Suche:our oceans

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

They Came Like Swallows is the first album-length collaboration between Thurston Moore and Kramer (now officially Bonner Kramer), two giants of alternative/ experimental music. The accomplishments and influence of these two artists in the world of independent music cannot be overstated and the result of their artistic union is a startlingly cohesive statement that burns through landscapes of primitive outsider rock, avant-garde composition, progressive ambient and further locales boldly and beautifully unnamable. “Kramer and I reconnected in Miami, Florida, a few years back, many many years after each of us had departed NYC on separate life adventures. It was only a matter of time before Kramer and I started making plans to record together and with his irrepressible due diligence he quickly set up a mobile recording contraption in the pad I was decamped in, the Florida sunshine flowing through the palm leaves, lithe lizards skittering across the windowsills, and we just went for it.

Kramer had the idea to cover a Joy Division tune, a left turn from the improvisations we had been tracking, though wholly in keeping with both our sensibilities of light and dark unifying in transcendent songwriting, both of us devotees of 'the song' as well as 'the freedom.’ What transpired is They Came Like Swallows, a session we immediately felt should exist as a prayer to the war-torn souls of the families of Palestine continually decimated by the brutality of genocide. We agreed beyond words to offer our music as a sonic activism and as a beneficent energy. This album is our duo exchange for human dignity, it is our soul music for any semblance of a peaceful planet.” ~ Thurston Moore “For the first time in our nearly 45 years of friendship, we had identical time windows open to make a record together,” recounts Kramer. After all this time not a moment is wasted as the duo immediately taps into the heightened core of improvisational tension across these seven offerings. Volcanic opener “Urn Burial” notches a similar historic union (John Cale and Terry Riley) to meet the circumstances of the moment, with swirling mists of organ and pounding toms over guitar that thickens the atmosphere with jagged, grimy dissonance.

Solemn strings open the second track, “The Redness In The West,” with Kramer’s cello and viola in dueling bow beneath the high tension drive and sustain of Thurston’s electric guitar, tapping out a Morse code of tension that mounts endlessly into a fog of inevitable war by the end. Moore and Kramer’s sense of experimentalism is in free and full grandeur throughout They Came Like Swallows, though the duo keep a strong and constant sideways eye on melody, composition and architecture, to the ends that any strict lines between song and improvisation are blurred beyond qualification.

As if to punctuate this point, Swallows closes with a nightwork cover of Joy Division’s “Insight,” a doleful coda that breathes out with a solemn inner grace under Thurston’s instantly stylistically recognizable guitar melodies as they weave into he and Kramer’s unison voices. As the lone vocal piece and only traditional ‘song’ form on the album, “Insight” is unique to this set and as a closing statement draws connective lines back to the kind of dynamic, electrified melodicism that wove deep, melancholy patterns into the untamed fire of Sonic Youth’s Sister and Daydream Nation. In the album’s final moments, the two voices repeat the lyric “I’m not afraid anymore” as mantra, underscoring the heavy, unsettled themes and methods that preceded it. Kramer describes the creative process of They Came Like Swallows: “I had composed and recorded a few pieces at my home studio over the course of a couple weeks. Thurston was spending the winter in South Florida, so I flew down and spent a few days recording his guitar parts in his home there. Watching him spontaneously compose his parts was pretty astonishing, to say the least. Once we'd finished working on those pieces, we began improvising and following wherever the music pointed us, and another few pieces were born. We got straight to it, without anything driving us other than the joy of finally working together.

My personal goal was to remain present and catch as many surprises as I could from Thurston's guitar work, and there were plenty during those few days. We had a fucking blast.” Thurston’s contributions here will be readily familiar to any acolytes of his other works, the through-line between his inspired playing, cradled in Kramer’s meticulous, solid arrangements. “If I had to make this record again, I'd do it all exactly the same way,” Kramer says. “It’s like jazz, you don't think about it. You just do it. It was miraculous, and you don't fuck with a miracle.”

I Talk To Water, the fifth album for Kompakt by Danish producer Kölsch, is the artist’s most personal statement yet. While all the trademarks that make his music so popular and powerful are still present – lush, melodic techno; swooping, trance-like figures; sensuous, shivery texturology – I Talk To Water is also a deep and intimate rapprochement with family and history, a beautiful, finely detailed document of loss and memory, and a tracing of the long, unbroken thread of grief that runs through our lives once we’ve lost those we loved.

The emotional core of I Talk To Water, then, is a cache of recordings by Kölsch’s father, Patrick Reilly, who passed away in 2003 from brain cancer. With time rendered elastic by the pandemic and its associated lockdowns, its sudden, alienating shifts in everyday living, Kölsch found himself reflecting on his father’s passing and ongoing spiritual presence, thinking about how best to memorialise such a significant figure in his own life. Those recordings opened a gateway, of sorts, for Kölsch to move through – a way to bring past and present together and entwine them in a sensitive, poetic manner.

Kölsch’s father was a musician – “touring in the sixties and seventies, in the Middle East especially, he was doing the whole hippy trail, playing guitar, and wrote some songs over the years,” he recalls. “But all in all, he decided to focus on family rather than pursue a musical career.” Reilly kept playing and writing music over the years, though Kölsch hadn’t listened to the material for some time: “I’d never had the guts to listen to it, because I just felt too fragile listening to his voice. It’s such a tough thing to go through.”

During the pandemic, though, Kölsch listened through the fragmented body of work that his father had produced over the years. “I decided I’m gonna finally release my dad’s music twenty years after his passing,” he reflects. “This whole album is about the process of loss, and for me it’s been one of my main driving forces in my musical life, the whole emotional aspect of whatever I’ve done has been based in that feeling that he’s not there anymore.”

Recordings of Reilly appear on three songs across I Talk To Water. His guitars drift pensively across “Grape”, offering a lush thread of melody that Kölsch wraps with clicking, driftwood rhythms and droning, melancholy bass. “Tell Me” is a lovely three-minute art song, a sadly beautiful reflection, minimally adorned with gentle keys and a muted pulse. And on the closing “It Ends Where It Began”, Kölsch lets his father’s acoustic guitar take centre stage for a lament that’s unexpectedly folksy, a guitar soli dream, which Reilly originally recorded in 1996. “He actually recorded it for my first album that never came out,” Kölsch reveals, “and I had it sitting around forever. That is purely him.”

These three imagined collaborations between father and son are poised and delicate. But their relationship also marks the gorgeous music Kölsch has made across the rest of I Talk To Water, from the itchy yet lush “Pet Sound” (titled in tribute to one of Reilly’s favourite albums), the flickering synths and yearning vocal samples that slide through “Khenpo”, the ecstatic shuddering that marks “Only Get Better”, or “Implant”’s slow-motion pans and subtle reveals.

There’s also the title song, where Kölsch is joined by guest Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros), singing a mantra for internal reflection: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrell’s appearance brings another timbre, another spirit to the album, aligning neatly with his recent interest in electronic music. “He was completely taken by this idea of talking to water,” Kölsch says, thinking about the ways we collectively lean towards the natural world as a comfort and a listener, a guide through mourning, a way to map out the terrain of the heart. This mapping is something that Kölsch has proven remarkably adept at through the years; dance music for both body and mind, but also both for the here-and-now, and for the hereafter.

“I Talk To Water”, das fünfte Album des dänischen Produzenten Kölsch für Kompakt, ist zweifellos das persönlichste Statement des Künstlers bislang. Während alle Markenzeichen, die seine Musik so beliebt und kraftvoll machen, immer noch präsent sind – üppige, melodische Techno-Tracks; schwebende, tranceartige Elemente; sinnliche, fiebrige Texturen – ist “I Talk To Water” auch eine tiefe und intime Annäherung an Familie und Geschichte. Es ist ein wunderschönes, fein ausgearbeitetes Dokument des Verlusts und der Erinnerung, und es verfolgt den langen, ungebrochenen Faden der Trauer, der durch unser Leben läuft, sobald wir diejenigen verloren haben, die wir liebten.

Der emotionale Kern von “I Talk To Water” besteht aus Aufnahmen von Kölschs Vater, Patrick Reilly, der 2003 an Hirnkrebs verstarb. Durch die Pandemie und ihre damit verbundenen Lockdowns, die plötzlichen, entfremdenden Veränderungen im Alltag, fand Kölsch sich in Gedanken an den Tod seines Vaters und seine fortwährende spirituelle Präsenz wieder. Er überlegte, wie er eine so bedeutende Figur in seinem eigenen Leben am besten verewigen könnte. Diese Aufnahmen öffneten ihm sozusagen ein Portal, um Vergangenheit und Gegenwart miteinander zu verbinden und sie auf sensible und poetische Weise zu verweben.

Kölschs Vater war Musiker – “er tourte in den sechziger und siebziger Jahren, vor allem im Nahen Osten, auf dem Hippie Trail, spielte Gitarre und schrieb im Laufe der Jahre einige Songs”, erinnert sich Kölsch. “Aber alles in allem entschied er sich, sich auf die Familie zu konzentrieren, anstatt eine musikalische Karriere zu verfolgen.” Reilly spielte und schrieb jedoch im Laufe der Jahre weiterhin Musik, obwohl Kölsch das Material lange Zeit nicht angehört hatte: “Ich hatte nie den Mut, es anzuhören, weil ich mich einfach zu zerbrechlich fühlte, seine Stimme anzuhören. Es ist so schwer, das durchzustehen.”

Während der Pandemie hörte sich Kölsch jedoch durch das fragmentierte Werk, das sein Vater im Laufe der Jahre produziert hatte. “Ich beschloss, die Musik meines Vaters zwanzig Jahre nach seinem Tod endlich zu veröffentlichen”, reflektiert er. “Dieses ganze Album handelt von dem Verlustprozess, welcher für mich generell eine der Hauptantriebskräfte in meinem musikalischen Leben ist. Der ganze emotionale Aspekt von dem, was ich getan habe, basierte auf dem Gefühl, dass er nicht mehr da ist.”

Auf “I Talk To Water” sind Aufnahmen von Reilly in drei Songs zu hören. Seine Gitarren ziehen nachdenklich durch “Grape”, bieten einen üppigen Melodiefaden, den Kölsch mit klickenden, treibenden Rhythmen und dröhnendem, melancholischem Bass umwickelt. “Tell Me” ist ein schönes dreiminütiges Kunstlied, eine traurig-schöne Reflexion, minimal geschmückt mit sanften Tasten und einem gedämpften Puls. Und auf dem Abschlusstrack “It Ends Where It Began” lässt Kölsch die akustische Gitarre seines Vaters im Mittelpunkt stehen, ein überraschend folkiger Klagegesang, den Reilly ursprünglich 1996 aufgenommen hatte. “Er hat es tatsächlich für mein erstes Album aufgenommen, das nie veröffentlicht wurde”, enthüllt Kölsch, “und ich hatte es ewig liegen.”

Diese drei erdachten Kollaborationen zwischen Vater und Sohn sind ausgewogen und zart. Aber ihre Beziehung prägt auch die wunderschöne Musik, die Kölsch im Rest von “I Talk To Water” geschaffen hat, angefangen bei dem nervösen, aber üppigen “Pet Sound” (benannt als Hommage an eines von Reillys Lieblingsalben), den flimmernden Synthesizern und sehnsüchtigen Vocal-Samples in “Khenpo”, den ekstatischen Erschütterungen in “Only Get Better” oder den langsamen Schwenks und subtilen Enthüllungen in “Implant”.

Es gibt auch den Titelsong, in dem Kölsch von Gast Perry Farrell (Jane’s Addiction, Porno For Pyros) begleitet wird, der ein Mantra für die innere Reflexion singt: “I talk to water / Searching for myself / Looking for answers / Oceans of you.” Farrells Auftritt bringt eine weitere Klangfarbe, einen weiteren Geist in das Album, der gut zu seinem jüngsten Interesse an elektronischer Musik passt. “Er war völlig fasziniert von der Idee, mit Wasser zu sprechen”, sagt Kölsch und denkt darüber nach, wie wir kollektiv zur Natur als Trost, Zuhörer, Führer durch die Trauer neigen, um die Gelände des Herzens zu kartieren. Diese Kartierung ist etwas, in dem Kölsch im Laufe der Jahre erstaunlich geschickt war; Tanzmusik für Körper und Geist, sowohl für das Hier und Jetzt, als auch für das Leben danach.

This is the First Volume of Illegal Alien LTD new Various Artists Compilation Series called 'Between Lands & Oceans' this series will become an annual compilation and it will be presented in Vinyl, CD, Cassette and Digital format. For our first Volume, we are proud and delighted to count with all this great artists, some of them already with a very successful career and others with a very promising future. Nothing but quality Techno music inside this Various Artists and we thank everyone that is involved on the first Volume of Between Lands & Oceans.

Featuring a prestigious line-up of guests, the album Sonars brings together iconic voices alongside Maxime Dangles and Tommy Rizzitelli: Oxmo Puccino (Continent plastique), Craig Walker, former lead singer of Archive & Power of Dreams (Bug and Delusion), and Aur (Reef).



Conceived during the Art/Science project of the same name, Sonars draws inspiration from reflections on ecology and the shifting biodiversity of our oceans and rivers. It was in Rimouski, on the shores of Quebec’s Saint Lawrence River, that the duo immersed themselves in the imagery and sensations that breathe life into this record. The result is a collection of breathless, driving tracks—a masterly fusion of machines and drums where organic textures meet the urgency of the climate crisis.

Tape Source’s Romain Da Silva Santos further enriches the album with his guitar work, while the visual identity is graced by the work of photographer Jean Gaumy, whose iconic photography features on the cover.

If you could go back in time ten years, what would you want to tell yourself? This was a question Khruangbin posed to themselves when approaching the ten-year anniversary of their debut album, the once cult classic, now genre-defining work The Universe Smiles Upon You. “If we could go back and tell ourselves how much was going to happen to us after that record, what would we want to
celebrate?” asked Laura Lee, bassist, vocalist, and founding member of the band. Instead, they thought: “Let’s do it again.”
The Universe Smiles Upon You ii was recorded on January 4-6, 2025, in the same family barn of guitarist Mark Speer, across the
same dates where TUSUY was first conceived ten years earlier. Though the conditions were the same–dirt floor, brutally cold,
minimal sound isolation, all takes live–the songs aren’t. They’re re-approached, some changed more than others, harnessing the lightning-in-a-bottle energy of TUSUY while discovering what would be unique this time around, in this stage of the band’s life.
The result moves like ripples on the water across ten hypnotizing tracks, the barn creating a sense of spaciousness, serenity and creative freedom, nearby wildlife (listen out for the birds on “August Twelve ii”), rattles and creaks of the barn and all. It’s a tapestry of small movements in nuanced arrangements, slowly revealing the new life, stories and character of someone you’ve met again for the first time in ten years.

Period Music is a research process involving Susanna Gonzo, Merma Suelo, Tuce Alba, Elizabeth
Gallon Droste, Agnese Menguzzato, and Farah Hazim. The six artists aim to attune to the different
temporalities experienced through our bodies, drawing from multiple meanings of period – from the
menstrual cycle to musical repetitions and astronomical revolutions.

r'tu
A central meaning of the Sanskrit word for ritual, r'tu, is menstruation, the original ritual. The root of
r'tu is in arithmetic and rhythm/.

Period Music has been staying with essential matters on how we listen to time and rhythms in our
bodies and in the world. Questioning the tempo of everyday life in an accelerated system like that of
modern society, the group has opened up co-creation spaces to listen to embodied memories.
Through dialogue, improvisation and jam sessions, the six artists attuned to e ach other’s processes,
composing music, word scores and drawings – ultimately sounding together.

This work embodies other notions of community through archetypes, embracing the impermanence
that reveals the countless rhythms of life. Period Music speaks of friendship and connection, and
invites you to take on a journey of interconnectedness between our rhythms and the broader social
structures influencing our lives.

The project emerges from conversations that began in Berlin in the fall of 2023, including a one-week
residency at Atelier Josepha in Ahrenshoop by the Baltic Sea in April 2024. The first physical iteration
of this project will consist of a book and a vinyl. The album features looping improvisational compositions encoded with messages about multiple temporalities. The accompanying book gathers poetic memories, letters, photographs, symbols, and drawings that emerged during the process

Can a self-portrait be a collage? Can empathy be autobiographical? What's the point of living if we're not trying to understand all the horror and humor that surrounds everything? These are a few of the questions lurking under the bleachers of Wednesday's new album Bleeds, an intoxicating collection of narrative-heavy Southern rock that_like many of the most arresting passages from the North Carolina band's highlight reel so far_thoughtfully explores the vivid link between curiosity and confession. Bleeds is not only the best Wednesday record_it's also the most Wednesday record, a patchwork-style triumph of literary allusions and outlaw grit, of place-based poetry and hair-raising noise. Karly Hartzman_founder, frontwoman, and primary lyricist_credits Wednesday's tightened grasp on their own identity to time spent collaborating on previous albums, plus a tour schedule that's been both rewarding and relentless. "Bleeds is the spiritual successor to Rat Saw God, and I think the quintessential `Wednesday Creek Rock' album," Hartzman said, articulating satisfaction with the ways her band has sharpened its trademark sound, how they've refined the formula that makes them one of the most interesting rock bands of their generation. "This is what Wednesday songs are supposed to sound like," she said. "We've devoted a lot of our lives to figuring this out_and I feel like we did." Just like Rat Saw God, one of the defining rock & roll records of the 2020s so far, Bleeds came together at Drop of Sun in Asheville and was produced by Alex Farrar, who's been recording the band since Twin Plagues. Hartzman again brought demos to the studio, where she and her bandmates _X andy Chelmis (lap steel, pedal steel), Alan Miller (drums), Ethan Baechtold (bass, piano), and Jake "M.J." Lenderman (guitar) _ worked as a team to bulk-up the compositions with the exact right amounts of country truth-telling, indie-pop hooks, and noisy sludge. More than ever, the precise proportions were steered by the lyricism_not only its tone or subject matter, but also the actual sound of the words, as well as Hartzman's masterfully subjective approach to detail selection. Every image or scene is filtered through Hartzman's agile, writerly brain. The particulars deemed essential all contain revelations about Hartzman's specific obsessions and vulnerabilities, about the fragmented way she processes the world. Maybe sometimes the best way to locate truth or pain or dignity within your own life story, Bleeds suggests, is by crawling into someone else's.

Can a self-portrait be a collage? Can empathy be autobiographical? What's the point of living if we're not trying to understand all the horror and humor that surrounds everything? These are a few of the questions lurking under the bleachers of Wednesday's new album Bleeds, an intoxicating collection of narrative-heavy Southern rock that_like many of the most arresting passages from the North Carolina band's highlight reel so far_thoughtfully explores the vivid link between curiosity and confession. Bleeds is not only the best Wednesday record_it's also the most Wednesday record, a patchwork-style triumph of literary allusions and outlaw grit, of place-based poetry and hair-raising noise. Karly Hartzman_founder, frontwoman, and primary lyricist_credits Wednesday's tightened grasp on their own identity to time spent collaborating on previous albums, plus a tour schedule that's been both rewarding and relentless. "Bleeds is the spiritual successor to Rat Saw God, and I think the quintessential `Wednesday Creek Rock' album," Hartzman said, articulating satisfaction with the ways her band has sharpened its trademark sound, how they've refined the formula that makes them one of the most interesting rock bands of their generation. "This is what Wednesday songs are supposed to sound like," she said. "We've devoted a lot of our lives to figuring this out_and I feel like we did." Just like Rat Saw God, one of the defining rock & roll records of the 2020s so far, Bleeds came together at Drop of Sun in Asheville and was produced by Alex Farrar, who's been recording the band since Twin Plagues. Hartzman again brought demos to the studio, where she and her bandmates _X andy Chelmis (lap steel, pedal steel), Alan Miller (drums), Ethan Baechtold (bass, piano), and Jake "M.J." Lenderman (guitar) _ worked as a team to bulk-up the compositions with the exact right amounts of country truth-telling, indie-pop hooks, and noisy sludge. More than ever, the precise proportions were steered by the lyricism_not only its tone or subject matter, but also the actual sound of the words, as well as Hartzman's masterfully subjective approach to detail selection. Every image or scene is filtered through Hartzman's agile, writerly brain. The particulars deemed essential all contain revelations about Hartzman's specific obsessions and vulnerabilities, about the fragmented way she processes the world. Maybe sometimes the best way to locate truth or pain or dignity within your own life story, Bleeds suggests, is by crawling into someone else's.

"Laurel Hell" ist ein Soundtrack zur Transformation. Eine Landkarte für den Ort, an dem Verletzlichkeit und Widerstandsfähigkeit, Trauer und Freude, Fehler und Transzendenz in unserer Menschlichkeit Platz finden und als würdig angesehen werden können - um letztendlich anerkannt und geliebt zu werden. "I accept it all," verspricht MITSKI. "I forgive it all." Auf "Laurel Hell" festigt MITSKI ihren Ruf als Künstlerin, die die Kraft besitzt, unsere wildesten und zwiespältigsten Erfahrungen in ein heilendes Elixier zu verwandeln. "I wrote what I needed to hear. As I've always done." Nach der Veröffentlichung von "Be The Cowboy", einem der meistgelobten Alben des Jahres 2018, das von Outlets wie Pitchfork (u.a.) zum Album des Jahres gekürt wurde, stieg MITSKI vom Kultliebling zum Indie-Star auf. Mit spürbaren Folgen: Die Schinderei des Tourlebens und die Fallstricke die mit der erhöhten Sichtbarkeit einhergingen, beeinflussten ihre Musik ebenso wie ihren Geist, die sich in der ersten Single "Working For The Knife" niederschlägt. Ein Song, wie ein Prüfstein für das Gesamtgefühl von "Laurel Hell": "I start the day lying and end with the truth / That I'm dying for the knife." "Be The Cowboy" wurde von weiblicher Stärke und Trotz angetrieben, lebte jedoch von seinem Spiel mit Masken. Wie der Berglorbeer bzw. die "laurel hell", nach dem das neue Album benannt ist, kann die öffentliche Wahrnehmung, wie das berauschende Prisma des Internets, eine verlockende Fassade bieten, hinter der sich eine tödliche Falle verbirgt. Die sich immer enger zieht, je mehr man sich anstrengt. "I got to a point, where I just knew that if I kept going this way, I would numb myself to completion." Erschöpft von diesem verzerrten Spiegel und unserer Sucht nach falschen Binaritäten, begann MITSKI, Songs zu schreiben, die die Masken abstreifen und die komplexen und oft widersprüchlichen Realitäten dahinter offenbaren. MITSKI dazu: "I needed love songs about real relationships that are not power struggles to be won or lost. I needed songs that could help me forgive both others and myself. I make mistakes all the time. I don't want to put on a front where I'm a role model, but I'm also not a bad person. I needed to create this space mostly for myself where I sat in that gray area." Die daraus entstanden Songs verkörpern genau diesen Raum. Wie die zweite Single des Albums, "The Only Heartbreaker", die gemeinsam mit Dan Wilson geschrieben wurde und der erste Song dieser Art in ihrer Diskografie ist. "The Only Heartbreaker" verbindet treibenden 80er-Pop mit einem trügerisch einfachen Text, dessen aufrichtiger Refrain ins Ironische kippt, sobald dieser "the person always messing up in the relationship, the designated Bad Guy who gets the blame," beschreibt und sich zugleich fragt, ob "the reason you're always the one making mistakes is because you're the only one trying." MITSKI schrieb viele Songs für "Laurel Hell" während und teilweise vor 2018. Das Album wurde allerdings erst im Mai 2021 final abgemischt. Es ist die längste Zeitspanne, die MITSKI jemals für ein Album gebraucht hat und für die Musikerin inmitten einer radikal veränderten Welt endete. MITSKI nahm "Laurel Hell" mit ihrem langjährigen Produzenten Patrick Hyland in der Zeit der Isolation während der Pandemie auf, als einige der Songs "slowly took on new forms and meanings, like seed to flower." Das Album als Ganzes entwickelte sich "to be more uptempo and dance-y. I needed to create something that was also a pep talk" erklärt MITSKI. Die Spannung, die zwischen ihren raffinierten, aber wehmütigen Texten und dem sprudelnden Pop-Sound der 1980er Jahre entsteht, ist eine dringend benötigte Infusion in Zeiten wie diesen und das Werk einer reifen wie unwiderstehlichen Künstlerin, die auch zu fröhlich ansteckenden Dance-Beats immer noch etwas Profundes beizutragen hat.

Ready for take off?

With his new album 'Cruise Control', Satin Jackets presents a perfect musical soundtrack for relaxed moments that take us away from the stresses of everyday life. The title of the album is meaningful: 'Cruise Control' stands for the feeling of switching on the autopilot, leaning back and enjoying the journey to the fullest - an atmosphere that the album unfolds.

The album is a collection of singles that have been released over the last few years and are all interwoven at their core. Because no matter where you listen to the songs, they work, images arise in your head and your feet rarely stay still. Satin Jackets remains true to himself with his album sound, as he repeatedly receives feedback from listeners who appreciate the positive mood in his songs and which always puts them in a good mood.

The songs are first created in the producer's head and then develop together with the features, who add their own touch. For Satin Jackets, 'the most important thing is this immediate feeling that it fits musically and atmospherically'. This can also come out of nowhere, as was the case with David Bay and Small Black, who got in touch with the producer and it was an instant fit.

'There are always those magical moments when a song comes out of nowhere. Once I had an idea for a chord sequence that I couldn't get out of my head, but somehow that certain something was still missing. I then spontaneously asked a bassist friend of mine if he would like to play something to it - ten minutes later we had a hook that carried the whole piece. It's these unexpected, spontaneous inspirations that make the process so exciting.'

'Cruise Control' is more than just another album from Satin Jackets. It is an invitation to enjoy the moment and surrender to the music - a soundtrack that creates a good mood and takes us on a relaxing journey. So just switch on the autopilot again, put on your headphones and let yourself go.

Ready for take off?

Satin Jackets präsentiert mit seinem neuen Album "Cruise Control" einen perfekten musikalischen Begleiter für entspannte Momente, die uns vom Alltagsstress befreien. Der Titel des Albums ist vielsagend: "Cruise Control" steht für das Gefühl, den Autopiloten einzuschalten, sich zurückzulehnen und die Reise in vollen Zügen zu genießen - eine Atmosphäre, die das Album entfaltet.

Das Album ist eine Sammlung der Singles, die über die letzten Jahre erschienen und im Kern alle miteinander verwoben sind. Denn egal, wo man die Songs hört, sie funktionieren, es entstehen Bilder im Kopf und die Füße bleiben selten still. Mit dem Albumsound bleibt Satin Jackets sich treu, denn immer wieder bekommt er die Rückmeldung von Hörer:innen, die die positive Stimmung in seinen Songs schätzen und die immer wieder für gute Laune sorgt.

So entstehen die Songs zuerst im Kopf des Produzenten und entwickeln sich im Anschluss gemeinsam mit den Features, die ihre eigene Note mit einbringen. Für Satin Jackets ist es "das Wichtigste dieses unmittelbare Gefühl, dass es musikalisch und atmosphärisch passt". Das kann auch aus dem Nichts kommen, so wie bei David Bay und Small Black, die sich bei dem Produzenten meldeten und es sofort passte.

"Es gibt immer wieder diese magischen Momente, in denen ein Song quasi aus dem Nichts entsteht. Einmal hatte ich eine Idee für eine Akkordfolge, die mir nicht aus dem Kopf ging, aber irgendwie fehlte noch das gewisse Etwas. Ich habe dann spontan einen befreundeten Bassisten gefragt, ob er etwas dazu spielen möchte - zehn Minuten später hatten wir einen Hook, der das ganze Stück getragen hat. Es sind diese unerwarteten, spontanen Eingebungen, die den Prozess so spannend machen."

"Cruise Control" ist mehr als nur ein weiteres Album von Satin Jackets. Es ist eine Einladung, den Moment zu genießen und sich der Musik hinzugeben - ein Soundtrack, der für gute Stimmung sorgt und uns auf eine entspannte Reise mitnimmt. Von daher einfach mal wieder den Autopiloten einschalten, , Kopfhörer aufsetzen und fallen lassen.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves.Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl's newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single "Not Hell, Not Heaven" outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. "It's about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim," explains vocalist Kat Moss. "It's trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain't working for me." The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on "Fantasy." "It's incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated," Moss says. "`Fantasy' is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard." The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, "Are We All Angels," asking questions like, "Is this all there is?" and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. "It's about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn't matter how `good' or `bad' you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do," explains Moss, noting that punctuation on "Are We All Angels" has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl's debut, 2021's How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record's sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called "Seeds to Sow," that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. "It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we're fulfilling that," says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023's widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next.Scowl's growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band's scope. "Will would say, `Everything you have here is correct, but it's in the wrong place,'" says Gilbert. Moss adds: "Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses." But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. "Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate," says guitarist Malachi Greene. "At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes."

A sequel to the 2001 series Blue Planet, it took 4 years to complete this seven part new exploration of the underwater worlds, with 125 expeditions across

39 countries and 6000 hours of underwater filming. The series was broadcast on BBC One on 29 October 2017 with viewing figures exceeding 10m and

its exposure of plastic pollution in our oceans has started a global conversation about reducing plastic waste, now more relevant than ever.

With over 120 soundtracks to his credit which have grossed 24 billion dollars at the box office, Hans Zimmer has been honoured with many accolades:

an Academy Award, two Golden Globes, three Grammys, an American Music Award, a Tony Award and The Henry Mancini Award for Lifetime Achievement.

His Academy Award nomination for Interstellar marked his 10th Oscar nomination.

The composition is completed by Jacob Shea and David Fleming from Emmy and BAFTA nominated Bleeding Fingers Music. Bleeding Fingers has created

original music for productions including the Fox’s The Simpsons, BBC’s Planet Earth II, National Geographic’s Princess Diana In Her Own Words, NBC’s hit

Little Big Shots, Sony’s Snatch (TV), Amazon’s American Playboy, AMC’s The Making Of The Mob, Netflix original Roman Empire and History Channel’s Mountain Men.

Music is a language. This new label is a hypothetical sound trip between skyscrapers, wild places, deep imaginary oceans in our mistreated, but fascinating globe. No specific musical genre, but a sort of global beat, winking especially at the Balearic sounds. You can call them edits or re-publications, but our belief is that you can make tracks that are extremely expensive, in their original version or that have never been printed on vinyl. Imaginária wants to respect the publishers, authors, producers and musicians of the published songs, but fundamentally you who promote our idea.

From the moment she began writing her new album, Japanese Breakfast’s Michelle Zauner knew that she wanted to call it Jubilee. After all, a jubilee is a celebration of the passage of time—a festival to usher in the hope of a new era in brilliant technicolor. Zauner’s first two albums garnered acclaim for the way they grappled with anguish; Psychopomp was written as her mother underwent cancer treatment, while Soft Sounds From Another Planet took the grief she held from her mother‘s death and used it as a conduit to explore the cosmos. Now, at the start of a new decade, Japanese Breakfast is ready to fight for happiness, an all-too-scarce resource in our seemingly crumbling world.


Jubilee finds Michelle Zauner embracing ambition and, with it, her boldest ideas and songs yet. Inspired by records like Bjork’s Homogenic, Zauner delivers bigness throughout - big ideas, big textures, colours, sounds and feelings. At a time when virtually everything feels extreme, Jubilee sets its sights on maximal joy, imagination, and exhilaration. It is, in Michelle Zauner’s words, “a record about fighting to feel. I wanted to re-experience the pure, unadulterated joy of creation...The songs are about recalling the optimism of youth and applying it to adulthood. They’re about making difficult choices, fighting ignominious impulses and honouring commitments, confronting the constant struggle we have with ourselves to be better people.”

Throughout Jubilee, Zauner pours her own life into the universe of each song to tell real stories, and allowing those universes, in turn, to fill in the details. Joy, change, evolution - these things take real time, and real effort. And Japanese Breakfast is here for it.

From the moment she began writing her new album, Japanese
Breakfast’s Michelle Zauner knew that she wanted to call it
‘Jubilee’. After all, a jubilee is a celebration of the passage of time
- a festival to usher in the hope of a new era in brilliant technicolor.
Zauner’s first two albums garnered acclaim for the way they
grappled with anguish; ‘Psychopomp’ was written as her mother
underwent cancer treatment, while ‘Soft Sounds From Another
Planet’ took the grief she held from her mother’s death and used it
as a conduit to explore the cosmos.
Now, at the start of a new decade, Japanese Breakfast is ready to
fight for happiness, an all-too-scarce resource in our seemingly
crumbling world.
‘Jubilee’ finds Michelle Zauner embracing ambition and, with it, her
boldest ideas and songs yet. Inspired by records like Bjork’s
‘Homogenic’, Zauner delivers bigness throughout - big ideas, big
textures, colours, sounds and feelings. At a time when virtually
everything feels extreme, ‘Jubilee’ sets its sights on maximal joy,
imagination and exhilaration. It is, in Michelle Zauner’s words, “a
record about fighting to feel. I wanted to re-experience the pure,
unadulterated joy of creation… The songs are about recalling the
optimism of youth and applying it to adulthood. They’re about
making difficult choices, fighting ignominious impulses and
honoring commitments, confronting the constant struggle we have
with ourselves to be better people.”
Throughout ‘Jubilee’, Zauner pours her own life into the universe
of each song to tell real stories and allowing those universes, in
turn, to fill in the details. Joy, change, evolution - these things take
real time and real effort. And Japanese Breakfast is here for it.
Available on clear with yellow swirl coloured vinyl.

Love is a first kiss, a late night call, an ache of longing that can break your heart or a long drive with the top down to anywhere but here. Love can equally be contained, repressed and longed for as much as it can save, nurture and embolden. Love is a measure of our humanity or how lost we have become. In her new album, How Love Bends, Reb Fountain muses on the transformative power of love. Imprinted with our fear, desire, hurt and hope as much as it is an expression of our suffering and joy, love is an ever-evolving shapeshifter that lives in our marrow; magnetic and emergent it is loosed by its archer to ride on the wind. Reb's medium is that of a surrealist, playing with the stories that we tell ourselves she harnesses the sage wisdom of the dream; we embark upon a limitless exploration of love, life and loss within a landscape entirely of Reb's making. Reb's love is the stuff of chaos and oceans, vulnerability and revolution; stirring up the depths of the human condition and dancing with the richness of who we really are. Unapologetic, vulnerable, heartbroken and commanding; this is How Love Bends. How Love Bends is at once haunting and alluring, mystical and triumphant. Reb is a seeker, actively reaching for the expanse. A reverent explorer she traverses the turbulent and tidal with heartbreaking vulnerability and blazon courage. The result is an emergent odyssey; a dynamic dreamscape unfolding and revealing itself mid-evolution. Reb has explored new approaches to songwriting revealing nuanced layers with endless depths.

Love is a first kiss, a late night call, an ache of longing that can break your heart or a long drive with the top down to anywhere but here. Love can equally be contained, repressed and longed for as much as it can save, nurture and embolden. Love is a measure of our humanity or how lost we have become. In her new album, How Love Bends, Reb Fountain muses on the transformative power of love. Imprinted with our fear, desire, hurt and hope as much as it is an expression of our suffering and joy, love is an ever-evolving shapeshifter that lives in our marrow; magnetic and emergent it is loosed by its archer to ride on the wind. Reb's medium is that of a surrealist, playing with the stories that we tell ourselves she harnesses the sage wisdom of the dream; we embark upon a limitless exploration of love, life and loss within a landscape entirely of Reb's making. Reb's love is the stuff of chaos and oceans, vulnerability and revolution; stirring up the depths of the human condition and dancing with the richness of who we really are. Unapologetic, vulnerable, heartbroken and commanding; this is How Love Bends. How Love Bends is at once haunting and alluring, mystical and triumphant. Reb is a seeker, actively reaching for the expanse. A reverent explorer she traverses the turbulent and tidal with heartbreaking vulnerability and blazon courage. The result is an emergent odyssey; a dynamic dreamscape unfolding and revealing itself mid-evolution. Reb has explored new approaches to songwriting revealing nuanced layers with endless depths.

Die Modern Folk-Künstlerin Jensen McRae hat das Veröffentlichungsdatum ihres mit Spannung erwarteten zweiten Albums „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ bekannt gegeben, das am 25. April über Dead Oceans erscheinen wird. Zusammen mit der Ankündigung hat sie auch ihre neueste Single und das Video „Praying For Your Downfall“ veröffentlicht, ein Meisterwerk der Offenheit, das Witz und Charme verbindet, während McRae darüber nachdenkt, wie sie den Drang nach Rache an jemandem, der ihr das Herz gebrochen hat, loslassen kann.



Jensen McRae - Praying For Your Downfall (Official Video)



Vor dem Hintergrund von Herzschmerz, Selbstfindung und der Komplexität der Liebe ist „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ eine mutige Entwicklung für die junge Künstlerin. Das elf Titel umfassende Album, das in North Carolina mit Brad Cook (Waxahatchee, Bon Iver) aufgenommen wurde und an dem Nathan Stocker (Hippo Campus), Matthew McCaughan (Bon Iver) und ihr Bruder Holden McRae mitgewirkt haben, ist eine lebendige Sammlung von Songs, die von messerscharfen Texten und zeitlosen Pop-Melodien getragen werden. McRaes Stimme ist so vielseitig wie ihr Songwriting - mal flüsternd und strukturiert, dann wieder klar und hell. Es ist eine Stimme, die sowohl den Herzschmerz des Verlassenwerdens als auch die Stärke des Verlassens verkörpert.



Von Anfang an haben sich die Fans in Jensen McRae verliebt, für ihre scharfsinnigen, aufrüttelnden und klarsichtigen Songs. Ihr Songwriting ist verletzlich, ja, aber es ist auch stark, weil es sich nicht zurückhält. „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ zeigt McRaes Entwicklung von einer vielversprechenden jungen Künstlerin zu einer echten Songwriterin und Star. „Die tiefgreifendsten Entscheidungen meines Lebens“, sagt McRae, “haben sich oft wie Dinge angefühlt, die ich getan habe, bevor ich dazu bereit war, und in die ich hineinwachsen musste.“ „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ handelt davon, was folgt, wenn man dem widerstanden hat, von dem man dachte, dass es einen vernichten würde. Es geht darum, seine Grenzen kennenzulernen und zu erfahren, wozu man fähig ist. „Ich verband mich mit dem Gedanken, dass ich leicht unter dem Gewicht dessen, was mir widerfahren ist, hätte zusammenbrechen können, aber ich tat es nicht. Ich wusste es nicht einmal“, sagt sie, ‚aber ich war die ganze Zeit kugelsicher“. Jensen McRae ist in L.A. geboren und aufgewachsen und hat fast ihr ganzes Leben lang Musik studiert und gemacht. In der High School nahm sie am Grammy Camp teil und schloss ihr Studium an der USC Thornton School of Music mit einem Abschluss in Popular Music ab. McRaes Debütalbum „Are You Happy Now?“ schrieb sie größtenteils im Alter von 21 Jahren und war der erste Schritt zum Aufbau einer treuen Fangemeinde. „Are You Happy Now?“ navigiert die Identität von ihren tiefsten Grundlagen - dem Leben als junge, gemischtrassige schwarze und jüdische Frau - bis hin zu ihren persönlichsten Überlegungen - vertraue ich dir, vertraue ich mir selbst. McRaes Vertrauen in sich selbst hat sich mehrfach bestätigt, zuletzt und vielleicht am bekanntesten in Form des Songs „Massachusetts“. McRae postete eine Solo-Strophe und einen Refrain, kaum mehr als ein Stück eines Demos, und es fing Feuer im Internet. Covers, Duette und eine Lawine neuer Fans folgten, und McRae krönte den Moment mit einer fertigen Version und einer sommerlangen Tournee als Support von Noah Kahan. „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ nimmt McRaes mittlerweile beachtliche Fähigkeiten auf und macht sie massentauglich. „Savannah“ ist ein Song für alle, die schon lange dabei sind. Der pulsierende, an Country angelehnte Song erinnert sofort an das Beste von Phoebe Bridgers, wobei McRae in einem akrobatischen Flüsterton über einer federleichten akustischen Gitarre singt. Wenn „Savannah“ sein Crescendo erreicht, wird klar, dass McRae eine Künstlerin mit einer ganz eigenen Kraft ist, wenn sich Klavier und Gitarre überlagern und McRae eine Reihe bissiger Anklagen mit Schärfe und Überzeugung vorträgt: "You swore you'd raise our kids to end up just like you / well you're a false prophet / and that's a goddamn promise." Währenddessen ist „Let Me Be Wrong“ eine echte Hymne, eine beschwingte Ode an die Ablehnung von Perfektionismus. Wiederum auf einem einfachen Gesang und einer Akustikgitarre aufbauend, steigert sich „Let Me Be Wrong“ Schritt für Schritt in seinem Trotz; die Gitarren schichten sich, das Schlagzeug nimmt das Tempo auf, und McRae macht Platz für die Fehler aller. Wenn McRae knurrt „fuck those girls got everything“, ist das ein Schlag voller Kraft und Verletzlichkeit, der darum bettelt, unisono so laut wie möglich gebrüllt zu werden. Der ungewöhnliche Titel ihres zweiten Albums? Er stammt aus einer Zeile in McRaes Lieblingsfilm „Zurück in die Zukunft“. Ein Hauptdarsteller überlebt einen Kugelhagel, und dieses Bild hat McRae sehr beeindruckt. „Ich habe mich mit dem Gedanken angefreundet, dass ich leicht unter dem Gewicht dessen, was mir passiert ist, hätte zusammenbrechen können, aber das habe ich nicht. Ich wusste es nicht einmal“, sagt McRae, “aber ich war die ganze Zeit über kugelsicher.“

Die Modern Folk-Künstlerin Jensen McRae hat das Veröffentlichungsdatum ihres mit Spannung erwarteten zweiten Albums „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ bekannt gegeben, das am 25. April über Dead Oceans erscheinen wird. Zusammen mit der Ankündigung hat sie auch ihre neueste Single und das Video „Praying For Your Downfall“ veröffentlicht, ein Meisterwerk der Offenheit, das Witz und Charme verbindet, während McRae darüber nachdenkt, wie sie den Drang nach Rache an jemandem, der ihr das Herz gebrochen hat, loslassen kann.



Jensen McRae - Praying For Your Downfall (Official Video)



Vor dem Hintergrund von Herzschmerz, Selbstfindung und der Komplexität der Liebe ist „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ eine mutige Entwicklung für die junge Künstlerin. Das elf Titel umfassende Album, das in North Carolina mit Brad Cook (Waxahatchee, Bon Iver) aufgenommen wurde und an dem Nathan Stocker (Hippo Campus), Matthew McCaughan (Bon Iver) und ihr Bruder Holden McRae mitgewirkt haben, ist eine lebendige Sammlung von Songs, die von messerscharfen Texten und zeitlosen Pop-Melodien getragen werden. McRaes Stimme ist so vielseitig wie ihr Songwriting - mal flüsternd und strukturiert, dann wieder klar und hell. Es ist eine Stimme, die sowohl den Herzschmerz des Verlassenwerdens als auch die Stärke des Verlassens verkörpert.



Von Anfang an haben sich die Fans in Jensen McRae verliebt, für ihre scharfsinnigen, aufrüttelnden und klarsichtigen Songs. Ihr Songwriting ist verletzlich, ja, aber es ist auch stark, weil es sich nicht zurückhält. „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ zeigt McRaes Entwicklung von einer vielversprechenden jungen Künstlerin zu einer echten Songwriterin und Star. „Die tiefgreifendsten Entscheidungen meines Lebens“, sagt McRae, “haben sich oft wie Dinge angefühlt, die ich getan habe, bevor ich dazu bereit war, und in die ich hineinwachsen musste.“ „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ handelt davon, was folgt, wenn man dem widerstanden hat, von dem man dachte, dass es einen vernichten würde. Es geht darum, seine Grenzen kennenzulernen und zu erfahren, wozu man fähig ist. „Ich verband mich mit dem Gedanken, dass ich leicht unter dem Gewicht dessen, was mir widerfahren ist, hätte zusammenbrechen können, aber ich tat es nicht. Ich wusste es nicht einmal“, sagt sie, ‚aber ich war die ganze Zeit kugelsicher“. Jensen McRae ist in L.A. geboren und aufgewachsen und hat fast ihr ganzes Leben lang Musik studiert und gemacht. In der High School nahm sie am Grammy Camp teil und schloss ihr Studium an der USC Thornton School of Music mit einem Abschluss in Popular Music ab. McRaes Debütalbum „Are You Happy Now?“ schrieb sie größtenteils im Alter von 21 Jahren und war der erste Schritt zum Aufbau einer treuen Fangemeinde. „Are You Happy Now?“ navigiert die Identität von ihren tiefsten Grundlagen - dem Leben als junge, gemischtrassige schwarze und jüdische Frau - bis hin zu ihren persönlichsten Überlegungen - vertraue ich dir, vertraue ich mir selbst. McRaes Vertrauen in sich selbst hat sich mehrfach bestätigt, zuletzt und vielleicht am bekanntesten in Form des Songs „Massachusetts“. McRae postete eine Solo-Strophe und einen Refrain, kaum mehr als ein Stück eines Demos, und es fing Feuer im Internet. Covers, Duette und eine Lawine neuer Fans folgten, und McRae krönte den Moment mit einer fertigen Version und einer sommerlangen Tournee als Support von Noah Kahan. „I Don't Know How But They Found Me!“ nimmt McRaes mittlerweile beachtliche Fähigkeiten auf und macht sie massentauglich. „Savannah“ ist ein Song für alle, die schon lange dabei sind. Der pulsierende, an Country angelehnte Song erinnert sofort an das Beste von Phoebe Bridgers, wobei McRae in einem akrobatischen Flüsterton über einer federleichten akustischen Gitarre singt. Wenn „Savannah“ sein Crescendo erreicht, wird klar, dass McRae eine Künstlerin mit einer ganz eigenen Kraft ist, wenn sich Klavier und Gitarre überlagern und McRae eine Reihe bissiger Anklagen mit Schärfe und Überzeugung vorträgt: "You swore you'd raise our kids to end up just like you / well you're a false prophet / and that's a goddamn promise." Währenddessen ist „Let Me Be Wrong“ eine echte Hymne, eine beschwingte Ode an die Ablehnung von Perfektionismus. Wiederum auf einem einfachen Gesang und einer Akustikgitarre aufbauend, steigert sich „Let Me Be Wrong“ Schritt für Schritt in seinem Trotz; die Gitarren schichten sich, das Schlagzeug nimmt das Tempo auf, und McRae macht Platz für die Fehler aller. Wenn McRae knurrt „fuck those girls got everything“, ist das ein Schlag voller Kraft und Verletzlichkeit, der darum bettelt, unisono so laut wie möglich gebrüllt zu werden. Der ungewöhnliche Titel ihres zweiten Albums? Er stammt aus einer Zeile in McRaes Lieblingsfilm „Zurück in die Zukunft“. Ein Hauptdarsteller überlebt einen Kugelhagel, und dieses Bild hat McRae sehr beeindruckt. „Ich habe mich mit dem Gedanken angefreundet, dass ich leicht unter dem Gewicht dessen, was mir passiert ist, hätte zusammenbrechen können, aber das habe ich nicht. Ich wusste es nicht einmal“, sagt McRae, “aber ich war die ganze Zeit über kugelsicher.“

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Scowl is a band that sounds exactly like their name implies. Venomous, fierce, antagonistic. A sneer not to be crossed. Over the last five years, the Santa Cruz, California, band has firmly planted their flag in the hardcore scene with their vicious sound and ripping live show, sharing stages around the world with Circle Jerks, Touché Amoré, and Limp Bizkit, and filling slots at prominent festivals like Coachella, Sick New World, and Reading and Leeds. But with their new album, Are We All Angels (Dead Oceans), Scowl is aiming to funnel all that aggression through a more expansive version of themselves. Much of Are We All Angels grapples with Scowl’s newfound place in the hardcore scene, a community which has both embraced the band and made them something of a lightning rod over the past few years. Standout single “Not Hell, Not Heaven” outright rejects the narratives cast onto them by outsiders. “It’s about feeling victimized and being a victim, but not wanting to identify with being a victim,” explains vocalist Kat Moss. “It’s trying to find grace in the fact that I have my power. I live in my reality. You have to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and it ain’t working for me.” The band breaks from a sense of disassociation to seek deeper connections on “Fantasy.” “It’s incredibly challenging to try to balance my love for the scene while also feeling, in some spaces, extremely alienated and hated,” Moss says. “‘Fantasy’ is about feeling like I don't know how to connect with these people anymore, because I have shelled myself away so hard.” The album ends in a philosophical place on the closing, titular track, “Are We All Angels,” asking questions like, “Is this all there is?” and ultimately putting it on the listener to decide. “It’s about the personal struggle between good and evil. It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ you are, there are systems that will try to rewrite your narrative no matter what you actually do,” explains Moss, noting that punctuation on “Are We All Angels” has been deliberately omitted in an attempt to leave the statement open-ended. Are We All Angels is the highly anticipated follow-up to Scowl’s debut, 2021’s How Flowers Grow, a 16-minute primal scream over punishing riffs. But amidst the pounding chaos, it was the record’s sonic outlier, a cleaner interlude called “Seeds to Sow,” that, true to its name, planted the seed for what was to come for the band. “It kind of laid out this destiny for us, and I feel like now we’re fulfilling that,” says drummer Cole Gilbert. The band continued to expand their sound on 2023’s widely acclaimed Psychic Dance Routine EP, incorporating more pop hooks and favoring gentler singing over heavy screaming, paving the way for what would come next. Scowl’s growth got a huge boost from producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Title Fight, Code Orange, Balance and Composure), who broadened the band’s scope. “Will would say, ‘Everything you have here is correct, but it’s in the wrong place,’” says Gilbert. Moss adds: “Will really helped restructure a lot of the material. Some songs he tore apart to make more space for the really good hooks and choruses.” But even through this more eclectic approach, Scowl loses none of their edge, and still manages to convey the anger and frustration that lies underneath. They are deeply committed to carrying the ethos of punk and its sense of community. “Hardcore and punk have sculpted how we operate, what we want to do as a band, and how we participate,” says guitarist Malachi Greene. “At our core, we are a punk and a hardcore band, regardless of how the song shifts and changes.

Yellow & Black Vinyl. "The first three are innocent in a way, because we didn't have an audience when we were making them," Oberst says. "But from Lifted on, I was definitely aware of an audience. Lifted was well-received right away, and then everything happened with Wide Awake and Digital Ash." Those two albums came out simultaneously. And their lead singles - "Take It Easy (Love Nothing)," from the austere, remote Digital Ash, and "Lua," from the warm, folky Wide Awake - debuted in the top two slots on the Billboard Hot 100. "First Day of My Life," also from Wide Awake, would later be voted the Number One love song of all time by NPR Music's reader's poll.Bright Eyes had officially broken through. It was a heady, exciting time, but also fraught and tense, both because of the band's careening new fame, and because of the state of the world. When Bright Eyes made their Tonight Show debut in 2006, they chose to perform none of their shiny new hits, instead delivering a searing, harrowing rendition of their caustic anti-Bush anthem, "When The President Talks To God."These days, Oberst is still amusing himself by messing with the extremes Bright Eyes baked into this era's releases, extremes that reflected the polar, with-us-or-against-us, fractious feel of the times. The reworked Digital Ash tracks, originally so clean and elegant, are, on the companion EP, full of "harmonica and mandolins - folky vibes," Oberst says. While the analogue sweetness of the Wide Awake songs have been put through a detached nihilism filter.

Opaque Gold Vinyl. Recorded over four nights at The Music Hall of Williamsburg, this triple LP is a veritable best-of from a band at the height of their performative powers. Featuring scorching renditions of the best-loved songs of the Phosphorescent catalog, from Los Angeles to Song for Zula, Phosphorescent delivers a live album for all-time. Comes with album download.

Italian composer and saxophonist Laura Agnusdei returns with “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” a career defining record that sees the artist diving into uncharted waters, a profound timeless meditation on our relationship with planet Earth, the eco-conflicts arising and the fascination with non human forms of life, backdropped to a vivid soundtrack of coral exotica, spiritual Jazz, fourth-world minimalism, tropical electronics, tribal futurism and contemporary elegance.

Every step of Laura Agnusdei’s path, from electroacoustic experimentation to her constant research based upon the acoustic dimension of wind instruments and their interaction with polymorphic electronic sounds, seems to have pivoted into a new sense of awareness, as if the mind and intellectual practice has finally caught up with the body, the heart and the soul, resulting in her most organic and transcendent work yet. “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica” is loosely inspired around a trifecta of pioneering ideas that explore unconventional reality: James Bridle’s ‘Ways Of Being’ with his radical story that mixes ecology, tech and intelligence; Luigi Serafini’s late-70s fantastical ‘Codex Seraphinianus’, an unparalleled collection of flora, fauna, anatomies metamorphosed into new fragile beings; J.G. Ballard’s climate-fiction foreshadowing sci-fi ruminations. These influences shift Agnusdei’s musical trajectory injecting doses of terrestrial malaise, the earthy sub-saharan ‘Ittiolalia’ with its wah-wah filtered sax and trance inducing groove; the rubbery playfulness of ‘Oasi Bar’; the gentle eco-system of ‘P.P.R.N’ reminiscent of Herbie Hancock’s innovative synthesis of funk, space and synthesizers; the kaleidoscopic northern lights of ‘Emperor Penguin Lullaby’, where south-east Asian echoes reach icy shores; the Jon Hassell hyper-ambience of ‘Cuttlefish REM Phase’; the post-apocalyptic march of ‘The Drowned World, a jazz standard for an artificial civilization on the brink of self-destruction. Nothing feels out of place and it’s no coincidence that one of the most powerful messages on the record is delivered on centerpiece ‘Are We Dinos?’ via an interview conducted with two preschoolers. Radical optimism or sonic liberation?

Laura Agnusdei’s tenor sax cuts deep all across “Flowers Are Blooming In Antarctica”, a laser baton raised up to the clouds, a conductor orchestrating devotional soundscapes for a three-eyed dolphin, guiding us through prismatic pastures and acidic oceans. Her tropicalized realm is pin-pointed with Miles-like sheer clarity, a bristling nakedness on the verge of exploding at any time, creating an album where ascension becomes the unifying code.

Whales are the largest animals the Earth has ever borne. They feed on krill. They sing. Listen to them. Listen to the whale is Kriill's second studio album. Four years of their lives. One twentieth of human life. This album is a tribute to the magical carefree spirit we humans are capable of in our daily lives, despite the perspective of imminent collapse. An elegant, creative alternative-rock album, with a singular, audacious sound, harmonized vocals and sassy guitars. A generous musical expression of vertigo in the face of the work of the Universe.

Kriill is a music group on Earth, made up of Klaar Frankenberg, Richard Pons and Eliott Sigg.
Krill are the trillions of tiny crustaceans that inhabit the world's oceans and represent the planet's largest animal biomass.

For Greg Mendez, reflection doesnüft mean a static image in a mirror, or even a face he recognizes. Itüfs more a kaleidoscopic mirage, where paths taken shapeshift with the prospect of paths untread, and the subconscious merges with the intentional. On his self-titled new album, the Philadelphia-based songwriter and multi-instrumentalist investigates the shaky camera of memory, striving to carve out a collage that points to a truth. But there isnüft a regimented actuality here; instead, Mendez highlights the merit in many truths, and many lives, and how even the hardest truths can still contain some humor. While this is technically Mendezüfs third full-length album, his back catalog boasts an extensive range of EPs and live recordings. Heüfs a prolific and thoughtful songwriter, understanding the joy in impulse, and shying away from the clinical sheen of overproduction. 2017üfs ügüP/ _(c)_ /üPüh and 2020üfs Cherry Hell garnered acclaim for their quiet, lo-fi urgency, exploring themes of addiction and heartbreak with an intentional, authentic haze, and itüfs this approach that has solidified Mendez as a staple in the DIY community for years. Greg Mendez was written in fragments, some stretching across more than a decade, with Mendez reworking old ideas and arrangements, and others blossoming much more recently. The weight of time..and perhaps the anxiety in running out of it..clouds the album, as Mendez prods at some painful experiences from his childhood and early adulthood. The common thread connecting the characters is their evident imperfections, and the various degrees of damage they cause, both knowingly and unknowingly. But where do we draw the line between a good person and a bad person? For Mendez, itüfs never been that easy. Greg Mendez is an intimate dialogue between the chapters weüfve experienced, and how they can inform the reality we perceive. Itüfs a reminder that we are constantly shifting, ever-changing selves and that if we ruminate too long, we may find ourselves stuck in the seriousness of it all. Here, Mendez allows us to take the time to notice what happens outside of the framework we may have built for ourselves, and the beauty that can occur when we finally do.

Coke Bottle CLear Vinyl. The breakout success of 2016's Puberty 2 saw Mitski hailed as the new vanguard of indie rock, the one to save the genre from the white dudes who've historically dominated it. But the often overlooked aspect of being a rising star is the sheer amount of work that goes into it. "I had been on the road for a long time, which is so isolating, and had to run my own business at the same time," Mitski explains, "a lot of this record was me not having any feelings, being completely spent, but then trying to rally myself and wake up and get back to Mitski. I was feeling really nihilistic and trying to make pop songs."We want our artists to be strong but we also expect them to be vulnerable. Rather than avoiding this dilemma, she addresses directly the power that comes from appearing impenetrable and loneliness that follows. "With a lot of the romantic infatuations I've had," she says, "when I look back, I wonder, Did I want them or did I want to be them? Did I love them or did I want to absorb whatever power they had? I decided I could just be my own cowboy figure that I so desire." In Be The Cowboy, delves into the loneliness of being a symbol and the loneliness of being someone, and how it can feel so much like being no one.

After several EP’s and collaborations with artists - such as Elderbrook, Hayden James and Novaa – the producer and singer releases his solo debut album "Aniimals" on April 5th.
With great attention to detail, Moglii creates his very own genre „organic electronic“, defined by a modern mix of warm beats, analogue synthesizers and soulful vocals. Each track explores the relationship between intelligent life forms and humans, such as "Fungii," "iinsects," or "Roots“, aiming to draw attention to the incredible organic diversity on this planet.

„Aniimals“ represents biodiversity in each track named after a wonderful and inspiring creature, that Moglii relates to. This DIY-release campaign includes a limited bio-vinyl pressing and a sustainable merch edition.
Why biodiversity? The extinction of many species (often undiscovered) is perhaps the most underestimated problem of our time. There is a lot of public debate about CO2 budgets, but according to experts, the basis of our survival as humanity could also depend significantly on the preservation of genetic diversity in our limited planetary garden. Due to destruction of nature, the loss of species will continue to worsen unless there is a cultural rethink.
Moglii proves his appreciation for animals of any kind and fascination for other intelligent life forms in a very impressive musical way with his debut album, aiming to create an emotional bridge between our urban lifestyle and the animals that inhabit this planet with us.

The cinematic opening track Inthenever starts off as a film >> somewhere on a desolate coast, where everything has already ceased. This is going to be an album with a story and depth, a fearless tour of the barren shores of our days // or is it possibly just a mirage conclusion of their razor-sharp sound brutalism? Tittingur's third album, Epiphany, is here, pounding with waves they had not done before.

It seems as though this dyad has disposed of all the genre confines that had locked them in, and have grasped the sound of new subject matters, for which the moniker of experimental techno is finally too narrow. With utter urgency and candid to their emblematic, thunderous sound, Dominik's and Matus's deafening mallets collide in beats which are now, more than ever, drenched in a mass of palpable gloom and anguish. As though we could touch the rising levels of the oceans, and smell the melting of the glaciers themselves.

In one way or another, the music of Tittingur has always been about nature, its fierce essence, and its stark contrast with the post-era that we have found ourselves living in. However, whereas before, it was the sound of old, weather-stained concrete, and the pounding of abandoned, overgrown buildings, now it is, unavoidably, their most direct and honest return to nature landscapes, and to human, age-old traditions, referenced in the Slovak folk motives, recordings and found sounds.

On Epiphany, Tittingur's sound becomes yet more abstract, in a sound world that is ambiguous but also unified, and works on its own. The duality of nature and technology, of inland human folklore and the trenches of deepest oceans, invite us to come closer and observe the volatile obliteration taking place. Can we even attempt to re-assess our position with nature, or is this whole experiment doomed to fail?

Unsurprisingly, in the echoes, all the ingredients of the classic Tittingur sound are still present, distilled into new forms >> the ever-present over-saturation, the exaggerated, maximalist approach and megalomania >> the sound of impending climate change, doom, and near-apocalyptic visions, the scent of borovička mixed with the wild North Sea, the agony of contemporary urban life, and the adventure of wilderness: ferocious synths, monumental beats, aggressive basslines and crumbling noise-scapes built of a found-sound, music concréte-like, collagist approach.

At moments, it seems the means have changed. Just until you realise that the sentences of this story are spoken in a new language. If you dive deep enough, and listen to the essence that the music of Tittingur articulates, it's surprisingly easy to understand >> although the notions and emotions are difficult to put into words. The profound narrative of Epiphany is that of an endless inner struggle of society, anxiety, crises, and ambiguously easy // difficult solutions in the post-modern global chaos. It is the calm before a storm. It is the storm. Is it the calm. It is all of it, in itself. credits

Malka Tuti is proud to present the solo debut EP by mister Andrei Rusu, 
 one half of Khidja.

After a series of stellar remixes in the past year to Cosmo Vitelli (on Im a Cliché), Dadalus & Bikarus, Santaka & Nic Arizona, Rusu is finally ready to present his own original solo materials to the world.


Ahead of a full LP planned on MT for later this year, Rusu is presenting us with 2 fresh new tracks. The A-side is a 120bpm dirty and distorted super- trippy banger for the biggest floors and the darkest rooms.

On the B-side Rusu collaborates with an artist known to the followers of the label - Decha, who contributes her signature expressive vocals on this half time industrial dub track. This time however, the vocals run through the hands of Rusu who soaks them with distortion and even more punk attitude, almost echoing the energies of the late Genesis P-Orridge.

The release includes 2 remixes by a couple of master remixers who also happen to be part of our extended family. 


Remixing the title track, and off the success of his 2 incredible albums
released on 2023 (Music From Memory & Offen), Philipp Otterbach supplies a remix for the books, channeling the original track’s intensity through oceans of reverb, whimsical samples and addictive trippy rhythms.
For the Hedesch Remix we’ve asked one of our favourite remixers out there aka Black Merlin to contribute his cut and boy he didn’t disappoint (does he ever?)


Black Merlin supplied us with a long and addictive psychedelic synthetic and very dubby journey for the b-side.

toechter is an all-female trio operating from Berlin. toechter’s 2nd full-length album »Epic Wonder« sees its classically trained members blend elaborate string arrangements with ethereal indie pop and delicate rhythms. Katrine Grarup Elbo, Lisa Marie Vogel and Marie-Claire Schlameus exclusively use analogue sound sources (such as violin, viola, cello, and their voices), which were then electronically processed.

Named after the Greek god of the wind, toechters 2022 album »Zephyr« exhaled deeply with concurrently invigorating and confusing sounds. »Epic Wonder«, their second album, was created in the spring and summer of 2023. Playing with forms and contours, the music sounds like the awakening of something new. One seems to be listening to an ongoing conversation, an exchange about what music could be, where it wants to go and how it contributes to our view of life. It all rests on a simple premise:

»Every sound you hear in our universe comes from us. The string trio is the core of toechter, the starting point of all our work.«

Those looking for new worlds of sound can find them in the work of this classically- trained musicians. Whether they add voices or percussive instruments, sample the sounds, or manipulate them electronically; ultimately they are exploring the string trio's place in a world shaped by the digital.

»Prelude« opens the album, seemingly a conversation, yet not only between humans. We catch the word ›love‹ which soon morphs into pure sound images, while a violin theme tentatively takes over. Is it the dawning of a new day? The chorus of sound transforms into a fascinating rhythmic figure, creating a club-like experience that fades out in delicate structures. A perpetual transformation.

According to toechter, »Epic Wonder« is all about making connections. Connections between people, animals, plants, fungi, rocks, soils, oceans, ice caps, stars, and planets. One imagines oneself in a folk-pop song of the 60s, or even blown around by Morricone's desert wind:

»The world as we see it is in desperate need for a deeper understanding; for compassion, for empathy. We have to understand that we are all part of the same organism. Epic Wonder is a dream, a wish, a longing for kinship between all species that share the world - all that is alive.«

The acoustic throbbing and knocking in »Sea Of Serenity« makes you think of encounters with mythical creatures or planetary oceanography; and out of the mechanically clacking groove of »Shift Souls« a gentle, but steady movement awakens with voices that seem to sound from the depths of the sea. Everything is in flux, floating in and out of dimensions and elements.

The album ends with »Mercury«, spherically elegant and almost science fiction-like. Here, a pizzicato melody leads us back to the baroque, simultaneously representing a detail of intertwined sonic worlds, while the steady, housy baseline develops its driving theme.

»Creating the music for the album, we allowed ourselves to waft away with the aspiration that connections are possible. Sometimes dwelling on subtle, yet marveling phenomena like the evening fog covering a valley on Midsummer, sometimes on grandiose splendors like the genesis of mountains or the birth of a child - letting interactions and encounters with other beings float through the musical universe as drips of emotional perceptivity.«

For the visual manifestation of »Epic Wonder«, toechter has engaged with Finish up-and-coming lens-based artist Aino Kontinen. Her work will grace both the cover art of the album and accompany the first single and video as an ephemeral tale in motion.

A Flor de Piel, the new album from singer-songwriter and composer Maria Monica Gutierrez (aka Montañera), is a meditative journey of self-discovery across oceans, time, and the traditional confines of genre. Originally from Bogota, Colombia, Gutierrez began the album as a way to explore her identity after a difficult move to London left her feeling untethered in a strange new place. The result is an examination of the immigrant's experience through a rich sonic lens of ambient pop textures, inspired by sources as disparate as Colombian traditional music, traditional Senegalese music, and whalesong from the depths of the Atlantic. The album begins with the title track "A Flor de Piel," Gutierrez's indelible vocals floating above a vast expanse before being joined by deep, silky bass and the plucks of a koto-like stringed instrument. "The song was inspired by traditional Japanese music," Gutierrez explains, "It's about making my heart a little lighter; I know that inside of me I can be as light as mist in heat, I can be fragile as the song of a sparrow." That sentiment perfectly encapsulates much of what makes A Flor de Piel so special. The album comes with a message of healing for all people, without forgetting the centuries of struggle and hurt that form the bedrock of modern society. The track "Santa Mar," for instance, is inspired by the musical traditions of afro-pacific women in Colombia, and the crucial role that they play as peacebuilders in the region. Backed by a hypnotic beat, the song features contributions from marimba player Cankita, alongside Las Cantadoras de Yerba Buena, an all-female vocal group that utilizes traditional Afro-Colombian music to preserve their history and promote peace. Standout track "Como Una Rama" is a futuristic take on bullerengue, a traditional style of music and dance originally developed by Maroon communities on Colombia's Caribbean coast. Deeply affecting, the song combines Gutierrez's indomitable voice with electronics that recall Steve Reich's rhythmic minimalism. "Cruzar," the final track on the album, feels almost like a lullaby, with a meditative harmonic style and trance-like vocal melody. "The lyrics," Gutierrez explains, "are a personal reminder of what is important to me: healing, letting go, breathing, evaporating, forgetting, changing, crystallizing." Across the 40-odd minutes of A Flor de Piel, Gutierrez triumphs at recontextualizing traditional sounds and sentiments into a modern form using synth-based and electronic textures. It's a fitting representation for the personal struggles that the artist endured during her move to London. Rather than dwelling solely on the past Guitierrez uses A Flor de Piel to summon the strength of past generations, and forge a new path forward. As she describes it, "The album has accompanied me through inner journeys of finding myself in a new territory _ of redefining myself, of remembering who I am _ in a strange place." As we drift towards an increasingly frightening and uncertain future, perhaps Montañera's A Flor de Piel is exactly what we need: something to give us strength, to bring us peace, and to accompany our journey into a strange new place.

Take the 101 north out of Los Angeles, and you'll pass by Agoura Hills, where the core duo of the band Dub Thompson grew up. Whatever you see in that town won't readily prepare you for the music they wrote while there, but you're free to look."Most everyone who's in a group who's our age lives on the Internet," says guitarist Matt Pulos. "The kinds of things that have shaped our band aren't anchored to any one time or place."Pulos and his bandmate, drummer Evan Laffer, are currently both 19 years old, and are putting that line of thought to the test; their musical influences travel from the Midwestern malaise of Big Black and Pere Ubu, to Kraut pioneers Can and Kraftwerk, while bowing to the British belligerence of The Fall and This Heat.Recording the album while living with Foxygen's Jonathan Rado at his rented house in Bloomington, the band had its first taste of a heavy Indiana summer, and all the humidity and insect life that buzzes along with it. "We woke up every day, ate hard-boiled eggs and stood on a porch," says Pulos of the experience.Their first collection of songs slyly unties the shoes of genre and convention, shapeshifts mischievously, and tramples on the promises delivered on the name itself.There are only eight songs on this rangy debut.Intense blasts of hook-filled noise rock ("Hayward!"), rocksteady marionette stomp ("No Time"), hypnotic bouts of doomy poetics ("Epicondyles"), outlandishly sexy groove rock ("Dograces"), and a number of other bite-sized forays into parts unknown are made manifest across 9 Songs. The vibes are strong here. Pulos sings and plays like he's working out long-standing grudges, pulling the most sinewy tones from an acoustic guitar and ripping huge chunks of demon flesh out of his electric. Laffer matches him step for step on the drums, an exacting presence behind the kit who pushes even the band's more placid moments into bouts of tension. Together they succeed in animating their musical ideas to startling, almost unnatural life. Reverb units, keyboards, samples and processing gluing everything together, saturated in the August heat and worn in until they sound second nature, it's like somehow you've been listening to these songs forever.

Kevin Morby writes (and records, and imagines) at an almost incomparable clip, and his most recent album, This Is A Photograph, studies life, time and mortality through myriad lenses. It's a dynamic, buoyant record on big, heavy themes, so it only makes sense that Morby found he wasn't quite done with it on its completion. More Photographs (A Continuum) finds new nooks, corners and vantage points. "If This Is A Photograph is a house that you have been living inside of," says Morby, "then More Photographs is, perhaps, the same home just experienced differently. As if you, its inhabitant, have taken a tab of something psychedelic and now, suddenly, you've replaced your eyeglasses with kaleidoscopes." Here, Morby returns to his landmark album's bottomless themes with new wisdom, new imagination, and the winking, looping call backs that tie his full body of work together in uniquely special ways." Everything you once thought was familiar," he continues, "suddenly appears differently, shifting shapes, color and sonic landscapes." "Five Easy Pieces Revisited" captures the same moment from Bobby's point of view; "This Is A Photograph II" takes a similar tact, revisiting its predecessor from a different angle. "Triumph" explores more of the myths and deaths that surround Memphis, TN, this time inspired by Big Star's Chris Bell. And "Kingdom Of Hearts" arrives as an origin story to both This Is A Photograph and its new companion." With every collection of songs," says Morby, "I feel I must cast them out of me before moving onto the next project, and here I knew that what I had begun with This Is A Photograph was not finished. Releasing this collection is my tying a bow on that time and place in my creative life." With a luxurious nine tracks - three re-imaginings and six brand new songs - More Photographs (A Continuum) is prequel, sequel and primer to an already rich and generous record from one of our most luminous modern songwriters.

Kevin Morby writes (and records, and imagines) at an almost incomparable clip, and his most recent album, This Is A Photograph, studies life, time and mortality through myriad lenses. It's a dynamic, buoyant record on big, heavy themes, so it only makes sense that Morby found he wasn't quite done with it on its completion. More Photographs (A Continuum) finds new nooks, corners and vantage points. "If This Is A Photograph is a house that you have been living inside of," says Morby, "then More Photographs is, perhaps, the same home just experienced differently. As if you, its inhabitant, have taken a tab of something psychedelic and now, suddenly, you've replaced your eyeglasses with kaleidoscopes." Here, Morby returns to his landmark album's bottomless themes with new wisdom, new imagination, and the winking, looping call backs that tie his full body of work together in uniquely special ways." Everything you once thought was familiar," he continues, "suddenly appears differently, shifting shapes, color and sonic landscapes." "Five Easy Pieces Revisited" captures the same moment from Bobby's point of view; "This Is A Photograph II" takes a similar tact, revisiting its predecessor from a different angle. "Triumph" explores more of the myths and deaths that surround Memphis, TN, this time inspired by Big Star's Chris Bell. And "Kingdom Of Hearts" arrives as an origin story to both This Is A Photograph and its new companion." With every collection of songs," says Morby, "I feel I must cast them out of me before moving onto the next project, and here I knew that what I had begun with This Is A Photograph was not finished. Releasing this collection is my tying a bow on that time and place in my creative life." With a luxurious nine tracks - three re-imaginings and six brand new songs - More Photographs (A Continuum) is prequel, sequel and primer to an already rich and generous record from one of our most luminous modern songwriters.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.

Sometimes, Mitski says, it feels like life would be easier without hope, or a soul, or love. But when she closes her eyes and thinks about what's truly hers, what can't be repossessed or demolished, she sees love. "The best thing I ever did in my life was to love people," Mitski says. "I wish I could leave behind all the love I have, after I die, so that I can shine all this goodness, all this good love that I've created onto other people." She hopes her newest album, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, will continue to shine that love long after she's gone. Listening to it, that's precisely how it feels: like a love that's haunting the land. "This is my most American album," Mitski says about her seventh record, and the music feels like a profound act of witnessing this country, in all of its private sorrows and painful contradictions. In this album, which is sonically Mitski's most expansive, epic, and wise, the songs seem to be introducing wounds and then actively healing them. Here, love is time- traveling to bless our tender days, like the light from a distant star. The album is full of the ache of the grown- up, seemingly mundane heartbreaks and joys that are often unsung but feel enormous. It's a tiny epic. From the bottom of a glass, to a driveway slushy with memory and snow, to a freight train barreling through the Midwest, and all the way to the moon, it feels like everything, and everyone, is crying out, screaming in pain, arching towards love. Love is that inhospitable land, beckoning us and then rejecting us. To love this place _ this earth, this America, this body _ takes active work. It might be impossible. The best things are.