quête:reiterate

Presenting the remarkable second album by the Chinese musician, DJ and creative chef Yu Su. An evolution from her 2021 debut LP and two track single released last year, Foundry radiates a fresh, fully-fledged and far-reaching sound.

The nucleus of Foundry began with material penned for live performance at MUTEK in 2025, alongside a move to London which brought about new shifts in perspective. Searching for a style that was true both to her roots and progression as an artist, Yu ventured in a post-orientalist direction, and came upon a language of ‘in-between music’.

Mixing the eclectic influence of her DJ sets with genre-defying collaborators and newfound taste for minimal and ambient techno, a dusky, dub-inflected character began to emerge. This broad palette reiterates Yu’s prior form in making connections across disciplines, which have not only consisted of music, but also multisensory endeavors which incorporate taste and smell.

With cover art featuring hammered metalwork by the artist Brendan Ratzlaff, for Yu the foundry represents a nexus of creation; a shared workspace where collaborators combined their materials and skills. With the input of Seefeel, Dip In The Pool, and Memotone, together their broad spectrum of aural elements underwent a chemical transformation, and were forged into something new.

Well-designed, ergonomic yet occasionally amorphous, the effect is that of meticulous freedom, both controlled and free flowing. Using immersive sound design, Yu creates inspiring spaces to revel in, which are warm yet steeped in shadow, with flashes of silvery light.

Featuring Yu in with duet Miyako Koda of cult Japanese art pop duo Dip In The Pool, the record kicks off in swirling but poised fashion with ‘A Jewel’. The dusky, reverberant underwater minimalism of ‘Sunless’ follows, which features British composer Memotone, and was influenced by Chris Marker’s 1983 film Sans Soleil.

The dubby, sunkissed affirmation on ‘Cul De Sac’ leads to the thumping acid stomp of ‘Foundry’, and onto the hazy glow of ‘One Place After Another’, featuring lauded soundheads Seefeel, where Yu’s voice is joined by Sarah Peacock’s, alongside Mark Clifford’s seductively gauzy fuzz guitar.

Venturing into more ominous territory is the liminal ambient dub of ‘Wanli’, followed by the rich textured flutter of ‘Os Cionn’, which translates from Gaelic as ‘above’. The album ends with the reflective, processional pulse of ‘Ripe Fruits’, which was inspired by Frederic Leighton’s 1892 oil painting The Garden of the Hesperides.

The LP’s visual was art directed by Lucas Dupuy, whose approach perfectly encapsulates Yu’s spatial sonics: “We both think in layers”, she comments. “Not linear layering, but horizontal layering, like weaving metallic threads, where a bigger picture of a grainy sphere will occur at the end.”

Mastered by Miles

Art by Lucas Dupuy & Brendan Ratzlaff

Limited edition transparent vinyl pressing of Tom Rowlands' first release on Phantasy. ‘Through Me’ is an all-cylinders, propulsive elasticated house track while ‘Nothing But Pleasure’ is eight-plus minutes of unstoppable Metallic KO disco. Both tracks reiterate the point that Tom is unarguably one of the greatest producers of club music around.

Clear vinyl comes in a stickered heavyweight reverse board sleeve..

Delicate Records delves into the swamp laden depths of heartbreak; inexplicable depth, darkness and twisted beauty with a 9 track full length debut from Saffron Bloom. The Iranian-American producer and performer; already prolific as Sepehr and known for his expertly raw and freaky sound, develops this alias to indulge the silver linings of agony. An illbient force of nature drawing on industrial atmospherics, trip hop flow and unbothered breakbeat influx. The record serves as an ode to the ever changing phases of lost love and grief, seasons of emotion weathering the passage of time each with their own ferocity and relation to the evolving cycle; one so personal yet universally understood.

Intro, the infrastructure of aura laced throughout the record, builds around an ominous and evocative piano soundscape bleeding with delay, intruding barely human vocal cries and percussive injections. Dripping into the DNA of Dirge of the Lonely and Jealous Desire, there comes a yearning, cries from beyond the grave; mourning relationships lost with an eerie familiarity. This sinister sanctuary bred through low slung stripped back breaks, those that echo within the soul and tie themselves to an anchor of inconspicuous growling sub bass; a signature idiosyncrasy perfectly elevated with Saffron Bloom timbre.

Quelling the urge to disintegrate, with power through distortion and commanding drumwork, corners of the B side like Curtain Call and Apathetic Rose reiterate a primal and hypnotic sonic discourse. At the heart of the LP and the artist’s ethos, it resonates through the mind and body in a psychedelic manner while remaining powerfully minimal. Time’s Up (It’s Over) featuring. Sam Weinberg feels like a fever dream, saxophone drenched and echoing throughout your brain, while album closer Ultimate Acceptance is named perfectly. A melancholic realization, soft in nature yet rich in complexity and beauty, a bittersweet conclusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Argy returns to Afterlife, linking up with Omnya to bring forth this captivating release.

Together, they’ve crafted ‘Aria’, a mesmerising cut with an undulating low end and hypnotic vocal refrains. The choir-esque sample is skillfully segmented and reiterated, forging an electrifying atmosphere and triggering a heady juxtaposition of euphoria and ominous tones. In combination with the pulsating bassline and uplifting melodies, it’s a sonic portal to a realm beyond the ether.

On the flip Argy and two-man outfit Goom Gum team up. The trio get together for the first time on this cut, pouring their respective energies into a powerful composition. ‘Pantheon’ utilises a rousing vocal symphony, with a rolling bassline, an urgent melody and a goosebump-inducing breakdown to devastating effect.

Wendell Harrison, who reiterates his passion as a jazz musician with the "Rebirth" label name on this album, is joined by his friend Harold Mckinney, another leader of the Detroit jazz scene, on the brilliant "Winter" (M1), a piano-driven opening number. The opening number "Winter" (M1), with the brilliant piano of his friend Harold Mckinney, who is also a leader of the Detroit jazz scene, is followed by "Love Dream" (M2), a light Brazilian jazz song that blends Leon Thomas' warm vocals with a bossa flavor, and the spiritual and freaky "He's He's He's He's He's" (M3), which is a powerful bluesy tune. He's The One We All Knew" (M3), a spiritual and freaky tune that Wendell blows with great gusto. The second half of the album continues the momentum, with the fusion-like title track "Reawakening" (M4) with Wendell's flute playing a light, mellow melody, and the percussive beat and horn section intertwining in all directions to create the jet-black funkiness of "Tons & Tons Of Ofamp" (M5), which is a great example of the jazz sound of the band. Tons & Tons Of B.S." (M5), which is a performance of maturity! He also performed "Where Am I," a Wendell Harrison song that was featured on the Tribe-era classic "An Evening With The Devil," in an innovative arrangement featuring Leon Thomas' vocals, as if tracing his own career. It is a masterpiece suitable for the launch of the new label "Rebirth"!

Cathartic avant-rock, literate DIY folk & experimental composition exploring displacement, love, climate change, belonging & the places we call home - RIYL Jim O’Rourke, Richard Youngs, This Heat, Richard Dawson, Flying Nun. ‘Real Home’ is the new album by the Manchester-born, London-based artist Kiran Leonard. His sixth album proper (not including innumerable tour-only CD-Rs and short-run cassettes), since his precocious debut in 2013, ‘Real Home’ finds Leonard invigorated by inspiration and experience, making passionate, literate, and mercurial music that explores displacement, love, memory, climate change, connections to home and more. Encompassing songs recorded after moving to South London, ‘Real Home’ reflects on ideas of belonging and domesticity through folkloric, stream-of-consciousness songwriting. Across nine tracks, Leonard traces lived impressions of the household and the city, expressing sentiments of dislocation, alienation and stasis, but contentment too. Infusing the avant-rock effervescence, terraced dynamics and visionary lyricism of his music with what he defines as a greater sense of openness, Leonard is as versatile, fervent and imaginative as ever on ‘Real Home’, yet his music is somehow more intimate, affecting, and acutely expressive. Shaped by dual considerations of simplicity and formalism, ‘Real Home’ is by turns beautiful, allusive, and ruminative, an album on which Leonard considers what his songs have resembled in the past and what they mean now. In recent years, Leonard has crafted eloquent chamber music inspired by the likes of James Joyce and Clarice Lispector (‘Derevaun Seraun’), responded to contemporary politics and communication breakdown in the digital age (‘Western Culture’), and compiled solo works and ensemble recordings for a longform ode to Jonas Mekas and to one of Leonard’s enduring themes; home (‘Trespass On Foot’). On ‘Real Home’, Leonard reiterates this abiding thematic focus yet ascends to new, different heights, in music of cathartic delicacy and dissonance where all the myriad dimensions of his work to date seem to crystallize. There are sinuous songs about struggle and defying the pace of city life through drift and diversion (‘Pass Between Houses’), stirring songs of intense feeling and crescendo, described as a form of speculative detective fiction (‘Theatre for Change’). There are touching solo piano ballads (the title track), symbolic contentions with carbon capture and climate change (‘Utopia of Bog’), modes of experimental minimalism (‘Void Attentive’), and other profuse feats of compositional range, embroidered with wild tendrils of narrative and lyrical depth. A record to pore over, and get lost in. Exemplifying the vast aesthetic scope of Leonard’s music, lead single ‘My Love, Let’s Take The Stage Tonight’ is inspired by country lodestar Hank Williams, Russian poetry and a late period love poem by William Carlos Williams. Yet for Leonard, the song signals a sense of accessible materiality, and is the product of a more linear approach to writing songs: “My imitation of the great Hank Williams, in spirit if not in substance…This is one of the best efforts on Real Home at a song-as-object. Looking at it now I realise I was trying to write a song that made itself known as a song to the listener, and I wonder whether that’s crucial if you want a song to transcend its context. And that this is either accomplished through a total openness – by being inviting, by laying the tricks of the song out plain to see, as Williams and his many ghostwriters did so well – or by adopting a knowing aloofness, positioning oneself against the listener but letting it be known that that’s what it’s doing. In this song I try both, but mostly the former: as in, I wanted to write a song where every line follows on from the next.” Imbuing the endlessly elaborate and inventive qualities of his music with a newfound streak of candid, clear-cut melodicism, Leonard has reached a special place in his artistry, on a record that feels familial, and expresses closeness. Assembled with affiliates including Lauren Auder, Otto Willberg, Jasper Llewellyn (caroline), Tom Hardwick-Allan (Shovel Dance Collective), Magda McLean (caroline, The Umlauts), Alex Mckenzie (caroline, Shovel Dance Collective), Isabelle Thorn (Dear Laika) & more, the recording process had a significant influence on the subject matter of ‘Real Home’, in sessions defined by close-knit camaraderie and artistic eccentricity: “The theme of the home obviously recurs throughout the record; the album was mostly recorded in domestic spaces with friends, and the name of the album is Real Home. I like the qualifier ‘real’, like you’re getting past the cloak of the word and towards the thing-itself…also nearly all the percussion in this record was recorded on items from my dad’s shed (jam jars, sandpaper, blocks of wood, etc). Real home record!” ‘Real Home’, like anything by Kiran Leonard, is a record of dazzling multiplicity. Yet it’s a companionable prospect with a central premise; a collection of songs where listeners old and new can find a home. An album led by a scene; of Leonard standing at the threshold, ready to welcome you inside. “Exceptional songs that linger” - The Guardian // “An autodidact of amazing talent & energy” – Pitchfork // “A ridiculous amount of talent…confrontational, celebratory, provocative or perverse – he manages all of these emotions & more” - The Quietus /

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

It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

Released periodically on three of 2024’s full moons – April 23rd’s Pink Moon, July 21st’s Buck Moon and October 17th’s Hunter Moon – the three-album cycle, “Triptych”, is (Steve Von Till from Neurosis) Harvestman’s most ambitious undertaking yet.

Guest musicians including Al Cisneros of Sleep / OM who plays bass on one track for each LP, of which he will also mix a dub version on the B-Side of each LP. Dave French of Yob, Sanford Parker and Wayne from Petbrick all make appearances.


Released periodically on three of 2024’s full moons – April 23rd’s Pink Moon, July 21st’s Buck Moon and October 17th’s Hunter Moon – the three-album cycle, “Triptych”, is (Steve Von Till from Neurosis) Harvestman’s most ambitious undertaking yet.

Guest musicians including Al Cisneros of Sleep / OM who plays bass on one track for each LP, of which he will also mix a dub version on the B-Side of each LP. Dave French of Yob, Sanford Parker and Wayne from Petbrick all make appearances.

It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.

Bone White opaque + Black Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with centre hole cut out so label shows throug
Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, “Triptych” is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all.

Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this fifth outing as Harvestman finds parallels with nature’s cycles not just in its release dates but in the repeated structure that binds each album, like an imprint refracted though three separate strata. “Part One”, as with the forthcoming Parts Two and Three, starts on a collaboration with Om bassist and long-term friend of Steve’s, Al Cisneros, with a dub take opening the B-Side. Here, the opening track “Psilosynth" orbits a grandfather-clock mechanism passing through a nebula haze, all waved on by an acid-fried deity. From there on, “Part One” journeys through the elegiac “Give Your Heart To The Hawk”, with the sampled poetry like a documentary retrieved from a long-lost world, Philip Glass wistfully attending a rescue beacon from the far corner of the universe on Coma, as well as percussion recordings performed by Steve and friend Dave French (drummer of Yob) on a rusted torn open stock tank outside Steve’s barn, treated bagpipes and old reel-to-reel recordings, all reiterated across the next volumes in ever more out-there contexts.

If “Triptych” is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with “Triptych” itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

Escape Music are pleased to announce the release date for long awaited Turkish Delight studio album titled “Volume 1" with 500 limited edition double Vinyl “Side A+B Snowy White colour and side C+D Skull Gold colour” all will be numbered 1-500! ‘Turkish Delights Volume One’ celebrates the absolute joy that Escape Music co-owner Khalil Turk has for the kind of music he loves so much and has spent the last thirty and then some years championing. Indeed, his enthusiasm for a new band or a new song today is no different from when I first met him in the mid ‘80’s. I lost count of the number of phone calls he made to me when I was working for ‘Kerrang!’ magazine, where he would excitedly tell me ‘Dave, you just have to listen to this! It’s brilliant! You’ll love it!’ before playing me something over the phone – new and often obscure - he had picked up on his international record buying trips. Nine and a half times out of ten he’d be right!! Khalil’s quality control has been such that the record label he co-founded with fellow melodic rock enthusiast Barrie Kirtley in 1995 remains reliably and solidly in place all these years later. Escape continues to deliver monthly doses of quality hard rock, melodic rock and AOR to a very devoted following. Khalil had first entered the music business in the early ‘90’s, effectively as a talent scout for the German owned Long Island label. However, after the company folded, Turk felt that, rather than look at opportunities with other labels, he had the enthusiasm and now had rather more knowledge of the inner workings of the music business to put something together himself alongside the equally enthusiastic and astute Kirtley. We’ve seen hundreds of solid album releases from a huge variety of acts (including AXE, Steve Walsh (Kansas), John Elefante (Kansas), Lonerider, Shadowman, Alliance, Pinnacle Point, Mass, Heartland, Grand Illusion, Overland, Last Autumn’s Dream, Punky Meadows, ColdSpell, Chris Ousey, Ozone and Touch, to name just a few) as well as reissues (from Aviator, Sugarcreek, Jon Butcher Axis, Franke And The Knockouts, FM, Tantrum and Surrender, Zon, Hanover Fist etc) ever since. So here we are, over twenty-five years since that first Escape Music album appeared hot off the presses (Heartland’s ‘III’ album in November 1995, if you’re asking) and this collection of songs, personally chosen by Khalil, reiterates that pure joy he still possesses for the music he is utterly immersed by. With material from the pens of Steve Overland (FM), Chris Ousey (Heartland), Steve Morris (Export/Ian Gillan/Heartland), Mick Devine (Seven), Steve Newman (Newman/Compass) and Tommy Denander (Radioactive) there’s also a list of musicians culled from Khalil’s contact book that, quite frankly, is VERY impressive. Just a few names appearing on ‘Turkish Delights’ to throw at you include Ronnie Platt (Kansas), Billy Greer (Streets/Kansas), Billy Sheehan (Talas/David Lee Roth/Mr Big), Gary Pihl (Sammy Hagar/Boston/Alliance), Gene Black (Device), Jeff Pilson (Dokken), Jeff Scott Soto, Chris Childs (Thunder), Mike Slamer (City Boy/ Streets/Seventh Keys/ Steelhouse Lane) Joel Hoekstra (Whitesnake/Joel Hoekstra’s 13), Mark Mangold (American Tears/Touch/ Drive, She Said), Mark Stanway (Magnum), Mat Sinner (Sinner), Marco Mendoza (Thin Lizzy/Whitesnake/Journey), Ricky Phillips (The Babys/Bad English/Styx), Robin Beck, Robin Mc Auley (Grand Prix/MSG), James Christian (House Of Lords) Steve Overland (FM), Jerome Mazza (Pinnacle Point/solo), Terry Brock (Strangeways) and Vince DiCola (‘Transformers’/Thread/Storming Heaven). This is a cast of thousands. Well, it at least appears that way! It’s a very interesting package and, as Khalil would surely say, you’ll love it! - Dave Reynolds / August 2022. Produced by Khalil Turk for Turkish Delight Productions / Mixed and Mastered by Stephen DeAcutis at Sound Spa Studio, New Jersey, USA / *Mixed by Andy Zukerman / *Mastered by Fredrik Folkare / **Mixed and Mastered by Brian J Anthony (Vinyl Only) - Artwork Design by Hugh Syme (Rush/Bad English/Elton John) - Turkish Delights: The Musicians are: Ronnie Platt: Lead vocals (Kansas) / Billy Greer: Lead vocals (Kansas/Seventh Keys/Streets) / Jeff Scott Soto: Lead and backing vocals (Talisman/Yngwie Malmsteen/Trans-Siberian Orchestra) / Robin McAuley: Lead and backing vocals (Michael Schenker Group/Grand Prix/solo artist) / Chris Ousey: Lead vocals and Backing vocals (Heartland/Ousey-Mann/Virginia Wolf/Ozone)/ Jerome Mazza: vocals (Pinnacle Point/Steve Walsh) / James Christian: Lead and backing vocals (House Of Lords)Terry Brock: Lead vocals (Strangeways/Kansas) / Lee Small: Lead and backing vocals (Phenomena/Lionheart/Shy) / Mick Devine: Lead and Backing vocals (Devine Intervention/7/solo artist) / Ronnie Romero: Lead and backing vocals (Rainbow/Michael Schenker Group) / Tony Harnell: Lead vocals and backing vocals (TNT/Westworld/Starbreaker/Morning Wood) / Steve Overland: Lead and backing vocals (Lonerider/FM/Shadowman/solo artist) / Robin Beck: Backing vocals (solo artist) / Matt Sinner: Bass (Primal Fear/Sinner) / Joel Hoekstra: Guitars (Whitesnake/Trans-Siberian Orchestra/13) / Mike Slamer: Guitars (City Boy/Streets/Seventh Key/Steelhouse Lane) / Jeff Pilson: Bass (Foreigner/Dokken) / Gary Pihl: Guitars (Sammy Hagar/Boston) / Steve Morris: Guitars and Keyboards (Heartland/Lonerider/Ian Gillan Band/Shadowman) / Gene Black: Lead Guitars (Tina Turner/Rod Stewart/Device) / Billy Sheehan: Bass (Mr Big/The Flood/Talas) / Tracy Ferrie: Bass (Stryper/Boston) / Ricky Phillips: Bass (Baby’s/Styx/Bad English) / Rocky Newton: Bass (Michael Schenker Group/Lionheart) / Josh Devine: Drums (One Direction/Levara/Devine Intervention) / Takeaki Itoh: Bass (Pinnacle Point) / Jim Kirkpatrick: Slide guitar (FM/The Flood/Bernie Marsden Band) / Chris Childs: Bass (Thunder/Lonerider) / Steve Mann: Keyboards (Michael Schenker Group/Lionheart/Ousey/Mann) / Vince DiCola: Keyboards (Rocky4/Staying Alive/Transformers/Storming Heaven/Thread) / Mark Mangold: Keyboards (Touch/American Tears/Drive She Said) / Alessandro Del Vecchio: Keyboards (Revolution Saints/Edge Of Forever/Hardline) / Stevie D: Lead guitar / Marco Mendoza: Bass (Whitesnake/Thin Lizzy/Journey) / Jimmy Nicholas: B3 (Faith Hill/Kenny Loggins/Van Zant/Jim Peterik/Juice Newton) / Tommy Denander: Guitars and keyboards (Radioactive/Steve Walsh/Robert Hart)) / Brain J Anthony: Bass (Steve Walsh/Lonerider/Robert Heart/Robbie LeBlanc) / Brian Tichy: Drums (Whitesnake/Dead Daisies/ Foreigner) / Mark Stanway: Keyboards (Magnum/Grand Slam) / Robin Beck: Backing vocals (solo artist) / Nikolo Kotzev: Lead guitars (Brazen Abbot/Robin Gibb) / Fredrik Folkare: Guitars (Unleashed/Heartwind) / Mikael Rosengren: Keyboards (Heartwind) / Steve Newman: Guitars/keys/backing vocals (Newman/Compass) / Eric Ragno: Keyboards (Baby’s/Joe LynnTurner) / Fredrik Bergh: Keyboards (Talk Of Town/BloodBound) - CD Track listing: Intro; Live Again; Crazy Days; Bad Enough; Never Will Forget; Harder They Fall; Get Out Of Here; Believe; Hangman Blues; State Of Mind; Belly Of The Beast*; Holy Water; Sweet Serenity; Take It Away; Bad To Good. Vinyl Track listing: Intro; Live Again; Crazy Days; Bad Enough; Never Will Forget; Harder They Fall; Get Out Of Here; Believe; Hangman Blues; State Of Mind; Belly Of The Beast*; Holy Water; Sweet Serenity; Take It Away; Bad To Good; The Year 2000; Frozen Rose

Kali Malone's anticipated new album "All Life Long" is a collection of music for pipe organ, choir, and brass quintet composed by Kali Malone, 2020 - 2023. Choral music performed by Macadam Ensemble and conducted by Etienne Ferschaud at Chapelle Notre-Dame-de-L'Immaculée-Conception in Nantes. Brass quintet music performed by Anima Brass at The Bunker Studio in New York City. Organ music performed by Kali Malone and Stephen O'Malley on the historical meantone tempered pipe organs at Église Saint-François in Lausanne, Orgelpark in Amsterdam, and Malmö Konstmuseum in Sweden. Kali Malone composes with a rare clarity of vision. Her music is patient and focused, built on a foundation of evolving harmonic cycles that draw out latent emotional resonances. Time is a crucial factor: letting go of expectations of duration and breadth offers a chance to find a space of reflection and contemplation. In her hands, experimental reinterpretations of centuries-old polyphonic compositional methods become portals to new ways of perceiving sound, structure, and introspection. Though awe-inspiring in scope, the most remarkable thing about Malone's music is the intimacy stirred by the close listening it encourages. Malone's new album All Life Long, created between 2020 - 2023, presents her first compositions for organ since 2019's breakthrough album The Sacrificial Code alongside interrelated pieces for voice and brass performed by Macadam Ensemble and Anima Brass. Over the course of twelve pieces, harmonic themes and patterns recur, presented in altered forms and for varied instrumentation. They emerge and reemerge like echoes of their former selves, making the familiar uncanny. Propelled by lungs and breath rather than bellows and oscillators, Malone's compositions for choir and brass take on expressive qualities that complicate the austerity that has defined her work, introducing lyricism and the beauty of human fallibility into music that has been driven by mechanical processes. At the same time, the works for organ, performed by Malone with additional accompaniment by Stephen O'Malley on four different organs dating from the 15th to 17th centuries, underscore the mighty, spectral power that those rigorous operations can achieve. All Life Long simmers in an ever-shifting tension between repetition and variation. The pieces for brass, organ, and voice are alternated asymmetrically, providing nearly continuous timbral fluctuation across its 78-minute runtime even as thematic material reiterates. Each composition's internal framework of fractal pattern permutations has the paradoxical effect of creating anticipated keystone moments of dramatic reverie and lulling the listener into believing in an illusory endlessness. On an even more granular level, the historical meantone tuning systems of each organ used, and the variable intonation of brass and voice, provide further points of emotional excavation within the harmony. The titular composition "All Life Long" appears twice on the album, first as an extended canon for organ and again in the final quarter, compactly arranged for voice In the latter, Malone pairs the music with "The Crying Water" by Arthur Symons, a poem steeped in language of mourning and eternity. For organ, "All Life Long" moves with a patient stateliness, the drama concentrated in moments when shifting tonalities generate and release dissonance and ecstasy. For voice, each word is saturated with feeling, the singers swooping gracefully downward to capture the melancholy of the narrator's relationship to the timeless tears of the sea. "Passage Through The Spheres," the album's opening piece, contains lyrics in Italian pulled from Giorgio Agamban's essay In Praise of Profanation. In it, Agamban defines profanation as, in part, the act of bringing back to communal, secular use that which has been segregated to the realm of the sacred, a process Malone enacts each time she performs on church organs. This is not music of praise, or of spiritual revelation, but it is an artistic enactment of translating the indescribable. It carries the gravity of liturgical chant, and its fixation on the infinite, but draws its weight from the earthly realm of human experience. A music that draws the listener into the present moment where they can discover themselves within the interwoven musical patterns that can come to resemble the passage of days, weeks, years, a lifetime.

A discreet but essential figure in the field of musical creation, Horacio Vaggione has been crafting an ambitious, precise and highly significant body of work for over the last fifty years, coupled with a demanding research activity. This disc offers four purely electroacoustic pieces which illustrate, each in their own way, this singular and fascinating grammar developed by Horacio Vaggione, a complex but fertile grammar which establishes a very special relationship between structure and texture, between matter and formula, to create a fascinating musical space, made up of polyphonies and metamorphoses. (François Bonnet, Paris, 2022)

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«Schall» (1994), 07’30

Schall exclusively uses piano sounds sampled and processed with various digital techniques. The sound palette focuses on several shapes of various sizes which reiterate, altered to varying degrees, throughout the process. The granular paradigm is clearly assumed here, as is also that of the interactions between various temporal scales. Basically, there is a concern for the articulation of micro-events. The piece essentially plays with low-intensity frames, composed of various planes and punctuated by stronger objects, in a kind of polyphonic dialogue between proximity and distance. (H. V.)

«Rechant» (1995), 15’51

Initially, a few brief sounds of instrumental origin — percussions, flutes, strings. Processed by means of various digital techniques, projected on various temporal scales, analyzed and re-synthesized, worked in their parts (in their saliences), articulated in their edges as well as in their interactions, these sounds show, as Bachelard would say, «pluralism under identity». I thus tried to compose morphologies by targeting properties contained in the material and by projecting them on temporal perspectives of all sizes. The title, an allusion to the old polyphonic technique, refers to the iterative content of these morphologies as well as to the modalities of their interweaving. (H. V.)

«24 Variations» (2001), 09’50

The word «variations» applies here to the morphological transformations of the material, as well as to the various contexts in which these transformations appear. The result can be heard as a continuous interaction between sound particles of different sizes, composed of several layers, reflecting a preoccupation with detailed articulation spanning different time scales. (H. V.)

«Gymel» (2002), 09’25

In Gymel I tried to compose a space-trajectory using layered sounds, produced by morphological operations (splits, clusterings) that spread out from location to location in variously dense objects. The space was treated through phase-decorrelation, a technique which I use extensively, both to create spaces and to locate sounds and movements within a polyphonic (stratified) context. (H. V.)

Staging an attempt to gloss their music, Gentle Stranger
say it recalls “throwing a bouncy ball into a hall of mirrors.”
It’s telling that normal routes of describing music - your
typical band boilerplate of “such and such meets such and
such” or “we just play guitar, us, and leave the writing up to
you” - doesn’t suffice for the London collective; instead a
more arcane, more potent image is fired back, a wonky
and poetic idea that’s instantly more arresting, more
substantial.
For the newly initiated, Gentle Stranger are a selfdescribed “post-clown” outfit that oscillate between musical
forms, achieving a bewildering, almost Joycean
experimental sweep; pastiche, parody, burlesque, earnest
composition, genre interrogation and progression - they
cover it all. Their renowned live performances see the trio
cycle through an arsenal of musical instruments,
apparatus, tackle, and stuff. The set (part of the reason for
their now cult-like following) hangs together intricately, a
fractal clockwork machine that relies on movement and
spatial-awareness as much as it does timing and
musicality.
Upon witnessing the Gentle Stranger live show (‘show’
here is most certainly in the theatrical, carnivalesque,
extravaganza sense of the word), it’s tempting to question
whether they could reiterate, reshape, and condense this
uniquely visual and visceral spectacle into recorded music
- and the answer is yes. The latest update of the Gentle
Stranger sound lands in the form of ‘Upon Return’, their
barnstorming third album.
Gentle Stranger reportedly enjoy “revelling in the
disarray” of ‘Upon Return’, this ornate and finely wrought
mind palace - it’s a riveting and often joyous experience
soundtracked by strange, strange, and stranger music.
Available on black vinyl LP.

Angis Music invites you to listen to "Selva" the second release from the Padova duo composed of Stefano Cosi and Alberto Lincetto. The three songs featured represent the deep desire to communicate an evolution of sound and to tell a story that goes beyond traditional paradigms and genre labels. The “chiaroscuro”, lights and shadows, that characterize HUMA's music are once again the result of compositional and sound explorations that travel from jazz to 70’s funk, from deep house to electronic, with echoes of Brazil and film soundtracks. Side A opens with the misty and romantic landscape of "Free and Lost”, in which acoustic, electronic and deep bass sounds blend in a dark and spiritual atmosphere. The journey develops further into "An Ordinary Life” which sees the participation of Yeofi Andoh, aka A Race Of Angels, Los Angeles-based vocalist and co-author of the track, and of Amilcar Soto Rodriguez on classical guitar. It slowly emerges from the initial psychedelic sphere, landing on luminous harmonies and funk rhythms to reiterate a contrast that speaks of life cycles and the relationship between man and nature. This path ends with the title track "Selva" in which the synthetic percussive tangle keeps the listener in a meditative state of disorientation guided by the melodic lines of a dusty Fender Rhodes. It is the temporary epilogue of a story that has just begun..

Soundway Records presents the eponymous debut LP from in-demand Amsterdam five piece The Mauskovic Dance Band – fusing no-wave dance punk, Afro-Caribbean rhythms and space disco in a “controlled explosion” (The Quietus).

Entirely self-produced, the band has reiterated their favourite elements of the 70s and 80s legacy of the Afro-Latin psychedelic music of Colombia and Peru, interpreting it through the context of modern day Amsterdam. The output is a lo-fi No Wave groove all its own - rooted in a deep love of champeta, Palenque, psychedelic cumbia, chichi, classic afrobeat and picó soundsystem culture.

Since the release of their “Down In The Basement” EP on Soundway Records in early 2018, the band have found themselves on a hectic European touring schedule – not to mention being involved in other side projects. Following stints with Turkish psychedelic folk rock group Altin Gün, and touring with the re-formed 70s Zamrock outfit W.I.T.C.H., Nic Mauskovic also teamed up with Dutch neo-psychedelic artist Jacco Gardner to form the “cinematic Balearic disco” duo of Bruxas (released by Dutch institution Dekmantel) – and together, they mixed The Mauskovic Dance Band debut album in Lisbon.

Lead single Space Drum Machine encapsulates the band’s prototypical brand of busy rhythmic patterns interwoven with insistent synth stabs and vibrant disco toms, layered with an elastic guitar riff drawing inspiration from Kenyan kikuyu and benga styles. High-pitched vocals describe being on a flight together and inciting each other to press a button of unknown consequence with “push it, push it” - and push it they do, at breakneck pace. And of course, the undeniable influence of Amsterdam’s hotbed of underground dance producers shines through as it does on all tracks - with the vintage psychedelic swirl of synthesiser, lo-fi drum machines and tape recording.

Georgian artist Sophia Saze releases her debut two-part album 'Self' on Francis Harris' Kingdoms imprint, with part one dropping on cassette this June. "The record embodies my story of duality within the context of identity, insomuch as the idea that every person has a deeper layer we don't show on the surface."
Born in Tbilisi, Sophia Saze is the daughter of political refugees who's spent her life living in numerous different countries before eventually finding home in Brooklyn. Finding it difficult to find her own identity due to living a nomadic lifestyle, the classically trained musician became entangled with electronic music before becoming a key player within New York's nightlife scene and launching her Dusk & Haze imprint in 2017.
A reflection of her struggles throughout life, 'Self' is very much a memoir of the many different places she's lived during her journey, including Georgia, Russia, USA, France and Canada. Contrasting to her recent productions, which are geared more towards the dancefloor, her debut longplayer is downtempo and features a medley of musical influences - mixed in two parts and released as a concept album on cassette. Maintaining a sonically raw feel throughout, 'Self' draws the analogy of analog to modern day digital culture whilst also taking a stance against perfection, whether integrating the distance crackle of her machines or intentional off-beat piano notes in minor. Part One was conceived, for the most part, during a sleepless yet inspired 48-hour studio session. Processed field recordings accompany samples from her childhood, such as soviet cartoons and intimate VHS recordings of her family. The result is a well-seasoned and personal story portrayed in fourteen tracks mixed together.
"I feel the element of patience is somewhat of a lost commodity in our generation, particularly for albums. We're consumed by track to track interpretations and constantly searching for the next instant stimulation. With this record, I wanted to reiterate the idea that if you don't have the willingness to sit through the whole thing, then you're not stepping into it with the right mindset to begin with."
Every artist who collaborated on the record is handpicked, such as vocalist Ricardo Rivera. The final production was also mixed by Francis Harris himself. All of their involvement means they share a fragment of the concept.

In search of the sublime, contemporary electronic musician Steve Hauschildt has designed grids and panoramas of sound across multiple releases through the rise and dissolution of his former band, Emeralds, an American touchstone of 2000s home-recorded psychedelic noise music. Consistent with his solo work is Hauschildt's ability to coil his craft in precise, varied, and distinctly physical forms. Gently spinning arpeggios converse with post-industrial decay. Sonic bers sway like pendulums from static melancholy to motorik bliss. Dissolvi, the artist's rst full-length with Ghostly International, engages sublimation from an ontological perspective: by dissociating the self. Hauschildt steps out from the singular path, for the rst time in a traditional studio, to compose and arrange contributions from friends. As a result, his most collaborative work to date extends a vast, vibrating framework in which to consider the state of being.

The album's title — a reference to cupio dissolvi, the Latin phrase meaning "I wish to be dissolved" — needn't be taken one-dimensionally or as purely solipsistic. It does, however, serve an apt reference. Physiological phenomena are of interest to Hauschildt. These back-of-mind ruminations nd their way out. Songs are cerebral in orientation, but beyond explanation, the music is truly visceral.

Involuntary eye movement inspires the serene, sanguine-nearing-suspicious "Saccade." Hauschildt feathers soft percussion beneath the echoed refrains of Los Angeles musician Julianna Barwick, together shaping a svelte suggestion of the anxieties brought about by modern-day surveillance; if everyone is being watched constantly, there is no individual, no self, only a broadly monitored and clumsily cataloged populous. The work of Chicago poet Carl Sandburg comes to mind: 'I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.' The individual dissolves into the taxonomic crowd.

Minimalist techno impulses provide a stylistic through-line for Dissolvi. Understated synth phrases and drum grooves take hold in selective moments, like synchronistic structures onto which nebulous mists, like the rapturous voice of Gabrielle Herbst aka GABI on "Syncope," cling to and cloud, producing a dazzling rift in consciousness. The 7-minute centerpiece "Alienself" reiterates this creative logic, burbling like an amorphous body of water on a low-gravity planet, on the verge of dissolving, but never fully dematerializing.

The album was constructed in Chicago (where Hauschildt now resides) and partially in New York. "Much of it was recorded in a windowless studio which removed elemental or seasonal references to time in the music," says Hauschildt. "The focus this time was on mixing the album and incorporating a broader set of instrumentation. I describe my compositional approach as being quasi-generative." Embracing new methods and philosophical curiosities, and in turn, expanding the range of his repertoire, Hauschildt proposes a fascinating and profoundly rich experience in listening, being, and deliquescing.

RAWAX IS PROUD TO WELCOME MR. K-ALEXI SHELBY TO THE FAMILY!
Mr. K Alexi Shelby
Like a moth drawn to a flame, there is something utterly infectious about the music of Mr.K Alexi Shelby, better known as K-Alexi one of the founding fathers of house music direct from his home city of Chicago. Since the late 1980s, he has pioneered the true house sound, leading to a DH and production career spanning over 20 years, including collaborations with artists ranging from The Pet Shop Boys to Derrick May and from Larry Heard and Felix da Housecat to Will Smith, as well as gigs across the globe.
An impressionable young teenager, Mr.K Alexi Shelby developed friendships with Frankie Knuckles and Ron Hardy whilst attending seminal venues like The Warehouse and The Music Box in the mid 1980s. Being here at this embryonic stage of dance music culture, there were no rules or precedents, so K Alexi drew on a rich musical heritage that had seen him grow up in the 70s and 80s listening to Stevie Wonder, Prince, Curtis Mayfield and David Huff. Those roots continue to influence his music to this day.
It was under the moniker Risque III that Essence Of A Dream was released in 1987, firmly establishing the name of Mr.K Alexi Shelby amongst the most prominent of all house producers at the time. Moreover, those early tracks are still recognized to be the quintessential Chicago house sound. The rumbling and dark bass, smooth strings, incredible percussion and the spoken word poetic and erotic lyrical flow became the trademark for classic Chicago house and the template for everything else that followed. To reiterate, there was no template before this. This was the beginning.
This initial success has lead to Mr.K Alexi Shelby working with the leading names across the electronic music world and beyond. Collaborations and remixes for Chicago peers like Mike Dunn, Mr. Lee and Marshall Jefferson merely served as the springboard for Alexi to work with the best in the electronic scene, from Derrick May to Paul Johnson ,Ron Trent Dave Angel to Felix ad House Kat. Furthermore, his talents have also lead to him working with The Pet Shop Boys and Will Smith.
On top of this, his tracks have appeared on compilations by artists varying from Laurent Garnier to DJ Hell, who used It's Me 2010 contribution to the Body Language series for Get Physical Music. Produced under the Club M.C.M. moniker, the 1991 EP It's Me/Club M.C.M. has been a frequent selection for compilations for 20 years and is rightly regarded as a true underground techno classic.