises this vital platform to refine her own craft across the five-track ‘Firefly’ EP, exploring new moods and styles, balancing playfulness with vulnerability, shadow and light. Prior describes ‘Firefly’ as, “a collection of moments - some fleeting and some stubbornly lingering.... Each track came together almost by accident, but now feels to me like they've always belonged together.”

Lead single ‘True For You’ pulsates with soft euphoria, as Prior weaves softly cascading synths with her own earnest declarations, composing a sensual, sophisticated drama about “letting other people's differing truths sit alongside your own” that nonetheless carries a distinct club energy. In contrast, title track ‘Firefly’, written alongside co-producer Matt Karmil, unfolds as a spoken-word piece, investigating memory, “the tricky mirror that reveals more than it conceals”. Throughout, Prior’s inquisitive, native Yorkshire accent anchors a wide-eyed soundscape that gradually, impressively escalates into the cinematic.

Centerpiece track ‘Silence’ turns this approach inside out, escalating the tempo and revealing a DnB-influenced shade of Prior’s work that is certain to surprise and impress, scattering elegant syllables amongst serious soundsystem pressure as Prior navigates the feeling of being ghosted; by friends, lovers and even her own work. ‘No More Drama’ returns to pop, presenting a bold cover of Mary J. Blige’s classic that inverts the original’s unmatched intensity for a more serene, but no less affecting rendition.

Finally, ‘Beside You’ delivers one last, sublime blend of Prior’s songwriting and sequencing instincts, a simple pop incantation that coaxes dancers into a soft trance while concluding with a reminder from Prior that “amid life’s unanswered calls and fleeting highs, there is always space to feel safe and unjudged.” Concluding this sublime EP, Prior finds new ground to settle into her talents.

Intricate structures with an intertwining of spontaneity and randomness, meeting the diverse genre influences of the band members from mediaeval music to shoegaze to noise. That is Unravel, the new album, and first in six years, from Czech band Manon Meurt.
"Unravel reflects the different stages of dissociation, a person's thoughts, observations - whether of the environment or of oneself - and admiration for the beauty and cruelty that nature mirrors," multi-instrumentalist and lyricist Kateřina Elznicová says of the album.
Produced by Eddie Stevens (Freakpower, Zero 7, Moloko, Roisin Murphy) the album was pieced together from recorded fragments, meticulously pieced together. The title Unravel refers to the development of the band, unravelling what they are to find the full potential of their music as well as uncovering the layered nature of the songs and emotions.
"Eddie Stevens’ approach to recording was a big surprise. We understood that there was no one right version of the songs. Each of our themes carries a certain energy that can manifest and blossom in many ways. Compared to previous records, the vision of each member was much more evident, while we learned not to cling to our individual ideas of a signifying break or a nu-metal bounce at the end of an ambient song. The main thing was a common concept," adds keyboardist David Tichý on creating the seven songs on the record.
Abum producer Eddie Stevens describes the collaboration, “Each album is an adventure. You do some preparation, check the route over and over, prepare for any eventuality that your packing space and imagination will allow, plan some places to stop and rest en route, places to eat, sleep, then consider the challenges - the ice wall, the summit, even just finding your way in foreign land. But despite all that planning, you can never really say for sure what’s going to happen, what unexpected path you might take, what strangers might invite you in for a cup of tea and to what ends. So it was making Unravel with Manon Meurt and engineer and studio owner Lukas Martinek at Svárov studios and of course back home in the relative safety of my studio. Musicians who quickly became friends showed me more than I showed them, people with ideas, with creativity seeping from their pores. Music making the right way: no blinkers, no walls, no preconceptions, no barriers, no rules. What a pleasure, and what a magical, technicoloured,
kaleidoscopic album we’ve made together, “
The combination of industrial material with plant motifs in the work Untitled_1 by Ukrainian artist Liza Libenko, which adorns the cover of Unravel, strongly attracted the band. After all, floral motifs have always been close to Manon Meurt's music. Libenko, a student of the Academy of Fine Arts and a finalist of the prestigious Austrian Strabag Artaward International Prize, has recently been working on overcoming the narrative boundaries of the canvas, the paintings "attack"the viewer. Sunflowers are a powerful symbol of life and the sun; in Libenko's paintings they are black and burnt, serving as an allegory for contemporary conditions. The work was photographed by photographer and artist Marcel Rozhoň, and the final processing of the Unravel album was done by graphic artist Zuzana Malá.

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera is one of the most celebrated musicals of all time, and this original London cast recording from 1986 remains the definitive recording. Michael Crawford’s Tony Award-winning performance as The Phantom and Sarah Brightman’s portrayal of Christine Daaé helped make this the best-selling cast recording in history. Re-issued for the first time in decades, this classic album brings the unforgettable score to a new generation of listeners. From the title song to “The Music of the Night” and “All I Ask of You,” every track reflects the power and beauty that continue to make The Phantom of the Opera a global phenomenon nearly forty years after its debut. Since its premiere, The Phantom of the Opera has been seen by more than 160 million people in 195 cities and has received over 70 major theatre awards. It holds the record as the longest-running show in Broadway history and was the first British musical to debut at number one on the music charts. The recording has been certified Platinum in six countries.

2026 Repress

Flickering in ultraviolet, there is an elusive place where blue pill meets red, ups become downs, and day merges with night. Those liminal spaces where anything is possible is where you’ll find Nightbus and their hypnotic debut album Passenger. Doom, uncertainty, and opportunity lurk in the shadowy corners of their murky existence with stops at disassociation, co-dependency, and addiction before reaching its final destination - a glimmer of hope.

The in-between of Nightbus’ own Gotham lies where Manchester’s city pulse meets Stockport’s outer realm. An audio-visual entity formed among a musical family of friends, freaks, and foes in messy mills and after hours on dancefloors alike, their sound bleeds from tension where collective creative forces are bound together and collide with the fallout of being torn apart. Before even playing a show, their So Young released single ‘Mirrors’ – a knowing nod of respect to some well-known gloomy Northerners - may have made old school indie heads shimmy at shows in Salford’s The White Hotel but also signalled the duo’s knack for offering listeners a Bandersnatch approach to hitchhiking their own personal Nightbus in whatever direction they choose to take. “Everyone can have their moment with our songs; the music is our response to who we are as young people, living in the city full of this energy right now,” they say.

Whilst reverb hefty melodies and dread-filled loops embody isolation from writing at each of their home studio set-ups, magic happens in the ether across 90s trip-hop, indie sleaze and electronica; Jake’s production layers Olive’s pop sentimentality with drums and samples whilst tales of a cast of faceless characters place Olive as puppet master; her severed self’s perspective manipulating their stringed limbs at arm’s length to see how their stories play out when scenes reflecting her own lie close to the bone. “It’s a bit fucked; like having this out of body experience with a made-up movie running through my head,” she says. “As I write I can see they’re all from a similar world, but they allow me to explore different feelings without giving away part of myself.”

Recorded at The Nave in Leeds with producer-engineer Alex Greaves (Heavy Lungs, Working Men’s Club), surprise and danger lies in every crevice. Brooding whispers turn to chants on 6-minute opus ‘Host.’ Improvised when performed live, its immersive shift in tempo leads to hefty dub courtesy of Jake’s pedals. Even then, you won’t know shit’s hit the fan until its mid-point reveal when ominous bass blasts a thunderous soundtrack as its protagonist defiantly walks away after committing the perfect crime. “It makes you wait, and more songs should have sirens,” Olive grins.

Leaning deeper into alter-egos via the video game-psychological horror of a Silent Hill dystopia, the band’s Fight Club moment ‘Angles Mortz’ turns its literal translation of death angles on its head as it reflects upon kink and internalised shame reincarnated as pride. Elsewhere the ice cool ‘Landslide’ is a Requiem for a Dream about the addiction of being in a band; ‘The Void’ explores co-dependency and estranged relationships; and carefully selected samples revive house track ‘Just A Kid’ from the band’s early incarnation. Passenger’s every direction is to face challenges head on. “That is what’s so great about horror; you can see through predictable patterns so when the unexpected occurs it's more realistic and uncomfortable… I want to own the dark stuff!”

As for Passenger’s first single, the pulsating ‘Ascension’ is a spiralling deep dive into death, suicide, and legacy around who or what we leave behind. A noughties club banger by way of NYC beats - ergonomically designed for those who like to stay out a little too often and too late - it throbs like a house party’s partition wall as the literal levelling up undergoes a neon transformation; blue glitching to pink, diffusing the white construct of the Nightbus Matrix. “It really does feel like the end of something and was purposely written that way,” they say, “the ascension is like a firework going off!”

With wheels in motion, Nightbus has become a movement surpassing sonic realms. Between shows from Porto to Brighton taking in The Great Escape, Rotterdam’s Left Of The Dial and Paris’ Supersonic; DJing; remixing; guesting (BDRMM’s Microtonic album); and even enlisting talented like-minds to craft a 3-part queer coming-of-age music video series which ties in with a new ‘hyperpop’ phase in the evolution of their popular Nightbus Soundsystem club night, heads are now being turned from sports brands to high-end fashion designers. “There are things we can’t reveal just yet,” tells Olive, “but we’re excited about the direction this beast we’ve created is heading.” As the album philosophises and asks one ultimate question; what does it truly mean to be ‘Passenger’? Nightbus may not claim to offer a definitive answer, but it might make you feel a bit better about those demons.

NPVR is the avant garde duo made up of the late Peter Rehberg and Nik Void. Editions Mego is proud to present their second and final release. No this is not some kind of Beatles synthetic AI that raises the dead reconstructed recordings but rather a new album made by the humans and their machines.

The initial meeting of Rehberg and Void was in London in 2016 and despite or due to their mutual awkwardness found solace and compatibility in the fact that they both had a similar electronic modular set up, along with matching cases to transport all. The idea to collaborate was an obvious and organic process as a means to connect their individual gear together and observe the outcome. The fruits of these initial experiments, recorded in London, resulted in the playful experimentation of their acclaimed 2017 release 33 33 (eMego 251).

Now in 2024 Editions Mego presents the logically titled follow up, 33 34. These sessions were recorded six months after the initial recordings at Peter’s home in Vienna. This was planned out as a mirror city release to the original London recordings. With Peter having access to his full studio set up this time around we encounter a rich audio landscape which organically folds together a variety of musical genres blurring any distinction between these forms so the resulting music hovers as a new cloud of sound. Any musical form, be it industrial, electro-acoustic, ambient, drone and techno all coexist and melt into the other as the ensuing result unveils a hypnotic swarm of divergent sounds (music). When active there were no lines or contexts with NPVR, either between sound or genre within these recordings or live where NPVR were at home playing at a techno club one night and an avant garde venue the next.

The initial session of these recordings was edited by Rehberg and sent to Void to further develop. Over time the final versions were agreed on and then shelved as other outside projects took over. The awkwardness had been surmounted and the two had become close friends. NPVR performed at a range of venues such as Tresor, Sutton House, Corsica, Blitz, Paris GRM #Focus2, LEV Festival and Rigas Skanumezs Festival. Following Rehberg’s untimely passing Void had difficulty listening back to the sessions but eventually thought it fit to complete and release this album, of which even the artwork (like 33 33, an image from Zurich photographer, Georg Gatsas) had been decided upon prior to Rehberg parting ways.

There is an unmistakable joy to these recordings. One encounters an enthralling exploration of their chosen machines which conveys the excitement of what can be randomly conjured when people speak through such devices. There is no grand statement or argument here, just the sheer thrill of creation and the recorded results of random encounters. The art of collaboration was always a mainstay of Rehberg’s practice from the advent of the MEGO adventure. Rehberg & Bauer was an initial collaboration with former business partner Ramon Bauer. Even at this stage one can hear a relaxed sense of delight in the sheer discovery of sound.

A mix made for the Wire magazine following the release of 33 33 hints at the freedom that comes with endless urge for exploration and discovery. Abstract tracks from Z'EV. Jérôme Noetinger and Jung An Tagen are included alongside British stalwarts The Fall and New Order. There were no lines between pop / academic / underground or mainstream in Rehberg’s world. All of it sat at the same table. It is just matter in the atmosphere, like the diverse exploration found in these recordings that comprise 33 34.

Towards the end of his life Rehberg was obsessing over the immense output of the German ambient musician Pete Namlook. An artist renowned for not only his sprawling catalogue of ambient masterpieces but one who often said his main inspiration was nature. This is apt with regards to the work of NPVR which also aligns with such thought as the intertwining of the two individual artists and their machines results in a natural symbiotic flow, as it happens, just like in the world around us.

The notion of home isn’t precise, even a dictionary will offer multiple definitions. A home can be a place where you live, a place where you belong, where you originate from or a place where you’re given care; it can be a physical space, a land, a people or even a person. The concept isn’t completely universal, but everyone possesses a unique idea of what home means to them. On her fifth album, Ziúr considers not just what home symbolizes from her perspective, but the word’s resonance to the diverse community that surrounds her, and how their stories have impacted her over the years. Indeed, it’s the first time she’s felt it necessary to examine her own nationality. In the past, she’s deliberately avoided labelling herself as German, feeling disconnected from her country’s politics, culture and even the German language itself. In 2025, the idea of Germanness is in flux and progressives are under attack from all sides. The country’s politics aren’t only being turned inward by the growing throng of far-right voices, but by scared moderates, opportunists and those blinded by comfort, willing to ignore hatred to maintain their privilege. Stepping up to provide a different narrative, Ziúr scours her soul, writing and singing in German for the first time and proposing growth and evolution, not fear and regression. “I never considered being part of Germany,” she explains. “But I am.”

A solemn mood permeates the album’s opening track ‘Brown is the Color’, and Ziúr sings in measured, slow-motion breaths over noisy synth oscillations and doomed piano flourishes. Already, it’s a significant departure from her last run of releases, veering away from the frenetic, satirical chaos of 2023’s Hakuna Kulala-released ‘Eyeroll’ or its fantastical, dubby predecessor ‘Antifate’. Ziúr pulls on real world insights here, tracing her oldest, dearest musical inspirations to present her origins to anybody who might be listening. “Cold world is holding up,” she laments with a metallic crunch. “To let go of your heart, let me go.” And her voice emerges from the shadows completely on ‘Tame’; unprocessed, Ziúr sounds naked and vulnerable on ‘Tame’, curving her precise words around broken, lopsided rhythms and jangling new wave guitars. It’s pop music in its own way, inverted and reconstructed to fit snugly into her well-established sonic landscape. On ‘No Yawn’, brittle, downsampled hi-hats and industrial scrapes ping-pong around distorted riffs, provided by James Ó Ceallaigh aka WIFE; “You fail to sugarcoat your half-ass attempt,” she deadpans, “to build your promised wonderland on quicksand.” Even the beatless ‘All Odds No Chants’, a collaboration with Elvin Brandhi and Sara Persico, reveals another room in Ziúr’s autobiographical suite, mirroring György Ligeti’s enduringly influential choral works with its gnarled, dissonant vocal harmonies.

In the year 3091, scientists from Stereo 45 headquarters develop jump-drive technology capable of folding space-time. A research team consisting of gyrofield, Sun People, Om Unit & Comfort Zone venture out into the vast depths of the cosmos to document their discoveries.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

This summer's epic murder mystery will find its way to your record player! The new film by Chris Columbus
(Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Home Alone) has once again been fully scored by composer Thomas Newman.

With titles such as American Beauty and Road to Perdition under his belt, Newman is renowned for his hauntly eerie,
but beautiful style. The beloved film composer matches perfectly with the cozy, yet intriguing
Netflix movie starring Pierce Brosnan (GoldenEye, Mamma Mia! The Movie) and Helen Mirren (The Queen, Excalibur).

The Thursday Murder Club is available as a limited edition on red vinyl.

Ground-breaking percussive ambient recordings from Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors, inducing altered states of consciousness through ecstatic dance. "Selected Works from 1985 to 2005" finally available on Time Capsule

Despite featuring an extraordinary cast of musicians (with credits including Pharoah Sanders, Miles Davis, Sun Ra, Santana and Milton
Nascimento) and selling hundreds of thousands of albums, the music of Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors remains largely unheard beyond their sphere. Conceived as live, improvised soundtracks to Roth’s transcendental dance workshops, musical acclaim was never on the agenda.Instead, for a passionate dancer and spiritual polyglot like Gabrielle Roth, movement was a means through which to channel a wide spectrum of teaching, from experimental psychology to psychedelic counter-culture. It was from this heady mix that she devised a movement meditation known as 5Rhtyhms, which came to define her life’s work.

As “guide and catalyst”, Roth would dance to inspire the percussion-led instrumentals that would in turn fuel her 5Rhythms workshops, stimulating a secular form of ecstatic dance with roots in Native American shamanic traditions, Afro-Brazilian Candomblé and Yoruba drumming. Using anything from a Sioux pony drum to East African kihembe and Japanese Kabuki drums, Gabrielle’s lawyer-turned-drummer husband Robert Ansell set the foundational rhythms for The Mirrors’ recordings, each of which would then feature a rotating cast of friends and professional musicians.

“The secret of everything we’ve done is that we never told anybody what to play,” Robert shares. “Instead of our albums being a musical vision of one person like me or Gabrielle, they were the musical vision of a whole bunch of people.”At times the recordings have a Middle Eastern flair, at others, West African and spiritual jazz modes come to the fore. Hints of kosmische musik, proto-house and electronic ambience are laced like LSD through the organic rhythmic structures. This was kaleidoscopic ambient music to stir the body and free the mind.

In practice, the task of synthesising these different elements fell to Scott Ansell, Robert’s son and a recording engineer whose credits now include Nile Rogers, Duran Duran, Grace Jones. With meticulous attention to detail he captured and translated the dynamic energy of each drum onto record. Their sessions became legendary, and with access to the best studios in the NYC, The Mirrors sparkled.

Despite being initially overlooked by the burgeoning ‘80s New Age market, which preferred pipes and gongs to The Mirrors’ heavy-grooving drums, Robert Ansell set up Raven Recording to self-release the music, creating a vast sonic archive of sixteen albums over almost forty years. The breadth of Raven’s catalogue is such that curator Pol Valls had to cut an initial selection of sixty-six tracks down to the eleven featured here. What crystallises is a stunning, mind-altering collection which spans, in Pol’s words, “a variety of genres, styles, and vibes within their catalogue, whether it is emotional, esoteric, spiritual, melancholic, hypnotic, dark, or at times a combination of these elements together.”Music for immersive and intimate environments, Gabrielle Roth & The Mirrors were born from the dance. In the hands of the right DJ, at the right time, in the right place, they might just return there.

Lukah’s unprecedented trajectory shatters new heights with A Lost Language Found, his most thoughtful, sonically-diverse record yet. With the multiplatinum OG Statik Selektah on production duties, Lukah’s by now iconic, razor-sharp pen-game goes toe-to-toe with some of the best. Trading verses with Houston innovator Bun B, Memphis legend 8 Ball, and the larger than life Killer Mike, all parties involved operate at the peak of their skill. The first of what will be multiple collaborations with heavyweight hip-hop producers, this new LP establishes what we already knew in our hearts: Lukah is here to take over.

The stage set to deliver this latest opus is intensely personal: in the heart of his community, Lukah holds court with his trusted fellows at his great grandmother’s house in French Fort, Memphis, a historically black neighborhood long rec-ognized as a stately, proud vision of Black suburbia in a city still healing from deep racial trauma. Recently laid to rest in Elmwood Cemetery, the pain and strength of mourning her influence is present in the deep lyrics of A Lost Lan-guage Found, where Lukah traces not just his own legacy, but that of the linguistically rich and diverse dialects of his people. The cover image depicts the game room of the house, a place that once hosted civil rights leaders and revolu-tionaries, now a monument both to a history of leadership and to its future. For the first time, Lukah himself appears on the album art to mark this significant occasion, flanked by his partners, the symbolic source of knowledge in his hand. Listening to Lukah spit has always been a privilege and a revelation. His artistic power lies in uncovering secrets thru torrents of lucid, poetic rhymes. The listener is invited to share in this bountiful feast. Witness the real god expansion.

The album is available as a limited edition vinyl release of 500 copies in gatefold jacket.

Unknown Waveforms is the forthcoming album from Belgian trio KAU, set for release on October 10, 2025. Marking an evolution since their 2023 release The Cycle Repeats, this new record captures a more personal, immediate, and unfiltered version of the band's sound. In an increasingly digital world, KAU takes a different route, with an album rooted in human connection, live energy, and creative spontaneity. Here, the trio reflect their take on instrumental music, drawing heavily fromjazz, hip hop, and electronic influences.

At the heart of Unknown Waveforms lies the starting point of three musicians in a room, writing and composing music on the spot. For KAU, this idea mirrors their working method: long jam sessions, free-flowing experimentation, and shared moments of inspiration. Songs often take shape slowly, unfolding over hours or days, but always built collaboratively as a trio.

The album's title reflects the mystery behind how music comes together, but is also both literal and symbolic. Unknown waveforms are the sounds that arise when machines and people interact in unpredictable ways. Whether you're an experienced musician or just starting out, the creative process often feels elusive and hard to fully understand. But there are also certain moments: creative sparks that can't be planned or programmed. It ends up being more than notes, gear, or structure, it's about the process, the tension and energy that builds when people connect and create in the same room.

The title track, Unknown Waveforms, captures that exact process. It opens with a quote from synth pioneer Wendy Carlos: "I'm just trying to show you how we get some of these sounds", inviting listeners directly into the creative space. The track focuses less on a polished outcome and more on the moment before a song is "finished": it's a portrait of experimentation, feeling, and raw expression.

This commitment to honesty permeates the entire album. KAU kept overdubs to a minimum, avoided excessive editing, and prioritized spontaneous choices over calculated ones. In a time when the future of live, improvised music feels uncertain, they double down on the physical, the real, and the immediate. The album resists the pristine polish of modern production, favoring the warmth and imperfection of analog synthesis. The band embraces the character of their instruments, particularly vintage gear, where subtle flaws add beauty, depth, and personality.

One standout track, cr_eye, is driven by the Moog Subphatty-a key instrument in the band's toolkit for its analog warmth and powerful sub-bass. The track centers around the conversation between bass and drums, allowing the keyboards to recede and create space. It draws emotional threads from earlier KAU tracks like Kampala and Kautokeino, bridging past and present with a shared atmosphere and rhythmic interplay.

Another highlight, Stratford, finds inspiration in London's transport system and the UK jazz scene that has long influenced KAU. A field recording snippet of the London Underground kicks off the track, connecting it to the rhythm of everyday commutes. Built around a hypnotic sequencer line from the Roland JX-3P, the track evokes the motion of a metro journey. Artists like Nubya Garcia, Yussef Dayes, and Alfa Mist, giants of the scenethat the band has admired for years, resonate subtly throughout.

Above all, Unknown Waveforms is a statement of intent from KAU: a celebration of imperfection, creative honesty and an insight in the process.

“Tunggak Semi” is the third album from Indonesian musician and producer Bambang Pranoto. Originally released in 2000, it’s an exemplary slice of what has become his signature style, a dream-like meditation on aspects of nature, combining elements of accordion, acoustic guitar, flute and percussion. The compositions cross eastern and western notation to inhabit a world of their own, a world between worlds, where harmonies reflect the beauty and joy of nature.

Bambang had a rather atypical entry into music, and studied electronics and telecommunications, before he took advantage of the wave of computer software like Cubase and Protools in the 1990s that enabled him to set about recording his own compositions and soundscapes. After playing in groups, he developed his own approach to constructing his productions. He invites musicians to record interpretations of his themes, which he then pieces together in Protools like a jigsaw puzzle. “The musicians have never even met!” he chuckled on a Skype call.

“Tunggak Semi” refers to the giant trees that appear all over Bali, and their process of renewal and regeneration. “If you cut the tree, and leave the roots, they will grow again. Everytime we cut, they grow again. It’s limitless. This philosophy means there’s always something new coming, whether an idea or music, anything.” This approach has grown out of Bambang’s studies into meditation, including Indian and Chinese scriptures, also Balinese and Indonesian religions. Music, like meditation, is a daily practice, and acceptance of the music and its ‘unfinishedness’, forms a central part of the process.

“We must not just think, but we must also feel, and we must accept that feeling,” explains Bambang, and that’s a step of opening one’s mind to possibility. It seems in keeping with two of Bambang’s musical inspirations, namely Ryuichi Sakamoto and Peter Gabriel, both known for their love of world folk music, and fusion of musical traditions. That’s mirrored in Bambang’s own collage-like approach, recording elements and piecing them together to make something unimagined. While the acoustic sound palette for “Tunggak Semi” is rooted in live recordings, Bambang is not afraid to put the digital technology to good use.

“We have to use the computer as a tool in the best way we can,” Bambang says. “Sometimes people say music is made by people, not by the computer, but it’s just another piece of equipment. What can we compose from this equipment? It’s technology music!”

Written and produced by Bambang Pranoto at interactive garden studio, Depok, Bogor between September and December 2001. 2025 version remastered by Wouter Brandenburg at Brandenburg Mastering.

Here we are with the Earth perched on a thin tenuous wire. The neo-liberal order and its fascist mirror world burning through fossil fuels and the souls of vulnerable peoples the globe over. Conflict, warfare, climate degradation, misinformation. The time is nigh to break the spell with music.

Right on time comes IC007 – Four cuts of progressive elektro roots to shine a light on only four of the multitudinous hot spots of suffering while also inspiring a musical movement forward through the storm. Dedicated to the peoples of the Sudan, Palestine, Ukraine, and Taiwan this tune is another ITAL COUNSELOR sound system scorcher.

The message at its very core is to keep keeping on. Never give up. Forward through the storm like an ITAL WARRIOR! This RHYTHM SHOWER is a guideline toward a better tomorrow.

Delivering this message are some of ITAL COUNSELOR MUSIC’s stalwart players. Inyaki Basque Dub Foundation returns to the fold with yet another top-notch original rhythm – A drum and bass workout that harkens back to the best of Sly & Robbie’s Compass Point era science fiction dubwise and just a little bit of Aswad’s “To The Top” era progressive roots. Both raw and rhythmically complex, Inyaki makes the drum and bass hit hard with the mixing help of top studio man James Zugati. The dubwise cuts on side two are of course custom made to make bass bins rumble and weakheart drop.

Alas, we cannot forget Soothsayer horns – here as always proving that they are the best horn section out there. They feel it. They know it. They execute it in the hardest and sharpest of manors. Heavy heavy hornsman manners…

Progressive. Heavy. Horns. Elektro. Roots. Forward.

One Love and Guidance along the Way,
Andy G, IC

Lucky Number are thrilled to announce the release of both TRICK and RULES the latest albums to be released by the Philadelphia-based songwriter Alex Giannascoli, more commonly known as Alex G. Trick and Rules follow on the acclaimed heels of the November 2014 international release of Alex's fifth album, DSU. Recorded prior to DSU and previously only available via Alex's Bandcamp account, the albums have now been professionally mastered and are being made commercially available for the very first time.

Trick features many of the fan favourites that Alex has been playing at shows recently, including the infectious off-kilter anthem 'Forever', the dreamy and surreal 'Animals' and the charmingly lo-fi 'Change'. Trick is soaked in the distinctive personality that is Alex G, the professionally mastered versions of these tracks affirming that underneath all the unconventional guitar lines and scrawls of fuzz, Alex has a serious knack for melodic songwriting.

Trick continues to showcase a prodigious song-writing talent, reaffirming that Alex G is one of the most promising and prolific American musicians today.

Pop-punk veterans Teenage Bottlerocket are primed to release their new LP Ready to Roll, the band's first full length for Pirates Press Records. "This time around, there was no big concept, no pressure. We just wrote songs that felt good to play," explains bassist Miguel Chen. "That freedom brought something fresh. It reminded us why we started doing this in the first place. The vibe is all about reconnecting with the joy of making music together. "The band returned to The Blasting Room in Fort Collins, CO, with Andrew Berlin behind the board & Jason Livermore overseeing the final master. "The Blasting Room is like home for us," says Miguel. "Working with Andrew and Jason is always a smooth ride-they know how to pull the best out of us." Fans got their first taste of what's to come via the lead single "She's the Shit." Ray Carlisle wrote the song for his wife Rachel, who he says "loves to give me a hard time-she rolls her eyes when I rock out in front of the mirror, makes fun of the music I love, and calls me an old man when I bring up movies she's never seen. And I totally love her for it." As for the song, Ray says, "It kicks the door open. It sets the tone for the whole record-fast, catchy, and not taking itself too seriously. Just the way we like it." This back to basics approach carries through the album, making it equally satisfying for longtime fans & newcomers alike. "Whether it's your first TBR album or your tenth," says Miguel. "There's something here for you." It's packed with everything you'd expect from TBR with a few surprises the band think you'll love - including a couple of songs where Miguel steps up to the mic for his first-ever lead vocals! "We're lucky to still be here, making music with our best friends, and connecting with people who get it," sums up Miguel. "Ready to Roll is exactly what it sounds like-we're stoked, and, in a way, we're just getting started."

Pop-punk veterans Teenage Bottlerocket are primed to release their new LP Ready to Roll, the band's first full length for Pirates Press Records. "This time around, there was no big concept, no pressure. We just wrote songs that felt good to play," explains bassist Miguel Chen. "That freedom brought something fresh. It reminded us why we started doing this in the first place. The vibe is all about reconnecting with the joy of making music together. "The band returned to The Blasting Room in Fort Collins, CO, with Andrew Berlin behind the board & Jason Livermore overseeing the final master. "The Blasting Room is like home for us," says Miguel. "Working with Andrew and Jason is always a smooth ride-they know how to pull the best out of us." Fans got their first taste of what's to come via the lead single "She's the Shit." Ray Carlisle wrote the song for his wife Rachel, who he says "loves to give me a hard time-she rolls her eyes when I rock out in front of the mirror, makes fun of the music I love, and calls me an old man when I bring up movies she's never seen. And I totally love her for it." As for the song, Ray says, "It kicks the door open. It sets the tone for the whole record-fast, catchy, and not taking itself too seriously. Just the way we like it." This back to basics approach carries through the album, making it equally satisfying for longtime fans & newcomers alike. "Whether it's your first TBR album or your tenth," says Miguel. "There's something here for you." It's packed with everything you'd expect from TBR with a few surprises the band think you'll love - including a couple of songs where Miguel steps up to the mic for his first-ever lead vocals! "We're lucky to still be here, making music with our best friends, and connecting with people who get it," sums up Miguel. "Ready to Roll is exactly what it sounds like-we're stoked, and, in a way, we're just getting started."

Marja Ahti is a Swedish artist living in Turku, Finland. She works with found sounds, objects and electronics, creating auditory assemblages that reveal a profound sensitivity to sound’s tactile potential. This new record sees her palette expand to include more recognisable acoustic instrumentation, albeit working in collaboration with musicians who are already reconfiguring how those instruments can sound.

Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth has its roots in a tape piece presented at Lampo in Chicago. Ahti then started working with Isak Hedtjärn (clarinet), Ryan Packard (percussion) and My Hellgren (cello) at the electronic music studios (EMS) in Stockholm. Incorporating recordings from those sessions, Ahti presented a new iteration of the work at the Seventh Edition Festival for Other Music in February 2024 with the trio performing live on stage whilst Ahti helmed the mixing desk, spatialising a specially made tape part through the INA GRM’s Acousmonium speaker orchestra. The piece has since gone through several further iterations before arriving at the version we have here on the LP's B-side where immense bass pressure and high frequency tones buffer restless amplified breath and scrape that folds over itself with extraordinary dynamics and subterranean activity before giving way to gorgeous resonant forms and passages of ritual purpose and sheer, unmistakeable beauty.

The A-side is Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth’s gentle double. Still Life with Poppies, Mirror and Two Clouds offers a companion reconfiguration of Ahti’s resynthesised percussion sustain and the same recordings of Hedtjärn and Hellgren from EMS, but here they’re nestled in a sonic landscape of calm and restraint that gives them a wholly other character. Ahti also draws on older recordings she’d made of Sholto Dobie’s diy pipe organs and uses these to create repeating patterns and flourishes of sliding pitches that emerge unexpected out of cycling passages of Ahti’s clear struck metal, destabilising electronic interventions and minimal piano figures.

Marja Ahti: “I’ve been fascinated with the kind of elemental quality the sounds I'm using have such as airy sounds or earthy, wooden sounds. These qualities can also be found in wind instruments and percussion and the musicians I worked with on Touch This Fragrant Surface of Earth are really good at enhancing these qualities in their playing. I wanted to have this connection between found sounds, field recordings, or pre-recorded sounds, objects, and material, and see where these sounds might meet each other, and hopefully blend is a natural way without a divide between instrumental music, or acoustic music, or electronic music. But also, when you bring in people they come with their personalities and their ideas which is also energizing and brings surprising things into the collaboration that I couldn't come up with myself. I was really interested in making this a proper collaboration and not just coming up with the piece and giving it to them. We had the sessions at EMS where we could share ideas and Isak, Ryan and My could bring in their own ideas. Making recordings there gave me time to process these ideas and to also approach them in the same way that I would work with any other sound.”

Balmat 17 marks both a return and a new frontier. It is the second album on the label from Patricia Wolf, whose 2022 album See-Through is one of the most beloved in Balmat’s catalog; it also marks the first time that Wolf has turned her hand to a film soundtrack. The results are every bit as magical as fans of the Portland, Oregon, composer’s music might expect.

Hrafnamynd—Icelandic for “raven film”—is a new feature-length documentary by experimental filmmaker Edward Pack Davee. Shot on a mix of film and digital formats, and incorporating his father’s Ektachrome slides from the 1970s, the autobiographical film works on multiple levels at once: a reminiscence of his childhood in Iceland, an exploration of landscape and folklore, and a documentary study of the island nation’s ravens—including a talking raven named Krummi.

Wolf is the perfect artist to score such an unusual film. Mixing ambient music and field recording—including extensive experience documenting bird song—Wolf brings an unusually empathic perspective to her music. In the context of Hrafnamynd, her airy melodies, pensive atmospheres, and vivid textures intuitively complement the film’s grainy film stock and blown-out colors. Friends for years, the two artists further bonded when Wolf asked Pack to film music videos for her songs “Woodland Encounter” (from See-Through) and “The Culmination Of” (from I'll Look For You In Others). Pack used Wolf’s previously recorded music as placeholders as he began assembling a rough cut of the film, which made her a natural choice to help him complete his idiosyncratic vision with an all-new, bespoke score.

But Wolf’s soundtrack also indisputably stands alone as a full-length album. Largely created using the UDO Super 6 synthesizer, it features a carefully distilled palette of warm, string-like pads and darkly glistening mallets, rounded out with the very occasional introduction of nylon string guitar. Musically and stylistically, the album’s 11 tracks represent both a continuation of the ruminative sound of See-Through and also an extension into new expressive modes. Few musicians, ambient or otherwise, are as skilled at balancing melody with atmosphere, or at finding ways to eke fresh at finding ways to eke fresh, surprising sounds out of an intentionally reduced toolkit. Meditative, immersive, and emotionally generous Wolf’s Hrafnamynd soundtrack evokes a range of ambient classics from decades past while confidently marking out its own verdant patch of ground.


Artist’s Statement:
Edward and I have been friends for years, but we really started to get to know one another better after I hired him to make music videos for my songs “Woodland Encounter” and “The Culmination Of.” For those projects we got to spend a lot of time hiking in various locations around the Pacific Northwest with his camera, very nice lenses, and tripod. Keeping quiet, hidden, and vigilant we searched for wildlife, good light on the trees, meadows, lakes, rivers, and skies. Edward was already an appreciator of my music and I was already in awe of his filmmaking talents so it felt like a great fit. Although we work in different areas of art our styles compliment one another. We both tend toward slow and careful pacing, with a focus on emotion and introspective reflections on life and the landscapes around us. For this reason, Iknew that I could trust Edward to create videos for my music. We saw so many beautiful and unexpected things on our filming days, but I was moved to tears once I saw how magnificent and poetic it all was. His video work from the cinematography, to the editing, and color correction helped bring my inner vision to life.

A few months after that, Edward surprised me with an invitation to work on the soundtrack for his new film, Hrafnamynd. I enthusiastically said yes. I had always wanted to work on a film, and I knew that his filmmaking style would be inspiring to write music for. I had recently acquired an UDO Super 6 synthesizer but hadn't used it much. I decided that this would be the synth that I'd use for the film. It has the ability to sound very modern, but can also sound so warm and fuzzy, like a synth from the 1970s. It turned out to be the perfect instrument for this project as the film itself straddles time from the ’70s to today.

When Edward sent me the rough cut of the film, he used placeholder music to help give me an idea of the emotion and energy that he was hoping to achieve for each scene. For many of the scenes, Edward used music from my albums as temporary tracks. This told me that he trusted my work and style and therefore I should just trust my intuition with how to proceed. I wanted to make sure that everything that I made was a direct reflection of what was happening on screen, a mirror of its emotion and energy so people could really lock into the film psychologically. This process took my composing to unexpected places—like being led by a strange cat or a raven that seemed to have something to show me. I found that the approach made the music so much more dynamic than my usual style. I really enjoyed being influenced by the action and dialog on the screen. Thankfully, Edward was very happy with the work. I made sure to handle this project with the utmost care because this is about his life and his family, and an exploration of the experiences that made him an artist and filmmaker. While watching the film many times over, I found myself thinking about my own family and my early memories with them and how the place where I grew up has influenced who I have become. I found that his film invites the viewer to reflect on their own lives in a similar way. I hope that this music and film can guide others to contemplate on the history of their beingness and the people and places that shaped them.

Another aspect to this project is the splendor and wonder of Iceland itself. I had the opportunity to visit Iceland for the first time in 2023. I got to play a show there for the Extreme Chill Festival and met many friendly and brilliant Icelanders. I also got to collect field recordings that I used in the film. It's a fascinating place and culture that easily captures the hearts and imaginations of anyone who visits. Whether you spend your time in the city immersed in its impressive arts scene, or venture out into the wilderness to behold its wondrous landscape, it will leave a lasting impression. The soundtrack is also a love letter to Iceland itself.

*People Like Us, the project of artist Vicki Bennet returns to Discrepant with a special vinyl release of "COPIA". This album marks the first new musical material since "The Mirror" in 2018, delving into the profound realms of existential collage and sampling, celebrating these forms as expressions of timeless connectivity.
* The title "COPIA," meaning 'abundance' and 'copy,' reflects the essence of collage and sampling - art created not in isolation, but as a connective thread through time and space, linking ideas across generations in a seamless tapestry.
* By reconfiguring preexisting sounds and images, Bennet highlights the non-dual nature of creation — where distinctions between past, present, and future possibilities blur, revealing a shared foundation beneath. The album marks a return to not just solo works but collaborations with notable artists.
* Drawing from the new People Like Us live AV performance, "The Library of Babel," sampling and edited sound collage, electronic music, combined with Ergo Phizmiz's lyrics and melodies, "COPIA" weaves and recombines a timeless blend of diverse elements that transcends traditional musical boundaries. This creative process unfolded through the exchange of multitracks across both water and ether. Collaborating with the voices, instruments and editing timelines of Matmos, Hearty White, Gwilly Edmondez, Lotte Bowater, Buttress O’Kneel, Douglas Benford, Irene Moon, Jon Leidecker, and Matt Warwick, the work evolved exquisite corpse-style.

“Bennett has proven herself an alchemist of popular music, able to push her source material into fresh and engaging places. Where some artists hack existing instruments and technologies to create their new sounds, Bennet has circuit-bent the songs themselves.” - Spenser Tomson, The Wire Magazine

Pelican has always been a band that's not just from Chicago, but distinctly of Chicago. Formed in 2000 by guitarists Trevor Shelley de Brauw and Laurent Schroeder-Lebec alongside brothers Bryan and Larry Herweg on bass and drums respectively, Pelican's foundation was built upon the rule-free, genre-agnostic scene synonymous with the Fireside Bowl. "The `90s in Chicago was a free-for-all. Everyone was just coming from a place of pure creativity," says Shelley de Brauw. With Schroeder-Lebec returning to the band following Dallas Thomas' departure in 2022, this reunified version of Pelican allowed the band to tap back into the spirit of their formative era and build something distinctly new with Flickering Resonance. While longtime Pelican fans will recognize the album as an update to the band's ethos_one that's been constantly evolving since their very first EP_their new partnership with Run For Cover Records emphasizes something that's always been implicit to the Pelican formula. These songs take as much inspiration from titanic `90s post-hardcore, space-rock, and emo as they do traditional metal, showing that though Godflesh and Goatsnake records occupied the shelves of Pelican's songwriters, so too did Quicksand, Christie Front Drive, and Hum. "A lot of people didn't hear it at first," says Schroeder-Lebec. "I was like, well, I guess the metal world is where we fit. But now, we're more willing to acknowledge all the suits we're wearing."On Flickering Resonance, Pelican doesn't attempt to reinvent itself as much as emphasize the elements that were so often overlooked. Though Pelican's thick sonic backbone remains intact, the songs on Flickering Resonance show a more humanistic side of the band. Tracks like "Evergreen" and "Indelible" tease Pelican's doom-metal roots, but these songs feel equally, ebullient and truthful, playing like Texas Is The Reason songs transmuted into a post-rock landscape. Recorded with longtime musical compatriot Sanford Parker, who recorded their first EP, Pelican begins this new chapter of their career with an album that's neither full reinvention nor back-to-roots revivalism. After so much time apart, and with so much life having been lived between the original Pelican lineup's last recording sessions together, the band approached it with renewed vigor and a more communal spirit."There was more room for openness and critique with the understanding that we're all trying to craft the best song possible and that every suggestion is valid until it's proven invalid," says Shelley de Brauw. That process allowed everyone to embrace the material with a shared vision. "We didn't move forward unless we all wanted to move forward, and that felt like real community building," says Schroeder-Lebec of this unified approach. "I went from seeing it as my art and my craft to our craft that we were shaping together."In doing so, Pelican allowed themselves to look at their music less as a means of hard-earned catharsis and more as an appreciation for the glimmers of joy that occur even in the bleakest landscapes. Songs like "Cascading Crescent" and "Indelible" don't languish in what's been lost, these tracks see the band embracing what remains in their hands instead of lamenting what's slipped through their fingers. It's a concept that's mirrored in the artwork of Christian Degn that graces the cover of Flickering Resonance. It's a piece built off the concept of flame meditation, and how the smallest flames can often bring about the biggest transformations. A song like "Flickering Stillness" exemplifies this feeling through its sonic expanse, putting the band's sonic density and hyper-focused clarity on display, but with an emphasis on the profound human connections that have kept Pelican going all these years. "When Laurent left and we were able to carry it through, there became a real sense of gratitude for the fact we still have this artistic outlet and a community of people who want to be a part of it" That feeling of deep, grounded appreciation isn't just one that's within the band members, it's expressed in every track on Flickering Resonance. Because at the very core of Pelican, are four individuals who have grown both separately and together, and always will.Like a distant light faintly glowing in the darkest night, Flickering Resonance is a reminder of all that has passed us by, but also all that is still to come.

For her second full-length as Plume Girl, Sowmya Somanath crafts a space where boundaries of language, feeling, and sound start to dissolve. ‘Unnameable Glory’ ruminates on the limits of expression, and the luminous freedom that emerges when we let go of the need to name. Elaborating on the exploratory songs of her debut, Plume Girl continues to bring together Hindustani classical improvisation, ambient soundscapes, and experimental pop.

Somanath’s voice—from gentle murmur to radiant call—guides the listener through dreamlike arrangements: sunrise guitar arpeggios, humming choirs, heartbeat kickdrums, and synths tremble. Elsewhere field sounds and old family recordings are collaged, a woman’s giggle transposed into a piano melody, a sloshing body of water mirrored by synth bleeps. Plume Girl conjures moments of revelation, drawing from the natural beauty and intuition, that unnameable glory.

Is there a divinity or a wholeness that exists beyond language, belief, or tradition? Unnameable Glory both celebrates and gently challenges the notion: Can we honour the creative richness of culture while also seeing through the divisions it creates? Can we meet the world—and each other—without assumption, without fear, with eyes made new? In these songs, the sacred is found not in grand gestures, but in the anonymous freedom of simply being: the iridescence of oil and water on a street, the smile of a stranger, the hush that settles by a creek.

At the heart of the album is a sense of curiosity and surrender—a willingness to listen without judgment, to let the moment be unnameable, to allow wonder to arise and dissolve. And yet, as Somanath notes, there’s an impulse to capture that’s tough to ignore; a need to replicate and remember. Unnameable Glory dwells in this tension: between holding and letting go, between the urge to define and the beauty of what cannot be contained. There is a quiet, revolutionary joy in simply living and sensing together. Music becomes a meeting place for the whole, the holy, and the unnamable.

Now is a DIY recording & performing pop group from the SF Bay Area with a predilection for 80s UK cassette culture, pulp novels, beat groups, and b movies. "Now Does the Trick" all too well. With balance, harmony, and simplicity, Now slips their hand into the pocketbook of modfathers without being nicked by nostalgia. Harmony on every corner. "Beat Girl" playing on late night TV. The fantasy soundtracks People doing handstands at a party with Syd Barrett. Where the Soft Boys play in the background and no one crosses a picket line. Like a long walk next to the train tracks on Ringo's day out with Sunlight Bathed in the Golden Glow: A little blood in your teeth of an Andy and Edie bubblegum Dream. RIYL (Recommended If You Like): Big Star, Feelies, Felt, Syd Barrett, Robyn Hitchcock, Sharp Pins.

EARTHGANG are a unique rap duo that have been making an impact on the Hip-Hop soundscape since their formation in 2008. Comprised of members Olu and WowGr8, the pair met as freshmen at Mays High School in Southwest Atlanta and were deeply influenced by their surroundings. Their music as EARTHGANG is a fusion of various genres, including R&B, Jazz, Gospel, and Funk, which they use to create innovative albums, experimental EPs, and masterful mixtapes. With a name rooted in the idea of bringing people together, EARTHGANG have gained a massive following, with more than 3 Million monthly listeners on Spotify and over 155 Million views on YouTube. After signing with J. Cole's Dreamville Records in 2017, EARTHGANG's popularity grew even further, with their 2019 album Mirrorland debuting at #40 on the US Billboard 200 Chart and #22 on the US Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums Chart. EARTHGANG's commitment to community activism, supporting emerging artists, and dedication to pushing boundaries in their music have earned them critical acclaim and a devoted fanbase. Their sound continues to evolve, with each project showcasing their eclectic rhythm that cannot be placed in a box or attached to any one genre. With the latest examples of this being their new EP ROBOPHOBIA, as well as their recent Snakehips collab project SNAKEGANG, EARTHGANG are continuing to push the sonic boundaries of Hip-Hop while simultaneously delivering outside-of-the-box concepts infused with an experimental sound.

“Heart of Night,” a split EP co-released by Gar Hole Records (Fayetteville, AR) and Mashed Potato Records, offers two prime examples of modern alternative Americana music’s exciting trajectory: the Ozark-induced warbles and clever country stylings of Nick Shoulders, and the swampy pop songs and dreamy harmonies of The Lostines. This collaboration is an homage to the places and people we call home. It’s the ideal accompaniment to steamy slow dancing deep in a pitch black, heavy and humid Arkansas night, or for swinging someone around in a vibrant, neon lit New Orleans dive. It’s also the soundtrack for ruminating on the heart’s capacity for simultaneous strength and fragility, the connections between different modalities, homes, and loves.

For Heart of Night’s cover, intricate, hand-drawn artwork and lettering from tastemaker illustrator Taylor W. Rushing mirrors the duality of the flora and fauna of two terrains — the cypress swamps and the Ozark Mountains — from which this four-song collection springs.

Almost Like You Could ignites its art punk fire with Lucy Alexander proclaiming, “Everyone wants something to talk about / But not a minute to spare, so be brief.” Not surprising from a song that’s 1:54 (‘Higher’), but the raw honesty in her lyrics ring far after the music ends. Alexander, along with bandmate Luke Cartledge, place the propulsive power of their beliefs at the core of their debut full-length album, and their guiding motivation towards social justice is as fierce as it is welcoming. “Living as part of the queer community, and being queer myself, leads me towards supporting every person’s truth,” Alexander says. Scrounge’s songs skip to a fast beat, electrifying the entire album with a sense of empowerment. Their approach is OG punk: they make music for their peers and themselves. Only now, with a world of connections possible, they’re able to open arms wide for a far-reaching embrace. Alexander’s rich vocals give their sound its central force, anchoring the songs with confessional lines (“If this is the pinnacle, then I need a miracle/ Cause everyone’s laughing at me,” “There’s not much left/ this corpse I have to keep/ Above board.”). They sing about economic inequality, political corruption, environmental destruction, and collective change. “We’re inspired by those around us, and we write about what we care about. Art has always existed for us as a means of catharsis, a way of expressing something we might not be able to otherwise, and we hope our music can be that for other people too,” says Alexander. “I think I’ve actually written a filthy banger,” she states while re-listening to “Buzz/Cut”, a grunge-honoring hammer of a song that takes a journey from disappointment, to self-realization, to release. Alexander and Cartledge’s gratification in making an album they’re proud of mirrors the empowerment conveyed in their lyrics. A follow-up to debut mini-album Sugar, Daddy (Fierce Panda, 2022), Almost Like You Could came together over 18 months, in between “teaching, touring, graduation, and a wedding”, as Lucy explains, for the band always has a handful of shows coming up. It’s a strange outcome for a duo who first bonded over their mutual love of SOPHIE. “She radicalized the structure of sound, and revealed herself through it,” Cartledge explains. “That was a massive inspiration when we started playing together, stripping everything away to open up new possibilities as artists and as people." Having already toured Europe and the States, Scrounge is preparing to be on the road throughout 2025. In a world where the idea of true community is ephemeral, Lucy and Luke seek to foster it everywhere they play. And their belief in change is ultimately buoyed by hope. “I know that it’s never been this good,” they sing.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

The Crystal Hum is the debut vinyl release by Taiwan-based artist Yuching Huang and her first release for Night School.
A beguiling dreamscape of crackles, spluttering, love-struck Casios presided over by the the spectral vocal and guitar work of Huang, Yuching sings love songs at the end of this world and the beginning of the next. Recorded during a hiatus from her group Aemong (a duo with artist Henrique Uba) in Berlin, these songs elevate Huang’s unique vocal style and grasp of atmospherics. The Crystal Hum deconstructs balladry, Garage, guitar music and reforms it into a
unified ghostly otherworld version of these languages.

The Crystal Hum thrums with buried desire, trails of nocturnal reverb seeping out of apartment windows, diaristic vocal performances and deeply emotive, evocative Western-style strings. Formulated by Yuching Huang after periods of frustration and experimentation, the album is an exercise in minimalism and paring back, with some tracks like JohnJohn featuring little else than an elastic bass, spring reverb trails, an interjecting vocal and swelling, dislocated synths. The effect is spellbinding, the soundtrack to getting lost in the labyrinthine, closed streets of Venice, Taipei, Hong Kong, or mirror versions of them in the imagination.

On opener Fly! Little Black Thing, a subterranean funk bassline roots Huang’s singing, a rudimentary, unreliable beat floundering in whimsy underneath. Demure, dream Dance music, Huang references classic lo fi experimenters Suicide and Arthur Russell as well as Night School label mates The Space Lady and Ela Orleans. In fact, after the release of Aemong’s third album Crimson, Huang credits the direction of The Crystal Hum to being enchanted by The Space Lady’s Greatest Hits,
the landmark lo-fi recording made by Susan Dietrich Schneider in 1990. The new, minimalist approach to her sound world reveals and shrouds in equal measure. On the heart-melter Love, a sultry mid-tempo Casio + bass backing drops into the ether with Huang’s vocal swimming in preternatural void before emerging anew, in awe at the world. Every chord change heralds new perspectives, every guitar flurry swells and drips emotion, nothing is wasted and space billows out from between the grooves.
Huang never reveals more than necessary, making this an in-between love album: the right amount of mystery and darkened mirror shines wanely on The Crystal Hum while remaining fragile and vulnerable in the sweet spots. Turning over in pillowing smoke and night in the dark corners, Huang sings in both Mandarin and English. The songs speak of earthly matters seemingly at the edge of dissipating into nothing. Distorted, beguiling Sambas warble like sweating dancehalls in an imagined Lynchian 60s, as on Thoughts. Closer You, An Illusion warps a classic 60s Girlgroup bassline beloved of the likes of Les Rallizes

Denudes into a slight ballad on the edge of the void, held back by the teary-eyed, wistful and enveloping vocal cooed by Huang. Each song feels like a love song dedicated to the bits between worlds, between beats, the negative space between people where desires, feelings and loss hangs in the air, resolute and unresolved.

"“We can still hold the line of beauty, form, and beat. No small accomplishment in a world as challenging as this one... hard times require furious dancing. Each of us is proof” Alice Walker, Hard Times Require Furious Dancing

Snapped Ankles have given up trying to make sense of it all. The forest only offers so much protection. Feeding on a diet of fractured narratives, meme culture, viral moments and the very worst of human impulses weighs heavy. The woodwose hold up a mirror to the absurdity of modern life once again. The only sane response is to dance. Make your way to the clearing, gather around the megalith of speakers, drum machines, amps and synthesisers and dance like there’s no tomorrow.

Hard Times Furious Dancing is an invitation to all those lost in the unrelenting noise of the present, to leave it all behind and come together in the forest. Driven by the primitive thrust of their single-oscillator ‘log’ synths, high and low culture collide in a surreal, free flowing narrative - but the rhythm is universal. This is easily the closest Snapped Ankles have come to capturing their rapturous live energy in the studio.

The sound of Hard Times Furious Dancing evolved at Snapped Ankles’ South London ‘Forest Rayve’ club nights in 2024 in response to that age-old primal urge to bring people together and make them move. It’s the first time the woodwose have road tested new material to this extent before committing it to tape since debut album Come Play The Trees, and in doing so have harnessed that feral energy once again. This surreal human/woodwose connection is the very best release from an algorithm that knows you better than you know yourself. Dance it all loose."

Kneading dough is tricky – you should know how it’s supposed to feel. If you try too hard you could make it worse. It’s a beautiful practice – creation with a gentle touch, to work at something so it can be left alone. “If it’s too drawn out it’s awful. It’s easy to give too much.” Dance in the mirror. Contemplate your veiny hands. Who do they remind you of?

You begin by mixing flour and water. “What happens when your people die? Why’d they move the rock to the other side of Ulster Park?” Eliza Niemi asks two seemingly unrelated questions in a rising melody with guitar accompaniment, like fingers playing spider up to the nape of your neck. Gentle pressure. Strands of gluten form to bind the mix. A new question lingers in the binding. When she admits “but I don’t know how to tell if I’m feeling it or not,” that question surfaces through the text. It is reiterated throughout the album. When I’m working with dough I think the same thing to myself.

On Progress Bakery, her second album as a solo artist, Eliza knows to leave some questions alone – to let juxtaposition and tension be the proof. It doesn’t have to be hard. The feelings and revelations they provoke rise in the heat. The smell is sweet. Crispy on the outside and soft all the way through. She playfully slip-slides through words and sounds and images, delighting in surprise, skimming ideas like stones cast across clear water, touching down briefly with uncommon grace.

The question provoked between those opening lines resurfaces in the strands between songs – “Do U FM” is fully formed and beautifully layered, while “Novelist Sad Face” is a short, acapella rendering of gentle curiosity. What is holding these ideas together? Some songs demand more, seem to carry a whole load – eventually the skipping stone will halt to sink and resume its idle duty – while others drift in and out of focus, the way thoughts and dreams become interwoven before the mind is sunk into true sleep.

Music and words don’t always have to interact. Where she decides to keep them apart gives a new contour to where and how she puts them together. The kind of thing you’re supposed to take for granted with songs and their singers comes alive in Eliza’s hands – the little miracle of mixing, kneading, stretching, and stopping.

So often on Progress Bakery, Eliza teases out truth and meaning by asking questions. “Do I wanna be crying?” “Do you want me good or do you want me bad?” “Do I need an eye test?” “I’m writing songs in my head while you’re going over stuff with me — is that cruel??” In “Pocky” Eliza ends with a question that feels to me like the actual biography, succinct and revealing:

I don’t wanna be made to see
I just wanna ask “what’s that?”

Grace that ought to be rare, but in its care and precision is offered humbly, with great generosity, and without announcing itself. Eliza’s simple, miraculous music is given further form and shape by a group of collaborators – invaluable guest musicians Jeremy Ray, Evan Cartwright, Steven McPhail, Kenny Boothby, Ed Squires, Carolina Chauffe, Dorothea Paas, Louie Short, and Avalon Tassonyi. Together with Louie Short, who recorded, mixed, and produced the album along with Jeremy Ray and Lukas Cheung, Eliza has cultivated a richness in sound and texture that prods and provokes the ticklish ear. Barely audible guitar tinkering, a brief lo-fi field recording of trumpets, the harmonic clicking of a looped synthesizer, a flourish of reeds, a child’s conversation, each uncanny sound perfectly placed, rippling out under a soft breeze.

Lay in bed alone at night and ask aloud to the stillness,

“What were you doing at the Albuquerque Airport?
What were you doing there??”

And hear your question answered by a dream of swelling, undulating cellos. Try to grasp at the melody and structure. It’s not an answer (if there could be one), but it moves deeper, closer to the weird layer of fleeting moments and disconnected images, barely perceptible at its core. Wait for the dream reel to click into place.

Eliza took me for a ride in Nicole (her beloved Dodge Grand Caravan) and told me she’d been thinking of the album as an embodiment of transition – and I think every transition, known or unknown, carries the weight of new meaning, skittering off the surface tension of life as you know it, creating ripples, sometimes bouncing off and sometimes breaking through. There is a trick you can use to tell if a dough is glutinous enough. You’re supposed to stretch it out as thin as you can without breaking it and hold it up to the light. If you can see through, even if it renders the world murky and uncertain, you should leave it alone. I love this trick. It’s one that Eliza seems to know intuitively: work gently and ask questions and don’t always expect answers, and when you can, take a glimpse at something new, and then leave.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

The duality of "man" is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your "true self" & what do they want? With their sixth studio album "Wish Defense" (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album "Negative Houses" was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band's more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik's original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group's guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band's dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio's long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on "Wish Defense" revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles", tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album's title track; "Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance". Case lays out the entire album's theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that "other" person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is "_don't let the bastards get you down, there's something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good". "Wish Defense"s artwork is also a subtle reference to "Negative Houses"' art, returning to that album's black & white starkness & minimalism. The album's checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album's lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; "Wish Defense" is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve's untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio's A room, off the tape, using Albini's notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

Limited Indies “white split vinyl variant while supplies last. RIYL: Unwound, MBV, The Jesus Lizard, SUUNS, Preoccupations, METZ, Les Rallizes Denudes, The Dead C, Echo & The Bunnymen, Liars, This Heat, PIL. Sixth studio album from the Chicago trio. Features newly-rejoined original member Jonathan Van Herik. Recorded at Electrical Audio May 6 & 7, 2024 - final album recorded by Steve Albini. The duality of “man” is a subject that has been explored in art for centuries, from writings of the Bible to Descartes, all the way up to filmmakers like Lynch, Cronenberg, & Carpenter. Who is your “true self” & what do they want? With their sixth studio album “Wish Defense” (again for longtime home Trouble In Mind Records), Chicago trio FACS take a good, long look in the mirror to face themselves. The return of original member Jonathan Van Herik - who stepped away from the group just before their debut album “Negative Houses” was released in 2018 - replacing longtime bassist Alianna Kalaba brings renewed vigor & a marked angularity from the band’s more recent output. The songs still hit hard, but the approach is sideways - the roles have changed since Van Herik’s original tenure & his previous time with Case & powerhouse drummer Noah Leger in Disappears; now on bass, Van Herik was originally the group’s guitar player and features on the debut, while current guitarist Brian Case played bass. This role reversal has helped the band’s dynamic, offering up a different musical perspective than before, now revisiting the trio’s long-going collaboration with some distance and time. Case notes that the lyrics on “Wish Defense” revolve around doppelgängers or "doubles”, tackling the idea of facing yourself and observing your ideas and motivations. Look no further than the album’s title track; “Enter the mirror / Double walker / An intimate / Wish defense / Is it real? / You beside me / The detail / Terrifying / Abject self / Your grief / A public / Performance”. Case lays out the entire album’s theme in one stanza; Are your actions & emotions your true self? Or are they a performative aspect of that “other” person you put forward? Case says that ultimately the sentiment is “...don’t let the bastards get you down, there’s something beyond this moment, like hope - but not in the naive belief that ultimately people are good”. “Wish Defense”s artwork is also a subtle reference to “Negative Houses”’ art, returning to that album’s black & white starkness & minimalism. The album’s checkerboards everywhere are offset reflections of themselves, mirrored with the album’s lyrics printed front & center on the cover. Everything is out in the open. A final note; “Wish Defense” is the last album engineered by Steve Albini. Two days were recorded at Electrical Audio in early May of 2024 before Steve’s untimely passing, with renowned engineer & friend Sanford Parker stepping in to finish the session 24 hours later, tracking the last bits of vocals and overdubs. Longtime collaborator John Congleton mixed the album as Albini would have; in Electrical Audio’s A room, off the tape, using Albini’s notes about the session.

Recorded in its entirety using just a laptop, a pair of headphones and a midi sampler, Indentations is the debut full length album from New York based percussionist and producer Grant Chapman.

Indentations draws deeply on Chapman's personal experiences surrounding loss and betrayal. An intimate work reflecting the struggle of dealing with traumatic experiences, the album makes the case for equilibrium following life-altering experiences.

‘’The album is a meditation on the sheer weight a broken relationship can have on two people. A personification of the stages of grief one feels when growing apart from someone they love, for reasons they can’t seem to reckon with or comprehend.’’

Working from his East Village apartment, Indentations is a rich amalgam of intricately layered found sounds, almost all of which were found on YouTube, taking in influences that range from ASMR to acapella choral performance.

The effect is dizzying in its depth and scope. Chapman has created a boundless emotional musical journey that can feel both deeply intimate and cosmically vast.

The first in a four-volume retrospective of Kuduro and tarraxinha pioneer DJ ZNOBIA. Incoming unto the world for a very long time from the musseke of Rangel, home of Casa da Mé&e Ju, in the Angolan capital o Ldanda, one if not the pivotal visionary of his country’s music electronic and digital modernism DJ Znobia, o/fum/an inventor. Usually considered the first purveyor of the fluency regarding tarraxinha (drinking in its foundational slow shuffle from the city of Benguela), as well as a main player in free thinking, spontaneous, funny, depressive, silly, melancholic, hilarious all encompassing beats within kuduro, batida, techno and beyond, his influence as a producer, DJ, MC and public fiuce has had a great imprint in Angolan culture for the better part of the last three ecades. This venture went through over 700 tracks of his archive (more than double are lost in the meantime between his and the NNT library) in order to collaboratively select a fiercely representative albeit balanced affair from his production, between instrumentals for sung kuduro, instrumental kuduro/batida, sung and instrumental tarraxinha, and other creative styling from the late 90’s to the mid 2000’s. Forms now heard around the world which started here, with Znobia a decisively influential contributor, along with several of his peers and collaborators, which will be also in evidence in this four volume retrospective. His story is way too far flung for this endeavor to try and make a simple narrative out of it. You have to be him, you have to be within this territory, and we ask of the people who will approach to ask him what has happened with the history of this music and what is the current reality at ground zero Luanda, as he is a mirror and visionary of its streets, in a country with such complicated dynamics and brutal treatment of its citizens. To try to put in a clean slate for this conversation, let’s talk to a genius of street music. Your question. First, here's the opening collection of what we have to share with you.

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

The seeds of composer Rafael Anton Irisarri’s latest LP were first planted during his 2016 tour in Italy, months before that Autumn’s unexpected presidential election. The linguistic glitch of an innocuous diner in Milan named “il Mito Americano” – meant as “The American Dream” but translated literally to English as “The American Myth” – sparked a series of ideas, both conceptual and musical.

Amid the chaos of 2020, while exploring the stark world of brutalist architecture and inspired by the false fronts of Potemkin villages, a vision started to take shape: FAÇADISMS. Composed over three years, it’s a late capitalist lament of simmering electric despondency.

Irisarri’s obsession with repeating motifs mirrors the cyclical nature of our tumultuous political history. The album’s eight tracks heave and storm like a tempest being drained of its rage. This is the sound of majestic dissipation, of morning afters, fashioned from a mournful haze with cavernous guitars and granular twilight. A euphony of a receding tide as one sifts through the remnants of what remains: dust, delusion, and memory.

Opening with the somber gauze of “Broken Intensification," FAÇADISMS moves fluidly between moments of absence and abandon. Ashen swaths of electronics billow above smoldering embers of melody, guitar, and scattered streaks of processed strings and voice, as on the rapturous doom of “Control Your Soul's Desire for Freedom,” featuring Julia Kent on cello and Hannah Elizabeth Cox on vocals. "The impoverished peoples of the Americas have known all along that 'freedom' is a cruel illusion crafted by the elites, akin to Potemkin's fake villages designed to impress Catherine the Great," Irisarri indicates. "FAÇADISMS illustrates a twisted inversion where the rulers deceive their subjects with illusions of safety, democracy, and free speech to create a grotesque mirage of control over their own lives.”

Elsewhere, Irisarri leans into passages of hushed oblivion (“Hollow,” “Dispersion of Belief”), while ragged drones rumble and disintegrate into wind-battered ambient wreckage. One has the sense that it’s all too late. The hour of fury has passed. The beauty has come and gone. Irisarri’s muse has become the crack in the façade of the unraveling myth.

The record closes with a climax of grand departure. Co-written with Kenyan sound artist KMRU, “Red Moon Tide” surges from flickering elegy to celestial disquiet, roiling waves of hymnal descent, and bristling noise. The effect is unsettling and unmooring: a soundtrack for the soul leaving the body, only to discover a void. It’s the sound of the center not holding, of shared illusions being dissolved in a tunnel of white light.

The cover photograph captures a profound sense of desolation. Taken in the historic shanty town of La Perla, Puerto Rico, where Irisarri spent his childhood, brutal colonial mysteries are lost to time. A skeletal concrete structure decays against an expansive blue horizon. Only the shadow of its shell ripples on the empty sea.

Has the American myth finally run its course?

'a masterclass in hardcore dancefloor and bittersweet feeling...Alex Crossan is both acclaimed and not feted enough' **** The Observer

Available on his own Pond Recordings, Curve 1 is a love-letter to club spaces, and the music and people who fill them.

Mura Masa’s forth album is a full-circle moment. Departing from the pop-leaning narrative and who’s-who guestlist of his most recent records, Curve 1 heads back down the rabbit-hole of club music that’s alternately euphoric, introspective, nostalgic and future-facing. Full of tension and release, ambiguity and playfulness, the significance of Curve 1 is left up to the individual: whether enjoyed solo or in the sweat of a packed room, here is music as enigmatic and layered as its author.

Mura Masa himself introduces Curve 1 as 'a manifestation of an attitude I’ve been cultivating in my personal life; ignore everything. All the content, all of the attention economy, all of it. In doing that, the really meaningful and vital parts of what’s around you make themselves known and unignorable, demanding your energy. It’s my first offering as an independent artist through my own record label, and as such I wanted it to be as free and anti-narrative as possible. Impressionistic. Music as entertainment has in many cases, to me, become very advertorial and excessively sentimental in terms of creating narrative around albums and artists. I wanted to strip this away as much as possible to leave room for the music to create its own meaning in the lives of people who form connections with it. It's hard for me not to explain away the intricacies and ideas contained within these records after having theorised and tolled and executed them over the course of nearly three years, but I think it’s far more fitting of the album’s intent to say simply: listen to it in the dark.'

Curve 1 pulls Mura Masa into focus as one of this generation’s most influential figures. Aptly reflecting his rare standing at the heart of youth culture, Mura Masa recently co-wrote long standing collaborator PinkPantheress’ single ‘Turn It Up’, as well as creating a series of remixes for Troye Sivan’s ‘Honey’. From producing global hits like ‘Boy’s a liar Pt.2’ to seminal records like Shygirl’s Mercury-nominated Nymph, it’s a juncture that has also seen Mura Masa embark on a new chapter of his own. He has set up his label and a creative hub and arts space - The Pond - in Peckham as a base for emerging artists and likeminded creatives, which will launch officially next year. Across his three critically-acclaimed solo albums, Mura Masa has built an audience who will follow wherever his genre-defying work goes next; with 2 billion streams, headline festival sets around the world, and live shows ranging from Alexandra Palace to Warehouse Project.

Curve 1 marks a back-to-your-roots approach whilst also highlighting the trailblazing young star’s recurring theme: to capture ‘that’ curvature in pop culture, to make it Mura Masa’s own, and to push things forward.

'Curve 1 has a club focus, no f—ks attitude and production that’s mature, lush — simply put, it’s just cool.' billboard

'a scintillating love letter to club culture and sounds' Wonderland

'the Grammy-winning producer throws a total curveball. Ditching his usual dreamy pop, Mura goes full hardcore dance. From techno to vintage rave' **** The Mirror

'Get sweaty as Mura makes it messy' **** The Sunday Express

'a total curveball...intense but full of hooks' **** The Daily Star

'Mura Masa has always been ahead of the creative curve, but with his new album, the tenured producer is consciously forging a path inspired by his newfound independence.'

'a grab-bag of sounds from a brilliantly restless mind' Rolling Stone

Even though it came out on a major label, this record sells for hundreds of dollars if you can find it at all (we know…we paid for a copy), and it’s no wonder… it’s the perfect blend of raw R&B passion and smooth, sophisticated soul production. First, the passion part… Willie Tee was a New Orleans pianist and singer best known for recording a series of burnin’ 45s (some cut for Harold Battiste’s short-lived AFO label) during the ‘60s. I’m Only a Man was Willie’s album debut, cut for Capitol in 1970, and he brought the same deep-seated intensity to the record that he did his singles. The difference was, for I’m Only a Man, Willie’s warm, raspy voice was lovingly bathed in spectacular arrangements by H. B. Barnum and produced by the great David Axelrod. Strings, brass, xylophone, bluesy guitar licks, and a funky rhythm section are all percolating inside this record’s grooves, with a daring choice of material that ranges from Cannonball Adderley’s “Walk Tall” to the Bacharach-David nugget “Reach Out for Me” to the self-penned highlights “Mirror” and “Bring On the Heartaches” to the album closer “People” from Funny Girl. Capitol wasn’t known for breaking soul acts at the time, which may explain why this record remains a cult classic; we’re happy to give it the exposure it deserves, with a purple vinyl pressing limited to 1000 copies.

The learning process is just as much an act of healing as betterment. The enabling of solutions through sheer willpower and openness to discovery, or a noble mission, never completed. In that spirit, the latest album by Berlin-based Slovak duo Päfgens – comprising Jana Drábeková Kočišová and Filip Drábek – represents a pensive development for the project.

Drifting from their lo-fi shoegaze beginnings, Päfgens drone-infused soundscapes have become increasingly immersive and expressive “framed improvisations,” where spontaneous passages are captured, then revisited with fresh layers upon layers over the course of months, breathing and evolving naturally, mirroring the unpredictability of nature. Songforms have all but melted away, with ethereal guitars and bass nestling up against field-recorded sounds, synth beds, percussion, and singing bowl tones.

The framed improvisation on ‘Aspect of What’ explores love and loss, relishing both the joy and melancholy of paying tribute to Filip’s late ethnologist grandmother, Božena Filová (1926-2020). Her voice opens track 2, ‘Particles’, speaking of the humble desire to “help the people in the rural environment”, and the goal of “uplifting people to better living through education”. The album’s emotionally charged approach to improvisation is suitably uplifting and seemingly made without ego, the couple melting away into the flitting wall of rustling drones and heavenly fuzz. Even at their most serrated (the groaning guitar amp squall underpinning ‘Journey’) or when surrounded by chiming bells, clocks and bowls (‘Around the Clock’), Päfgens is ready to listen, rest, learn, and improve, extracting and nurturing hidden abstract emotion in every piece, plundering something universal and teachable from very personal depths.

Repress!

Today – Friday 9th July – artist, producer, DJ and club culture icon Peggy Gou releases the second of a pair of summer singles. Released via Gou’s own Gudu Records, “I Go” is an incredible piece of club-focused electronic music and showcases a very different sound to previous single “Nabi”.

Described by The FADER as “the kind of dazzlement you get from light dancing off of ocean water on a hot day: pure dopamine activating bliss” and Resident Advisor as “a refreshingly low-key jam”, “Nabi” was an evocative piece of slow-burning, 98bpm electronic pop, inspired by 80s synth classics, the piano pieces of renowned composer Erik Satie and the 80s and 90s Korean songs Gou's mother used to play at home during her childhood.

“I Go” takes inspiration from a similar era but this time the energy comes from Gou’s love of 90’s dance anthems, many of which she revisited during lockdown and an enforced break from touring. Both retain the hallmarks of Peggy Gou’s unique take on electronic music; at once both nostalgic and totally modern. But on “I Go”, the tempo, 808s and 909s are dialled right up for a self-motivating anthem that is set to soundtrack a summer when we can all hopefully dance together in our thousands again.

Talking about “I Go”, Peggy says:

“When I was a teenager in Korea, we didn’t have rave culture like there was in the UK. “I Go” is a tribute to that era, my own reimagination of the sounds I grew up loving. The lyrics are inspired by a note I wrote on my phone in 2019, staring at myself in the mirror of an airport toilet – I looked so exhausted but there was no way I wasn’t going to keep going! “I Go” is basically me motivating myself, finding courage and returning to a feeling of innocence. I hope people feel the same sense of positivity when they hear it”

Meanwhile, Peggy Gou is set to make a handful of DJ appearances in Europe over the summer. These include a huge sold out London event in August in the form of The Pleasure Gardens; an outdoor party in Finsbury Park created and curated by Gou herself and featuring a stellar supporting line up including DJ Harvey, Anz and Spencer.

Track List:

Die Musik zur Netflix Serie von Mike Myers. Aus der Feder von Paul & Phil Hartnoll, den legendären, kultigen, britischen Elektronik-Pionieren ORBITAL.
ORBITAL hat Musik beigesteuert zu: The Saint, Event Horizon, xXx, Spawn, Test Drive 4, Mortal Kombat, Mean Girls, Peaky Blinders, The Beach, Wipeout, Hackers, Teen Spirit, American Ultra und vielen mehr.

Doppel-LP gepresst auf Metallic Gold & Schwarzem Vinyl.