quête:not me but us

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

The practice of dub techno and its tendrils is a fundamental for me, both aesthetically and from an engineering perspective.

I start every recording session with a dub inspired jam, the first piece I ever recorded in 1996 was an effort to recreate Phylyps Trak with only a Korg X3 and an Ibanez PUE5 (borrowed from Gary Howell). It was an awesome introduction to jamming, and the footing stones of noise, delay and saturation were explored with my foot hard on the enthusiasm pedal.

These practice jams are in some sense cathartic, the first step taken again & again, which helps me move forwards each session and additionally helps to 'warm the circuits' both of myself and the machines.

After realising the genius of Basic Channel is akin to the genius of peasant food, using every ingredient with nothing left to waste, (up to and including the oft maligned working noise of the machines themselves), this was a watershed moment for my own subjective progression. No longer tied to just emulation of something inspiring, but taking these learned tools into other areas of music helped to break free from a strong current of influence and also to progress into other areas with the new toolbox.

Dub:

The importance of the dub pioneers should never be understated, in modern music and my own practice. Yet with my initial inspiration being two german dudes issuing extreme techno variants with obscured label designs, who then signposted their listeners to their own inspirations (via their Wackies re-issues or nodded to on their Rhythm & Sound/Burial Mix sub-labels), meant that I started late and travelled backwards.

Learning to notice the live mixing of Mikey Dread or Lee Perry when the faders are bleeding through even when turned down, (echoed in BC's Quadrant Dub), or the brash send effects literally thrown into the mix also taught me that 'rough' mixing can inject a recording with life, uniqueness and the most right wrongness. Looking back Basic Channels very few elements helped me realise that the rules to be understood, are also the best ones to be broken.

Push the mixer into the red.

Amp that noise up from the tape delay cos it sounds sick.

Pseudo side-chain effects cos the kicks are way too loud and the mixer can't sum it nicely.

Spam the send knob into the delay units now, now and now.

Carelessness.

Noise:

Once I wrapped my head around the intrinsic 'noise' element that set those records apart, this became a torchlight into the alt noise movements which I was tentatively exploring at the time, and also is evidently a connection or thread into them.

Whether the Industrial/Post Punk UK scene (This Heat, TG, A Tent, F.E.) or the prolific output of the US Noise scene (Wolf Eyes, Live & Shave in LA, and subsequently following the lineage all the way back to Chrome's Alien Soundtracks), I had finally discovered a connection from techno to this 'free for all' corner of music.

This input from the Noise arena of sound is, in my experience, an all important step for a sonic artist, taking it's roots and extending out from Stockhausen/Pierre Henry and utilised/warped/mangled by thousands of adventurous pioneers ever since, I now see the line separating the high brow and the low brow is actually an artery carrying information from the head to the heart.

Vault is a selection of these jams that precede each of my solo recording sessions, for 30 years I've recorded hundreds of these 'workouts'. They are never intended as serious statements, just moments of naive enjoyment, yet most importantly they are time & space captured as practice.

The objective is always a warm up exercise, but sometimes those exercises turn a different corner, with a certain focus or direction dependent on what random samples are left in my machines from the previous session, instead of conscious choices, these unconscious elements can facilitate those 'positive mistakes' that make a piece of sound retain a different feel or colour and thus become special, or at least special to the creator.

I am quite conscious that the 'record everything' aspect of my ethos has been invaluable in cataloguing and saving these jams, while the attitude of carelessness during this process (after all, it's only a warm up jam) invites more enjoyment than seriousness ever could. Even if you don't feel the piece at the time, record it, because some years later it may well fit, or become relevant in a way you never intended.

-Miles

Nu Vision is a modern salon for visionary leaders, fighting for their art, standing by truths, defending voices, honoring progenitors, whilst pushing forwards towards a new paradigm. The band all have their own stories and extensive discographies, records released on labels you might know, gigs played in places you might have attended but none of that matters. This is a new beginning. A group. A collective.A movement. Nu Vision is a band in the classic do-you-believe-in-alchemy sense. Equal parts rhythm, damage, and deep feeling. Their friends at DFA noted that the album “sounds like Depeche Mode scoring a Michael Mann montage: brooding,motorik, and shot through with black-and-blue beauty.” this idea is taken further in the first video from the album for track one / side one “Time” that launches the project publically along with the albums announcement. The palette of ‘The Seed’ is defined and refined in the best way. It’s an album that opens up many pathways. Brisker, freakier tracks like “Shadow In The Dark,” “R U Serious?” and “Humanity” run towards a softer finish with “Somedays” and the seven-minute, eyeliner-smearing closing ballad, “Lullaby Garden.” These are proper songs made with vintage machines, with a sound that carries obvious influences. ’ The Seed’ pulses forward as the body of the beast is turned inside out, wearing a beating heart on its sleeve, honoring those who left us too soon - DAF’s Gabi Delgado, Nitzer Ebb’s Douglas McCarthy, Depeche Mode’s Andrew Fletcher, and Sandwell District’s Juan Mendez. It’s important to note the emotional core of ‘The Seed’ album is the song ‘Synchronicity’ that is filled with both love and regret, the story of losing a friend without properly making amends. It is unquestionably heartbreaking, but is also delivered with a pang of hope, the feeling that with so many sunrises caught, so many additions and subtractions in life, a perspective has been gained. This is no freshman effort; but rather, a masterclass in continuing sonic education, delivering a unified experience from beginning to end. A New Vision

Nu Vision is the latest project of Duke Cooper, band leader and label boss of Nation, Kode and DirtyBlends. There are three humans who make up Nu Vision, and they all have their own stories and discographies, records released on labels you might know, gigs played in Chicago or Berlin or someone’s loft, lives lived, friends made, sleep lost - fighting for theirart, standing by truths, defending voices, honoring progenitors, whilst pushing a new paradigm. Time is both fleeting and heavy for us all, but it is not without receipts.

Nu Vision is a band in the classic do-you-believe-in-alchemy sense - equal parts rhythm, damage, and deep feeling. Drenched in nostalgia and futurism, The Seed is a singularity of sound + vision; as if heavily rotated by VJ Dave Kendall on MTV’s 120 Minutes but materialized via today’s technology.

The Seed 10 inch provides additional music inspired significant icons Section 25, Liaisons Dangeruses and Adrian Sherwood having paved the way with their prior successes..- this package of The Seed is no freshman effort; but rather, a masterclass in continuing sonic education, delivering a unified experience from beginning to end. A NU VISION.

The Seed 10 inch provides additional music inspired significant icon band: Section 25 from the period of 1981-1984 with a more electronic-dance direction, process which culminated in the album ' From the Hip ' and remix single "Looking From A Hilltop", both released in 1984 as "Insecure Man is about being true to manhood with Robert Lane leading the charge with his vocabulary message of the current state of society.

Insecure Dub focuses on the period of 1981-1984 with an alternative electronic-dance direction process as an inspired blueprint from Nu Vision inspired from Adrian Sherwood having paved the way with his individual success.

Inspired from electrifying songs produced by Chrislo Haas (DAF) and Beate Bartel (Mania D. / Matador) reinforced by Krishna Goineau’s French and Spanish Speech-Attack-Lyrics Liaisons Dangereuses created a unique style anything other than a Berlin or Düsseldorf ‘thing’ – that was propelled to an international underground phenomenon of fame.

Nu VIsion was inspired to create a blueprint from the period of their productions of 1981-1982 with an electronic-dance direction paying homage with passionate craftsmanship utilizing what equipment was possible in the studio at the time of this recording featuring new members; Zoe Murphy & Fletch The Stranger on vocals and James Chazz on Saxaphone with a Ring Modulator.

Belgian artist Jennifur announces MAZDA, an album inspired by long car rides, emotional transitions, and the strange beauty of existing between places, people, and versions of yourself.

Musically, MAZDA moves fluidly between genres and emotional textures, blending electronic love songs, indie rock structures, UK bass influences, cinematic electronica, and flashes of classical composition.

The project began when Jennifur's brother sent him a playlist called MAZDA, filled with songs their father used to play in the car. What started as a nostalgia gesture quickly became the emotional blueprint for the album.

While writing MAZDA, Jennifur realized he was unknowingly creating the soundtrack to a fictional romcom film that existed only in his imagination. Rather than avoiding clichés like love, heartbreak, growing older, or transition, he chose to embrace them wholeheartedly.

"In a car, you exist in a kind of in-between space," Jennifur explains. "You've left something behind, but you haven't arrived yet. That feeling became the entire record."

The album opener, From A to B, sets the emotional framework for the entire project. Its extended introduction mirrors the exact moment you pull out of your street and realisethat something new has begun.

Highlights include "I Need You To Hold On", written for Jennifur's brother as a message of encouragement. The song "I Once Had a Dream Where I Could Fly" originated from a conversation with his father about recurring dreams of flying. Meanwhile, "From The Sideline" confronts a quieter existential fear, becoming a coming-of-age anthem for anyone who suddenly realizes they have become more of a spectator than an active participant in their own life.

Tracks like "In The Sun" bring a softer, almost cinematic intimacy to the album. Written around the image of spending one final Sunday at the seaside with someone who is seriously ill, the song captures the beauty and fragility of fleeting moments. The closing track "The Dialogue Before We Left" serves as the emotional final scene of the album.

"For me, it's the moment after a long drive when you turn off the engine but stay seated for a minute," Jennifur explains. "You realise something happened. You listened to my story, and we travelled from A to B together."

Annie Bloch’s luvt is a quiet reorientation of the organ: away from its monumental image and ritualised spaces, towards the delicate mechanics of touch, air and friction. Across seven compositions marking her debut on OOH-sounds, the Cologne based organist and composer turns to the chest organ, a small and mobile counterpart to its larger relative, traditionally used to accompany Baroque music. On luvt, Bloch limits herself to just three stops of wooden pipes, using the instrument’s sensitive keyboard, mechanical subtle effects to crystalline sound world shaped by meditative strategies and fanciful detailing. Bloch’s approach sits at the crossroads of modern composition, new psychedelia, ambient and minimalist traditions, with occasional traces of an avant pop sensibility, while keeping the unique sound and physical character of the chest organ at its core.

The title luvt derives from the German luven, “to turn to the wind” and Luft, “air”, a gesture Bloch extends beyond the mechanics of the chest organ towards what cannot quite be grasped or put into words. Bloch follows the organ into quieter, more intimate territory, letting its monumental potential fade into the background while exploring the sensual its sound. luvt is a gentle and immersive meditation on the sound of the chest organ, revealing the instrument’s contemporary relevance while pushing its expressive possibilities into new territory.

Annie Bloch (*1994) is an organist, composer and songwriter based in Cologne, Germany. As an organist she performs solo and in alternating constellations with an improvisational and situational approach. The reality that every pipe organ as well as the space it speaks in is unique, is something she not only adapts to, but actively works with. The resulting composed improvisations explore states of change. Her pieces focus on the in-between-spaces, that are already leaning towards the next event. Searching for the ambivalences in a sound and lingering on them, her music resists singular truths. The musical material she draws from is informed by her engagement with the experimental music scene, but also by compositional styles of pop and ambient music. She has performed at Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival, Orgelpark Amsterdam, Philharmonie Köln, Moers Festival and others. As an indie-folk artist Annie Bloch released the album „I DEPEND“ (Papercup Records) with a chamber orchestral band, that she regularly performs with.

"The Whole Of The Moon" is a classic. It's a song about awe and hope and love for the people who show us the best of this often broken world, the blessed few who show the way and introduce us to things and thoughts. Keith McIvor aka JD Twitch of Optimo was one of those people, and this version of the track - electronic, euphoric, open-hearted - was made by some members of the broader Optimo community after his terminal brain cancer diagnosis in 2025. The task of making a version that could've been heard on the dance floor at Planet Peach, Mas, or the Sub Club on a Sunday night or Monday morning brought them together across oceans, an act of joy amidst so much loss. It was never intended to be released, but as it made its way to friends and others, it also felt wrong not to. Its sentiment is universal and applies to so many incredible people in music and beyond that are sadly missed. So here is the Watergirls' first and last track, presented as a limited white label with some particularly lethal mixes from Sean Johnston of Hardway Bros and A Love From Outer Space. We're giving all the profits to charity. It's meant to be played out. It's meant to make two friends hug and sing into each other's faces. It's for Keith and for everyone like him.

The almighty Joe of the Farr’s is a highly accomplished UK techno DJ, producer and mastering engineer. Originally associated with Bristol's electronic music scene, Joe studied TV and film sound design before building a solid reputation through hard-hitting, technically sophisticated techno releases on labels including Turbo, DSNT, Bloc, Soma and Power Vacuum. His concentrated output combines aggressive club-focused rhythms with melodic and IDM-inspired elements. Now based in Wales, performing internationally and on home turf, he also operates a professional mastering engineering operation of the highest esteem of which RIOT could simply not operate without, as many others will gladly attest too.

Continuing with the ‘Limited As Fuck’ series of releases, on our fiercely independent techno label based in Scotland, we’ve finally let loose the screamer of a release, from such an integral member of RIOT HQ, that’s been patiently ‘Left Alone’ and waiting for the right time to unleash its User Experience. Joe’s totally went one step beyond and cranked out a pressure filled release of not only persistent anthemic prowess but one of such rigorous determination, all those on the dance floor MUST ‘Obey’ to its diligent beats. And with Rant & Rave Records boss Maedon serving up such an iconoclastic relentless remix, you will absolutely need to submit complicitly to all things RIOT.

The full digital release also features two bonus meticulously disciplined tracks to fulfil your obedient, subservient requirements.

WARNING: NON STOP BREAKIN’ N’ STOMPIN’ N’ BOPPIN’ TO THE RIOT BEATS WILL MANIFEST ITSELF

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For ten years Spike Fuck has existed more as a messy myth than an art- ist; sporadic works forever poised on the precipice of triumph, rumours of death or insanity and so on. Spike’s mission is to distill the sacred and profane, balancing the melancholy and humour of life; “to be alive is to be traumatised.” Luckily, the devotion to his music persevered, some- what bolstered by his inconsistency and inaccessibility. This inexplicable goodwill towards his artistry is perhaps partly due to Spike’s timeless, pained and confessional lyricism, though more pointedly, the fragility of a life mired in addiction. His being or works does not question the virtue of life, but simply addresses the numb, pragmatic and far more immediate matter of surviving another day, an almost ineffable senti- ment only justified by his distinct, poetic audaciousness. Free from his arresting thoughts, evidence, the long anticipated debut album, is a bra- zen proof of life statement. Convicted by the outlandish idea of evidenc- ing a ‘you had to be there’ mentality, the record honours the presence in body, a record to be felt, never to be rationalized.

The material on evidence touches on elements of new wave, glam, soul and doo-wop, citing Pere Ubu, New York Dolls, The Temptations and Bettye Swan as key influences. Melodically it emits the energy of a down- and-out CBGBs band who cashes in by recording a lucrative Christmas album.

Spike frequently uses sonic and lyrical juxtapositions to perform comic twists of sincerity, a reflection of society's obsession with ‘getting a rise’. On “Bored to Death,” a scuzzy, laidback and soulful tune, paired with morbid ragebait lyrics that payoff as a stand up joke “when I look up at the sun it makes me so happy cause I know one day it’s gonna kill me, and it’ll kill you too!” Lead single “All By Myself” carries on in this fashion; with feelgood, family-friendly punk doo-wop production, Spike is misleading on if his joy comes from the pride in solitude, or from lone- liness and a ‘give me everything’ mentality in the act of shooting heroin. The vocal performances oscillate between being blasé, vulnerable and manic; “Sweet Release” meets power-ballad criteria solely due to Spike’s deteriorating cries into the void, the jittery delivery on “Getting Sober” embodies religious fanaticism while sounding like a pop song written by Suicide for a David Lynch film.

evidence is an album that lives outside the limits of discourse; its purpose is eponymous and self-evident. It is what it is, and is subject to interpretation. There is no point in interrogating attachments, virtue or value. The only rightful way to live is to be.

a 01. CAN'T GET IT UP 4:38
b 02. HAD YOUR WAY 4:04
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

[a] 01. CAN'T GET IT UP [4:38]
[b] 02. HAD YOUR WAY [4:04]
[c] 03. SWEET RELEASE [3:27]
[d] 04. BORED TO DEATH [3:31]
[e] 05. ALL BY MYSELF [2:38]
[f] 06. GETTING SOBER [3:33]
[g] 07. BLUELIGHT[4:35]
[h] 08. HATE ME [7:44]

Liberation Front is a statement of pure intent from Sydney, Australia's TO THE GRAVE. Brutal and uncompromising in both sound and message, TO THE GRAVE create ugly music for uglier times. They rage against animal cruelty and environmental destruction, translating their death metal-infused deathcore into something unforgettable and utterly uncompromising. From the breakdown-laden assault of opener "MEAT THE HUMANS", Liberation Front is a suffocating return to form for the veganism-espousing quintet. While recent releases explored more hardcore-oriented territory, this album embraces deathcore at its most savage and relentless. Lead single "EYESTALK ABLATIONS" is a devastating statement, accompanied by a video every bit as violent and unforgettable as the music itself. Over the past 15 years, TO THE GRAVE have established themselves among the leading names of Australia's emerging deathcore scene, sharing stages with fellow Australians Thy Art Is Murder as well as international heavyweights including Lorna Shore. The band continues to tour extensively throughout Europe and North America, returning to the US and Canada in Fall 2026 alongside Crown Magnetar. Liberation Front is more than an album—it is a musical and lyrical call to arms, designed not only to rage against the machine but to educate, provoke and challenge listeners on every level.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4/5 REVIEW IN MOJO: “HEARTBEAT TONES DISSOLVE INTO BEAUTEOUS SHIMMER AND STELLAR SYNTH MEDITATIONS GIVE WAY TO CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED ELECTRONICA.”

4/5 REVIEW IN UNCUT: “IT'S MASTERFUL, THOUGH IT WILL LEAVE YOU FEELING LIKE A SPECK OF GRAVEL IN A SELF-DESTRUCTING WORLD.”

NME - 8/10 review (w/c 14 October) "He’s mastered this stylistic skittishness and you’ll do well to find much dispute about his talent."

NARC - 5/5 review (October issue) "An immersive soundtrack to your own personal psychodrama."

WIRE - ONE PAGE REVIEW (October issue) "The sentiments it stirs to life are shadowed and ambiguous, simultaneously personal and impersonal. It is also fantastically immersive, dragging the listener into its turbulent undertows, then washing them back on dry land, intact but changed.’’

Virgins was recorded during three periods in 2012, mostly in Reykjavik, Montreal and Seattle, using ensembles in live performance.

While this album remains committed to a painterly form of musical abstraction, it is also a record of restrained composition recorded live primarily in intimate studio rooms. This record employs woodwinds, piano and synthesizers towards an effort at doing what digital music does not do naturally—making music that is out of time, out of tune and out of phase.

Some pieces go off the rails before forming into anything, others eschew crescendo
compositional structures or bombastic density while going sideways instead. It points to the ongoing development of Hecker's work. It suggests illusory memories of drug- hazed jams or communal music performance that may have never been performed or been heard.

It is an offering of music into the void, a gift of digital filler between distractions. Yet hopefully it also stands as a document of the enduring faith in the narcotic, enigmatic function of music as long-form expression.

Mixed by Valgeir Sigurðsson and Tim Hecker. Additional assistance by Randall Dunn and Ben Frost. Mastered by Mandy Parnell at Black Saloon Studios in London, UK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The process of making this mini-album “anaiis & Grupo Cosmo” was truly life-altering for me. It changed my approach to making music and really brought me back to the roots of what creation is about. I went to Salvador for a month-long artist residency in February 2020 and during that time, I not only fell in love with Brasil’s culture and music, but I also wrote “Toda Cor” with the wonderful Luedji Luna. A few years later, I reached out Biel who’d co-produced “Estrela Acesa” with Sessa to see if they’d be interested in re-developing “Toda Cor” with me. They were enthusiastic and we fully reproduced the record in December, remotely. The connection between us all was electric and it felt like there was a collective enthusiasm for creating more together so I flew out to Brasil in April 2023 to continue this exploration. The beauty behind this record really lies in the experience of making it. We all stayed together in Biel’s house in Ilhabela for a week with Cabral, who co-produced the record with us and plays bass. We would go to the beach, eat communally, share stories, be around the kids, but then spend most of the days creating and jamming together. Each day we would record our songs live to tape, not a computer in the room. By the end of the week we had this album. It was refreshing to make music in this way. The music and approach really held us in that moment and gave us a chance to create freely, in a big moment of transition in our lives in a way that truly embraces imperfection, spontaneity, just very human.

Have Isaac Carter & Callum Asa made the most tasteful tech house EP of recent memory? The short answer is
yes....

Isaac and Callum, known for their respective club nights: OCHI and Planet People have been quietly chipping away at the coalface of underground dance music for quite some time now.

Isaac - perhaps known more widely as a regular at Circoloco & Phonox has shared bills with the likes of Moodyman, DJ Bone, Kai Alce, Laurent Garnier and Marcellus Pittmann whilst being championed by Joy Orbison, Ben UFO, Moxie, Seth Troxler, Raresh and Floating Points to name but a few. With such an impressive CV and wide ranging support, it’s wild to note that the first EP released on his own label, OCHI only came out in 2023. His star is clearly ascending with rapidity - so when we throw long term collaborator Callum Asa into the mix, things start to get really interesting. Calum has been running Planet People for the last couple of years, welcoming incredible names such as Shed, Surgeon, Willow, Ploy, Cooly G, Rroxymore and so many more. Steel sharpens steel and having been surrounded by such esteemed talent, it’s clearly rubbed off on the pair who present 4 polished, meticulously constructed, club ready masterpieces, each with their own distinct feel and an insatiable groove.

‘Feel Me’ sets the scene with a descending baseline that would eek a wiggle out of the most reluctant spectator. The twisted dub eeks out even more groove, locking in a more sinister bounce for the heads. By The time ‘Understand’ get’s into full swing, we’re already under the spell of Carter & Asa, this is the kind of roller that could go on forever and ever. The synth embellishments and washes of analog synth pull us deeper and deeper in, prepping us for the finale , ’Try You’ which simmers with deep, brooding intensity.

The magic of the dup’s appeal is that this EP will find its way into the bags of the deepest diggers and also appeal to a new generation of house fans. Elements of it are accessible , but in the right hands - the EP will open a portal to new worlds.

Slacker and Seth Troxler presents He Ain’t Here. 15 tracks by Slackers for Slackers. All exclusives.

Featuring exclusive music from: Seth Troxler, O.bee & Tomas Station, Audion, Jonny Rock, Dr Dunks, Krystal Klear, Marc Houle, Hiroko Yamamura and more. This is our dysfunctional family – and this will get weird.

Seth Troxler:

"When I created Slacker I wanted to make something to remind me of my youth in the ’90s. Being born in ’85, the ’90s was a decade that defined me. Culturally America was at a pivotal point. Post Reaganism of the ’80s, the ’90s was defined by the anti-hero. The idea that we had had enough. From grunge to hip hop, house and techno.

"This was the time of independence and indie music. Life without boundaries. A world where everything felt possible and a belief that the future was coming. Home game consoles, futuristic new sports like the X Games. It was about being radical. Living life on the edge and turning away from the imaginary cookie cutter American dream.

"I feel we are in similar times. The future we were promised every day seems more like a nightmare than a utopian dream. And all we have left are our minds and bodies, but who knows how long our freedom to be an individual will exist.

"This compilation is protest – from fight songs to moments of joy. It’s about living, dancing and being. It’s for the freaks, perverts, for the rebels, for those who forever were other, and dared the impossible to just be themselves in a world where everyone wants to be the same. The revolution will not be televised because it’s within ourselves. It’s about being unapologetically individual.

"Freedom is a state of mind as well as a state of being. Being a slacker is as much about pushing, as it is about being. Not giving a f#ck about the rules and making your own. I’m a slacker, you’re a slacker, a loser and nobody. History will forget me, history forgot Elvis.

"The world is about to change. Might as well have a bit of fun while it burns. Welcome to our dysfunctional family. Join us for the bonfire, I promise you things are going to get weird, in the best possible way. HE AIN’T HERE."

‘Va Va Voom’ – “Turbo-driven melodies and bittersweet vignettes”, The Times – was the debut album from Cinerama but, of course, not the debut from the band’s protagonist – David Gedge. Originally released in 1998, it was David’s first musical project outside of The Wedding Present, who, by then, had released five albums and established themselves as one of the UK’s most uncompromising and influential indie rock bands.

To be released in three formats, this celebratory re-imagining of ‘Va Va Voom’ sees David revisiting that remarkable debut. The Deluxe Edition consists of two coloured vinyl LPs and two CDs containing both a full studio re-recording of the original album together with a live recording of the album from August 2023, which can also be viewed on an accompanying DVD. A Double CD + DVD set contains both these recordings, along with the aforementioned DVD, while a Picture Disc also features the studio re-recording. All sets boast stunning new artwork.“In 1997, I took a break from being in The Wedding Present and began exploring the idea of writing songs on my own at home, using the new technology that had recently become available. That gave me the freedom to explore writing in the style of different kinds of music, such as the classic pop records of the 1960s and 1970s and the work of film composers like John Barry and Ennio Morricone. I used samplers and sequencers for the demos and session musicians in the studio, so there wasn’t a Cinerama ‘band’, as such, until we started playing live after ‘Va Va Voom’ had been released. Last year I decided to mark the 25th anniversary of that release by playing the album in full at my annual Brighton festival, ‘At The Edge Of The Sea’. I was struck by how different ‘Va Va Voom’ sounded, being played by a live band as opposed to those studio session musicians – there’s more vibrancy and energy – so I decided to re-record it!” - David Gedge

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

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

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

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

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

A DJ, producer and significant figure in contemporary electronic music, Marcel Dettmann steps forward to contribute to Running Back’s ongoing Mastermix series. Whereas previous editions of Mastermix have taken an ear to the sound of lapsed, legendary clubs such as Wild Pitch and Front, Dettmann’s curation deftly captures the man himself in ongoing perpetual motion, raiding the vault for his own precision-tooled edits, long-employed on dancefloors to devastating effect. Alongside a continuous mix, this release arrives as a 3LP gatefold, and as a limited edition cassette.

Closely associated with Berlin’s techno landscape, Dettmann was born and raised in the former GDR, then later immersed in the bleary-eyed counter cultural landscape of post-unification Berlin. Initially oriented by post-punk, industrial and new-wave music, Dettmann has been DJing since 1993, always expanding and perfecting his repertoire. He later began working behind the counter at the city’s tastemaking rave boutique Hard Wax, and a decade after he first dropped a needle, became (and remains) resident at notable local nightspot Berghain/Panorama Bar, where his instincts have helped sculpt the signature sound of both main dancefloors.

Of course, you’re probably not asking, “Who is Marcel Dettmann?” More importantly, you might want to know; just what treats has he gifted us here? The trip begins with a simple pitch-shift skywards, transforming Identified Patient’s creeping ‘The Female Medical College of Pennsylvania’ into a peak-time freakout, before an alternate take on Toctronic’s ‘Bis uns das Licht vertreibt’ emerges from the vaults for the first time. Dating from 1995, and one of Dettmann’s all-time favourites, Cristian Vogel’s ‘Untitled’ clambers back into the box with respectable cuts, while John Bender’s ‘Victims of A Victimless Crime’ kicks off the flip sporting a new arrangement, transporting us back to the foundations of a confident, stripped-back sound.

A few subtle edits to Clark’s perilously funky ‘Dirty Pixie’ takes us to Dettmann’s remix of Junior Boys. Produced in 2010, it transposes the Canadian duo’s sophisticated pop with our curator in his minimal prime, and has since become an irresistible prize for high-minded diggers. The same can be said for Experimental Products’ explosive proto-electro anthem ‘Who Is Kip Jones?’, empowered from pricey Discogs purgatory with just the slightest of tweaks. It’s deservedly sandwiched between the guiding influences of Chicago and Detroit in the form of Mutant Beat Dance’s raw ‘The Human Factor’ and a shimmering new version of previous solo production ‘Water’, featuring close friend and Ostgut Ton ally, Ryan Elliot.

The second half of the Mastermix seamlessly connects the mechanical past and digital present of EBM and industrial in the dance, with Dettmann’s instincts as a guiding hand. Severed Heads’ iconic ‘We Have Come To Bless This House’ emerges with mere nips and tucks, while Nitzer Ebb’s ‘Shame’ is significantly reimagined as a highwire act of rhythm and tension, setting up a sensual second take on a 2017 remix of ‘Limbo’ from Swiss synth heroes, Yello.

Core musical memories are shaken and stirred with a context-shifting take on Frank Duval’s emotional classic ‘Ogon’, while Ian North’s ‘Sex Lust You’ and Ford Proco’s notable Coil collaboration ‘Expansion Naranja’ effectively throb with only minor adjustments, respectfully imagined as “shadow versions”. Meanwhile, a simple breakbeat lifts Albert Kuningas’s ‘Astraalprojektio’ in the direction of wide-eyed dancefloors, while a fresh take on K-Alexi Shelby’s ‘Season of The Real’ inexplicably emerges somehow even funkier than before.

The conclusion of the compilation leads back to Das Tier from the prolific experimentalist Conrad Schnitzler, whose swirling synths and hypnotic vocals are duly tightened by Dettmann, but only as he puts it, “in conversation with the original.” Concluding three discs and thirty years of commitment to the dancefloor, this Mastermix not only offers us the opportunity to eavesdrop on this endless exchange, but to gain some sought-after material for our own record collections.

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


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


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

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


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


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

Five years after establishing himself as one of the UK's most distinctive selectors, Bloom marks the beginning of a new chapter for Yung Singh. More than a debut EP, it introduces EKTA his own label and creative world, built around the Panjabi concept of unity and the belief that dance music can be a meeting point for cultures, histories and new ideas.

Rather than treating heritage as something to preserve behind glass, Bloom places it at the centre of contemporary club music. Drawing inspiration from Panjabi folk traditions, Indian classical rhythms and centuries-old musical practices, Singh reimagines these influences through a modern electronic framework without reducing them to nostalgia or tokenism. The visual identity mirrors this philosophy, taking cues from Phulkari embroidery "flower work" passed down through his own family and connecting those traditions with the idea of growth, renewal and the arrival of a new creative season.

Finalised while touring Panjab during Basant, the festival celebrating the arrival of spring, Bloom became both a personal and artistic statement: the first release on a label intended not to represent one culture alone, but to create space for many. As Singh explains:

"EKTA as a name really sums up what I love about music and arts in general: unity and oneness. I want the label to be a sonic universe where artists bring their specific heritage into a modern club framework. It's about merging diverse folk traditions to treat these sounds not as relics, but as the future of dance music."

Across three tracks, Bloom presents different perspectives of that vision. 'NUG46' transforms field recordings captured in New Zealand into a meditative piece built around hypnotic tabla and razor-sharp jungle rhythms. 'Situationz' pays tribute to legendary Panjabi artist Sukshinder Shinda through the driving "Shinda Break", recontextualising a rhythm instantly recognisable to generations of listeners into a high-energy club weapon. Closing the record, 'Tabla Trouble' leans fully into organic instrumentation, layering classical percussion, strings, flutes and vocals into a composition that defines the open-ended musical language of EKTA.

Bloom is not simply the first release on a new label. It is the foundation of a wider vision one that looks to the past not for comfort, but for inspiration, using tradition as a catalyst for imagining the future of dance music.

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


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


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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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

A space is often described by its dimensions. The height of the ceiling, the expanse between walls. Division into functional elements of varying density follows. We have ideas of how such dimensions should be balanced to work well for sound — the classical concert hall, a Northward mastering room.

It’s tempting to try and use this idea of space to understand Space the group (Lisa Ullén, Elsa Bergman, Anna Lund). To calculate their cartesian co-ordinates: dynamics that run from whisper soft to punishing, shaking force; Ullén’s piano running the full expanse of the frequency spectrum; the mix of sudden, surprising and suggested variations in density (the space) that generates their musical structures.

But (a) space is a social phenomenon where meaning is accumulated and possibilities created by and through a constantly shifting set of social relations and their histories and entanglement inside and beyond the physical structures of a room or building. Reduced to its raw dimensions, Cafe OTO shouldn’t sound good: the low ceiling, the hollow void underneath the stage-not-stage, the hard glass windows out onto the street. But OTO as a social space — for gathering close to listen; the serious pursuit of a convivial good time (its productive mythology that an OTO audience is both up for it but also expects more); and then the idea of all that has happened before and what will come; that this is also part of ‘the music’ and changes what sounds to the point that none of those cartesian co-ordinates matter.**

It’s less of shock that Space sound good. Lisa Ullén is easily the most singular pianist in Sweden right now and Elsa and Anna’s ability to reroute in realtime reaffirms just how well they function as a group. The trio might have got their shit together holding down the rhythm section for the first incarnation of Anna Högberg Attack — but much like Högberg’s ongoing pursuit of artistic renewal, the trio avoid being shackled to any ideas about what a piano trio should be and there is something that happens (happened) in that room, on that night, with those people that made for something beyond just good.

It’s a gift that the sound of every concert at OTO gets recorded. A choice handful of these transcend their decoupling from that social space and radiate the room’s attendant energies. This record is one of them.

** See Jack Halberstam in Fred Moten & Stefano Harney, The Undercommons (2013): “…we must refuse the idea that music happens only when the musician enters and picks up an instrument; music is also the anticipation of the performance and the noises of appreciation it generates and the speaking that happens through and around it, making it and loving it, being in it while listening."

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought I knew you, but you are alien to me.”

Twelve years have passed since TWINS NATALIA’s debut album, “Destiny Room”, but Dave, Marc and Steve have never really stopped working on new ideas and projects, including the release of a mini-album from Marc’s solo project SHIBUYA STATION. This featured their first collaboration with Greek artist KRIISTAL ANN (also known from PARADOX OBSCUR), who provided the vocals for the track “Madness”. This led to Anna being invited by TWINS NATALIA to perform lead vocals on their cover version of KNOW’s “Knights of Pleasure”. The results were so pleasing that, from then on, Anna was persistently ’pestered’ to work on a TWINS NATALIA EP, which slowly morphed into a complete album entitled “I Died On Mars”. The album is a journey through electronic soundscapes and pure, dark ’80s minimal synth-pop, full of melancholia, haunting melodies, elaborate synth sound design and sequencing, ranging from neat to gnarly, and, of course, KRIISTAL ANN’s charismatic voice icing the cake.

“I Died On Mars” presents us with further surprises: TWINS NATALIA version of “The Dagger In Me” by ’80s Greek post-punk legends THE HANDS OF CAIN, as well as “A Different Hum” by PARADOX OBSCUR, a song that surely needs no further introduction. Anna has not shied away from specially re-recording the vocals for this version, while both versions have been given some distinctly Twins Natalia-specific additions and treatments. Furthermore, Anna has contributed her own composition “Find Me I A Fantasy”, so you’re in for a treat or two, for sure.

Mastering by Nikolas Haldoupis at SoundCave Studios Athens.

Graphic design by Steve Lippert with some original photography by Kriistal Ann.

“I thought I knew you, but you are alien to me.”

Twelve years have passed since TWINS NATALIA’s debut album, “Destiny Room”, but Dave, Marc and Steve have never really stopped working on new ideas and projects, including the release of a mini-album from Marc’s solo project SHIBUYA STATION. This featured their first collaboration with Greek artist KRIISTAL ANN (also known from PARADOX OBSCUR), who provided the vocals for the track “Madness”. This led to Anna being invited by TWINS NATALIA to perform lead vocals on their cover version of KNOW’s “Knights of Pleasure”. The results were so pleasing that, from then on, Anna was persistently ’pestered’ to work on a TWINS NATALIA EP, which slowly morphed into a complete album entitled “I Died On Mars”. The album is a journey through electronic soundscapes and pure, dark ’80s minimal synth-pop, full of melancholia, haunting melodies, elaborate synth sound design and sequencing, ranging from neat to gnarly, and, of course, KRIISTAL ANN’s charismatic voice icing the cake.

“I Died On Mars” presents us with further surprises: TWINS NATALIA version of “The Dagger In Me” by ’80s Greek post-punk legends THE HANDS OF CAIN, as well as “A Different Hum” by PARADOX OBSCUR, a song that surely needs no further introduction. Anna has not shied away from specially re-recording the vocals for this version, while both versions have been given some distinctly Twins Natalia-specific additions and treatments. Furthermore, Anna has contributed her own composition “Find Me I A Fantasy”, so you’re in for a treat or two, for sure.

Mastering by Nikolas Haldoupis at SoundCave Studios Athens.

Graphic design by Steve Lippert with some original photography by Kriistal Ann.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Familiar. Usually reserved for things we think we know. A face, a place, a feeling, a record perhaps. Until, of course, they aren’t quite the same anymore. Or maybe you aren’t.
Jennifer’s debut album lives somewhere around there.
It’s a record about time, which is already a fairly ambitious subject considering nobody seems to have figured that one out yet. More specifically, it’s about what
time does to a person. The old versions, the new versions, and all the ones in between that you only notice when something suddenly brings them back. Someone you
haven’t seen in years. A room you used to know. A certain way the light falls. That sort of thing.

There’s a bit of a doppelgänger situation going on, too. Finding something completely new and somehow recognising it. Meeting yourself again without immediately realising who you’re talking to.
Which can be nice. Or strange. Usually both. The songs on Familiar sit comfortably with that contradiction. Looking backwards without wanting to go back. Missing things without necessarily wanting them
returned. Realising that people who once occupied most of your waking hours can become people whose address you don’t know. Meanwhile, some tiny, seemingly irrelevant detail from fifteen years ago remains perfectly intact.
Memory has its own filing system. Not a particularly sensible one.
Jennifer wrote a series of poems alongside the album. In them, familiarity appears in melting snow, rough coastlines, a kitchen already warm in the morning, somebody’s hands fitting into yours. Elsewhere she wonders about someone she
once knew everything about and now knows nothing about. They could live around the corner. They could live on another continent. They could, technically, be dead. Probably not. But that’s time for you.
Maybe Familiar is less about remembering who you were than realising you never entirely stopped being them. Things get added. Things disappear. Things come back looking slightly different.
And somehow, you recognise them.

Black Truffle is thrilled to announce a second volume of unheard concert performances from legendary Pakistani kyhal singer Salamat Ali Khan, recorded at Berlin’s Neue Nationalgalerie as part of the MetaMusik festival in 1974. Like the first volume, the immaculate recording by Michael Hönig (of krautrock legends Agitation Free) captures Khan performing a single extended raag in the company of Shaukat Hussein Khan on tabla and Hussein Bux Khan on harmonium. In addition to his stunningly inventive and moving vocal performance, Khan is heard accompanying himself on a specially tuned alpine zither (in place of the traditional swarmandal, an Indian style of zither). The lack of an underlying tanpura drone gives the music its characteristic floating quality, with the three instruments and voice masterfully dancing around one another as they sketch the outlines of this grand, 40-minute Raag Chandrakauns.

If anything, this epic performance of the late-night Raag Chandrakauns is even more seductively spacious and psychedelic than the music heard on the first volume. Obeying the traditional shape of Hindustani classical vocal music performance, a gradual rise in both pitch and rhythmic activity, the music hovers for twenty minutes in a reflective calm, the pulse only gently stated by the tabla while harmonium ornamentation and zither strums float by. In this meditative space, Khan gradually orients us to the contours of the raag, beginning with long notes at the bottom of his register. His improvisation at once builds with a stunningly firm sense of internal logic and seems liberated to explore every melodic and ornamental byway that comes up along the way. By the time we turn to the record’s second side, the music has grown into something far more frenetic, with virtuoso tabla passages at times occupying centre stage between Khan’s increasingly rhythmic melodic variations. Concluding with a sequence of unison tabla and voice passages of breathtaking complexity, the performance is met with rapturous applause. Arriving in a blue-toned variant of the first volume’s sleeve, with acclaimed musicologist Peter Pannke’s liner notes in the original German, Metamusik Festival Berlin ’74 Volume II is not to be missed. Essential listening not just for Hidustanti classic aficionados, but for anyone who needs reminding of the magic of collective music making in the moment.

Following the success of Under Tangled Silence last year which peaked at number one in the Dance Albums charts and peaked at 9 on the Albums Chart staying in for 21 weeks, DjRUM returns to Houndstooth with a 15 minute continuous EP pressed to side A and a custom etched picture disk on Side B.

Felix (DjRUM) was a child prodigy as an instrumentalist and his advanced musicality has always been prominent in his music, but here he has put himself front and centre as a composer. And this sense of exposure as a performer interweaves with an unflinching emotional openness too. Where sometimes electronic production as advanced as this can use intellect and techniques as shields from soul-baring, this is the sound of someone who can boldly say “I feel things, I cry all the time, and I'm not afraid to say it or show it in the music.” But this doesn’t mean there’s a move away from the soundsystems and dancefloors where Felix made his name as a uniquely innovative vinyl DJ, this EP encapsulates his musical upbringing weaving in percussive elements across the stereo field to create a truly mesmerising listening experience.

San Francisco electronic pioneers Darwin Chamber and DJ Spun head down the arcade for four tracks of the unmistakable flavour of modified 8 Bit sound chips from the 80s. 'LFO's Are Real' definitely nods to the Leeds duo that kicked the Warp Records revolution off, but that's just a starting point for some rough edged electro machinations and some spooky extra-terrestrial samplings. '8-Bit Phantasy' connects Chicago-style piano magic with acid undertows and gets brought to dancefloor life by a serious injections of funky ass breakbeatery. 'Intruder Alert' is the gnarliest of the lot, the bass end nothing if not speaker threatening, before 'We Gotta Get' is wonderfully disorientating disco dub delirium. Raw and direct, this will set the floor alight quicker than a can of petrol and lit match.

The tracks on the upcoming Boysonic release are a snapshot of a period largely absent from the discussion around Romanian electronic dance music: the first half of the 1990s.

Boysonic’s music was made in the face of considerable adversity, in a Romania still reeling from the aftermath of the 1989 revolution, spiralling inflation of over 200%, and the violence of the early-1990s Mineriads. In the gatefold photos, one of the band’s members can be seen performing live wearing a miner’s safety helmet, a piece of stagewear, but also a charged symbol of the period.

The original music on Madhouse was made in Bra?ov during 1993–1994. Situated away from Bucharest’s political and cultural centre, Bra?ov gave the project its own slightly detached rhythm. Classically trained in piano and active in local radio, Mihai Barb developed Boysonic as a largely one-man act, often joined live by a changing cast of dancers and vocalists. In the absence of a developed club circuit, early performances took place in pre-1989 concert halls, seaside resorts and local entertainment circuits organised around regional radio stations.

Agnostic in genre and unusually fluid in approach, Madhouse moves through downtempo pop burners, KLF-type UK house, boomy breakbeat, new beat and acid-leaning experiments. The material reflects a short-lived moment before the Romanian mainstream/underground divide had fully taken shape, when electronic music lacked infrastructure but not imagination.

Sampling was used generously, with drum loops, vocal fragments and preset banks repurposed through software such as ProTracker and further processed outboard.

The release comes as a 2xLP gatefold.

Remixes are from Benedikt Frey, Boysonic, Cosmin TRG, Flore of Khidja, Romansoff, and Tankwart.

Murmuration’ is the low hum made by vast, beautifully choreographed flocks of starlings as they simultaneously flap their wings and take to the sky. Some people say that the frequency of this unique, rumbling, oscillating sound can cure diseases...

One of the most exciting live bands in the UK, British Birds combine the garage-punk energy of Billy Childish, the wry English sophistication of XTC and the witty pop inventiveness of The Lovely Eggs. Like a murmurating flock of starlings, they create a unique sound, and might even be able to cure diseases.

Based in Chorley, Lancashire, British Birds are a resolutely DIY band. Bobby records and mixes all the music; Emma creates all the artwork. Their first two albums were self-released, selling hundreds of copies at gigs and at a few chosen record stores. British Birds didn’t wait for permission to take flight. They just got on with it. Their songs are sophisticated, hard-hitting, and very skilful. It may be DIY, but it’s big and it’s ambitious.

Sessions for Marc Riley and Gideon Coe have followed, along with tours supporting The Bug Club, BC Camplight and Lovely Eggs.

‘Murmurate, Oscillate’ kicks off with Lie Down With Dogs, Stand Up With Fleas, a rousing expression of exasperation at our passivity in the face of lame authority. British Birds are acute observers of the English political scene, shrouding their observations in humour and surrealism. Polka Dot Eyes is another piece of sharp social observation: it portrays Lancashire lads – friends from school – who join the Army and return home physically and mentally damaged. The song is simultaneously disturbing, funny and catchy as hell. From the fog of disinformation and doubt that surrounds us all in 2020s Britian, British Birds embrace the darkness, but with wit and verve – no slogans, no easy answers – and with an energy that helps us escape the mundanity of a declining island. This might all sound a bit bleak, but it’s not: every single one of the songs on this album has a chorus as big as a house.

There are personal songs too: Scary Movies is a poignant description of Bobby and Emma’s grandfather, who delighted in showing them horror films when they were kids – giving them sneak previews of the darkness they’d come to embrace as adults; Just Like Them is a celebration of introversion: it might not be fun, but it’s better than being an idiot. (Paradoxically, any other introverts who hear this song will feel impelled to join in in the chorus.) Blame Game and Thunder Claps examine the darkness inherent in relationships: there is always an impending storm, if you recognise the low hum of the imminent thunder. Once again: the choruses of these songs confound the melancholy sentiment.

You’ll get the same impression if you see British Birds live: Bobby’s ferocious guitar and dark lyrics are counterpointed with Emma’s sometimes haunting, sometimes playful vocal responses and insistent rhythms. You’ll be swept away by the energy of a band who don’t know the meaning of limits. And as the songs get darker and darker the smile on your face gets wider and wider.

The core members of British Birds are siblings Bobby and Emma Townson, working from their HQ-cum-nest in Chorley. Drums are by Dominic Lawson (apart from Michael Aindley on ‘Just Like Them’). Bass is by James Robinson.

British Birds will be embarking on a headline tour of the UK in early 2027.

2026 Repress

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yesca is back on Shall Not Fade with ‘Paint on Walls’ 12” EP.

2024’s Yesca EP on SNF - “Mood Loops” - set a high bar, so when we say this record is something special you should take note. Of course if you already know Yesca’s music or have had the pleasure of a Yesca DJ set then you will have already this queued up.

Sweet Spot: Ben Sims, Deetron, Oliver Ho, Vince Watson, Grain (Artwork’s Techno alias). Planet-E, Primate Recordings, Paul Mac & Stimulus Recordings found the sweet spot.

According to the OED the first use of the phrase “Sweet Spot” was in 1976 in reference to tennis rackets and golf swings. It’s where everything hits just right. And that’s what this EP does, hits just right. What strikes me is how descriptive the phrase ‘Sweet Spot’ is. Given enough swings and some luck we all know what it feels like to hit the sweet spot in some regard. Finding the sweet spot regularly though takes time and skill. But being able to hit the sweet spot by design every time, well that’s something different. That’s what makes the greats great.

For us at SNF there’s a consensus that in the lineage of electronic music there have been many moments where artists & labels converged on a sweet spot. One such sweet spot for us is in Techno
around 2003 when at the tail end of Hardgroove tempos began to slow and a groovier more refined tech house infused goodness appeared in the racks from a group of killer techno labels & artists (some mentioned above) that moment before the fuller emergence of the 2nd wave of Tech House in the mid 00’s.

That sound, while often emulated, never quite hit the same for us at least – until Yesca came along. His music has everything that we love about that sweet spot. Raw driving groove, rolling basslines and hip shaking percussion. What’s different on ‘Paint on Walls’ is that Yesca stepped on - he had already found the sweet spot on 2024’s Mood Loop EP - now his sound (or swing) is natural. Repeatable, refined and seemingly effortless. To revisit the tennis and golf analogy, this is the start of a Grand Slam run from an artist ready to etch their name in dance music history. Tiger..... Serena......Yesca.

Run the Tracks:
‘How I Do It (They Wonder)’ - A masterclass in less is more, and a serious DJ tool. Full of groove - slow it down and it will light the touchpaper in a house set - speed it up and you’ve got techno weaponry. Forget gatekeeping, this will make you feel like you just found a 2004 techno white label from the likes of Grain or Ben Sims.

‘I Desire’ - House music that I reckon Deetron would be proud of... Blissed out machine funk, whispered vocals, slick jazzy chords and dubbed out techno stabs are all grounded by Yesca’s impeccable, loopy drum programming. The best tunes always end too soon.

‘Domination’ - The ever rising bass, err, dominates this track and this track will dominate on many a dancefloor, but Yesca's knack for dubbed out swinging synth lines has to get a shout out here too. He turns what would be melodic elements into what feels like part of the percussion. Double Threat. Hands Up and Heads Down business.

‘Paint on Walls’ - It would be a tough call to say Yesca’s saved the best til last with the EP’s eponymous track given what’s come before, but Paint On Walls works all the highlights from the rest of the EP into a latin techno/house infused anthem. Skittering percussion, a hint of Detroit goodness and a deep deep rolling bassline and THAT vocal. In every way hopeful yet resistant, and that is what techno is all about.

*COMES IN GATEFOLD 2LP WITH LINER NOTES*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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