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Crawling up from the cold underground in Toronto, Canada, Some Exercise delivers their debut record - Web Peril.
Uncompromising and unsettling, the project's inaugural full-length is a noisy yet rhythmic hybrid of classic New Wave tropes and forward-reaching experimentalism. It's a part-post punk, part-industrial analysis of our post-internet age.
Cybernetic beats pulsate beneath jagged and occasionally dissonant guitar licks - recalling the same abstract danceability as underground legends like SPK and Suburban Lawns. Evocative vocals are joined by EBM-style synthesizers, molasses-thick bass, and clanking drum machines.
In a contemporary music landscape where capitalist algorithms promise fame and fortune, Web Peril sinks its teeth the hand that feeds, offering this cautionary tale - the onus is yours. Online is offline. Consume what consumes you.

Oráculo Records has always had a special interest in pushing electronic music towards unexplored territories, and it is precisely within this microcosm that IP307 emerges. Blending the most dub- infused and mechanical forms of electro with industrial, EBM and even post-punk, the project delivers a hypnotic, forceful and deeply cathartic sound.

Behind IP307 is Israel Padilla, founder of Banshees Records and one of the leading figures of the industrial scene in the Iberian Peninsula. With “IP307.1”, he presents six interconnected compositions, each with its own distinct identity while contributing to a coherent vision of seemingly opposing styles, reimagined into a singular language.

The result is neither a nostalgic exercise nor a stylistic collage. Instead, it reflects the experience, technical mastery and artistic vision of someone fully capable of expanding the path opened by pioneers such as Clock DVA in their later works, or Atom™, both through his solo output and as part of ASA alongside Esplendor Geométrico.

New sonic artillery for the most forward-thinking listeners already embracing this emerging strand of dark electro through our recent releases such as Occulimus by Mystic Letter K or the work of Maman Küsters, “IP307.1” offers another essential chapter in the evolution of this new form of sound. Welcome to the future. Welcome to IP307.

The unconscious element to the conscious process.

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

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

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

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

Dub:

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

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

Push the mixer into the red.

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

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

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

Carelessness.

Noise:

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Miles

Balvanera is the project of Agustina Vizcarra and Lucas Palavecino from Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Since 2016, the duo has been building a sonic narrative that moves between the corporeal and the spectral, exploring waves and minimal synth as well as more intense and rhythmic directions closer to Body music, all while sharing the stage with artists such as Clan of Xymox, Boy Harsher, Die Selektion, Kontravoid, NNHMN and Ashcode.

New album Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguaje arrives as an attempt to push expression to the limit, focused on language and sound as expressive forms.
With all tracks sung in Spanish, the album is a declaration of identity and at the same time an exercise with Spanish itself: how to play with a language that sometimes feels baroque and turn it into something stark while retaining its richness. Musically direct, the album occasionally returns to some minimalism reminiscent of the band’s early releases while preserving the intensity and club-oriented feel of their later work. At times intensifying in speed, the record brings the energy of their live performances to visibility, while other tracks feel like an unsettlingly dreamlike atmosphere. The title – meaning Until Touching the Empty Bottom of Language – borrowed from a fragment of Arturo Carrera’s poem Escrito con un nictógrafo, offers a clue to Balvanera’s nocturnal sensibility: those thoughts and images that can only emerge in the sleepless hours of the night, when they reach their most revealing edge.

Hasta tocar el fondo vacío del lenguajen explores death as something hidden within language while allowing each track to find its own form rather than adhering to genre conventions.

Split released with DKA. Out October 1st, 2026 on aquamarine vinyl LP limited to 500 with lyrics insert.

’Still’ is a compilation album first released in 1981 after the death of Joy Division singer Ian Curtis. Their two previous albums had already cemented the Manchester’s band’s iconic status in music history and ‘Still’ filled in gaps.

It featured previously unreleased studio material, two non-album tracks ‘Dead Souls’ and ‘Glass’ and a live recording of Joy Division’s last ever concert, at Birmingham University. The show included the only live performance of ‘Ceremony’ by the band, who later morphed into New Order and released it as a single.

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

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

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

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

- Nick Klein, January 2026

Discrepant presents Fantarombo, a new album by Giovanni Lami.

While his previous works often moved through memory, residue, degradation, and dialogue with existing materials, Fantarombo takes shape as an unstable, bodily gesture.

Sound is not recalled or reconstructed, but triggered, pushed, and set in motion as an active force. Lami approaches modular synthesis as a physical, hands-on practice rather than a technical exercise or display of system mastery. The modular setup becomes a responsive body: something to be nudged, listened to, and occasionally resisted.

The pieces unfold through slow accumulations, unstable feedback paths, and carefully misaligned sequences. Rather than driving toward resolution, the music lingers in states of suspension, allowing small shifts in voltage, timing, and texture to reshape the whole. Chance and duration play a central role, with structure emerging gradually from repetition and drift.

There is an unmistakably organic quality to the sound: porous, tactile, and quietly resonant. A sensitivity to space, grain, and micro-movement, where subtle changes carry as much weight as overt gestures. On Fantarombo, process takes precedence over control, and the circuitry is allowed to speak back, resulting in music that feels intimate, unstable, and quietly insistent, revealing itself slowly through sustained attention.

A music of unresolved behaviours, suspended somewhere between obsolete digital optimism, imaginary systems and malfunctioning computational folklore.

here is a direct and enduring connection between the roots of Italian electronic music and the underground club culture of today.

Boldly pulling that thread are Marta Paradise, the duo from Martina Franca (Puglia, Italy), who have established themselves as a go-to name for anyone craving an elegant, refined sound that remains unapologetic.

For their latest release, they team up once again with a true legend: Fred Ventura. As one of the most iconic artists of early Italo Disco, Ventura brings an unmistakable vocal timbre that turns every track into an instant classic.

The result of this cross-generational collaboration is Call In The Night, a track that bridges authentic Italian heritage with the sharpest edges of modern Indie Dance. It delivers everything discerning clubbers live for: shimmering synths cutting through the dark, an octave-driven bassline that locks you to the dancefloor and a nocturnal, dreamy, relentlessly catchy vocal line.

Elevating the package even further is a stellar remix package featuring some of the hottest names on the current circuit, including Mystery Friend, Day Ventura, the unmistakable touch of the legendary Flemming Dalum, and Slow Motion label boss Franz Scala.

Far from a simple nostalgia exercise, Call In The Night is a forward-looking journey with a vintage soul that never falls into cheap clichés. Past and present merge to set the world’s most visionary DJ booths ablaze.

Written by GIANLUCA SERVETTI
HEY CABRERA
Owner of the Magazine “rockerilla”

You know the pattern: someone calls their album "Balearic," and you immediately expect chill-out terraces, pan-flute samples, and the umpteenth return of the Café del Mar sunset. Devi G. refuses this reflex almost maliciously. The title is a trick—an invitation to disappointment for those hoping for postcard exoticism. What is actually being negotiated here is erosion, but that of the body itself: the abrasion one inflicts upon oneself in the excess of the night, when partying turns into wear and tear, and a rush becomes a graze that only becomes visible in the morning. No backdrop, then, but a wound one has voluntarily acquired.

Instead of the usual Ibiza xylophones, Devi G. digs into the rift between idyll and wear. The result reads like a séance—less José Padilla, more as if Kevin Martin had re-recorded a Manuel Göttsching record on a dying four-track deck. The target area lies somewhere between the waterlogged ambient sketches of Huerco S. and the faded dub-afterglow of Actress, but Devi G. remains consistently on his own, grainier frequency.

Balearic Abrasions (title track) opens without haste, demanding almost without impatience: no motif, no rhythmic handhold, just a slowly tilting balance between warm texture and rough surface. The grain never feels forced—it is not a lo-fi costume, but an integral part of the statics themselves. Where other ambient producers strive for perfection, Devi G. consciously seeks the breaking point. Rhythm remains a tool, never an ambition. Those expecting quick resolution will be disappointed; those willing to listen will receive a depth effect that is rarely this vivid.

Exit Through Thee Gift Shop tips into harder territory: dub-techno reduction meets industrial edge, carried by a stoic kick drum that knows no mercy. Metallic textures slice through the sub-bass, while repetitive chords hypnotize like a defective loop. Central to this is a rare Terence McKenna recording, which functions less as spoken-word ornamentation and more as a disruptive spirit between memory and media archaeology. The title—Banksy reference included—turns this into a biting punchline: radical electronic abstraction positioned against the hyper-commercialized art world.

Morning Depth pushes the claustrophobia further, somewhere between post-industrial and deep-sea dub. The track refuses any peak-time logic, preferring to disintegrate into itself, subcutaneously, methodically. At the end, a casual, almost banal vocal sample (“i defiantly prefer chocolate”) breaks into the cool machinery—a small, profane fissure that makes the coldness of the rest of the piece all the more apparent.

Desiré Algorithmic is the album's most calculated moment: a stoic, repetitive bassline as a foundation, topped with fragile melody fragments that flash like glitches in faulty code. The title reads like a promise from nightlife—a figure that suggests much and delivers nothing, because behind the façade there is simply nothing, only simulation. The track carries exactly this principle: promise without substance, desire without body, just rendering. Only in the final third does a melancholic saxophone break into the sterile structure—organic, imperfect, and for that very reason more credible than everything before it. It is the moment in which the real briefly flashes through the surface of the dummy before it closes again.

All-inclusive Residue concludes the album as sedimentation rather than dramaturgy: dub-techno remnants, industrial patina, salty ambient surfaces that settle rather than compose. The refusal of consumption as a sonic principle—brittle, stubborn, with a gravity that lingers long after.

Verdict: Balearic Abrasions is not easy listening with a sea view, but an exercise in patience and friction. The restraint with which Devi G. avoids climaxes will frustrate some—for everyone else, that is exactly where the record's strength lies. No sunset. Rather, what remains on the rocks afterward.

*TIP* Previously released on Low Company in 2023, now back... a weirdo lo fi gem

Naturestrip, Naarm, Australia write:

"purely physical teeny tapes perform an invaluable public service in exhuming static cleaner lost reward’s ‘breathing under honey from the heady year o’ 2023’, a slack-jawed riddle within the all-consuming enigma that is thee world of tarquin manek™.

few records command a reissue so soon after their release, the soil heaped atop the (sainted) low company corpse still remaining more than a little damp, but this one’s discreet-to-the-point-of-fury initial release justifies the flogging of the proverbial carked horse, boiled back down into glue for a fresh round of rollicking mucky. arriving as the last release on that fine imprint, ‘breathing under honey’ represents (obliquely, natch) something of a convenient summary of that aforementioned elegantly sloshed world™, condensing as it does the artist’s proclivities exercised among the sweetest of contemporary depth-dwellers, articulated alongside/within y.l. hooi, bum creek, carla dal forno, f ingers, kallista kult, under endless solo monikers…the fun never ends.

let loose here in a suitably gonzo/spellunked mood, the second full-length under the static cleaner moniker (see debut $mile$ from 2013 thru altered states) is compiled of delirious half-thoughts & riddimic gestures accumulated between 2013 & 2020, everything wet & awash with a fine sprouting of lysergic mush between its digits. the implication thereof might suggest something schlonky or amateurish, but fear not, prospective listener, for your ears are in the sticky hands of one of the finest shit-savant prodigies these times have known, crud-caked technoid shapes & blissed pop-glob nous submerged in sublime dubbed-out grog, the resulting sonar-pong shards positively chemical in their ability to simultaneously slant + seduce.

think: martin denny face-deep in a paper bag at the black ark, graciously fucked tropicalia, liquid dub techno housed in vat of spiked quaff, the skaters infiltrating urban tribe, lopsided + caked to the nines in glitter for the gutter.

utterly tranced, sumptuous/sweet & patently ill. a classique of this modern horror epoch if there ever was one."

The debut release by Confusion on Incompetence Records documents an exercise in disciplined spontaneity, a jam session where organic interaction is rigorously shaped into form. Recorded live in Belgrade by Dmitrii Steinberg, Aleksei Siubaev, Viktor Volkovich, Evgenii Piankov, and Leonid Lipelis, the material was subsequently dissected and reassembled with a scalpel like precision reminiscent of Teo Macero’s landmark edits for Miles Davis. What emerges is not a loose improvisational document but a suite of cohesive constructed pieces: weightless structures suspended over a hypnotic pulse, steeped in cosmic vibes and soft psychedelia. There is a slo mo insistence to the grooves, a kosmiche drift that folds jazz funk rituals into something both intimate and expansive. For musicians previously orbiting rare groove, house, indie rock, and modern composition, Confusion expands their explorations into a terrain where genre dissolves into texture and intention. The record’s mesmerizing beauty lies in its restraint, motifs surface, dissolve, and return as if refracted through magnetic tape memory, each fragment locked into place yet breathing with human elasticity. Rather than presenting virtuosity, the quintet channels it into atmosphere, into a patient, glowing continuum that feels less like a jam and more like a carefully mapped inner cosmos, calibrated for deep listening and slow revelation.

WOW! An early ’80s New Wave, Electro, Proto-Electronica, Industrial and Kraut-Pop album that has never been released before is now coming out on Elaste Records and it’s a perfect fit! History is being made.

Quotes: “A pearl” (Hans Nieswandt) / “Great album” (Hell, Gigolo) / “Awesome album” (Patrick Pulsinger) / “Magnificent material” (Roman Flügel) / “An ’80s electronic gem… an ’80s Krautpop highlight” (Sankt Otten).

In the early eighties, Michael Heinkel was one of those quiet electronic musicians hardly anyone knew — at least outside of Munich. While machine rhythms were being perfected in Düsseldorf, dilettantism was elevated into an art form in Hamburg and West Berlin was soundtracking its own feverish coldness, Munich seemed to be a place where, apparently, nothing was happening. Or almost nothing. Because beneath the radar, far removed from the grand narratives of those years, Michael Heinkel was already creating his own electronic cosmos — stripped-down, idiosyncratic and often ahead of its time. Electronic minimalist music, born somewhere between a home studio, nightlife and the longing for a future that could only just be imagined back then. But the recordings disappeared into drawers, onto cassettes and tape reels. For decades, they remained a secret shared only among friends, insiders and a handful of close companions. It was only 45 years later that Andreas Dorau and Ralf Hertwig (Palais Schaumburg) — two defining figures of that early avant-garde — insisted that the recordings finally be made accessible. Not as an exercise in nostalgia, but as the overdue release of a missing piece in the history of German electronic music. This music is not a nostalgic retrospective. It is a delayed signal from a future that had already begun back then. Format: Heavyweight black vinyl incl. printed inner sleeve + download card



Quotes: -"Michael Heinkel's long-lost LP is a treasure trove. I'm constantly amazed at the musical gems from the early '80s that are still waiting to be discovered." - Hans Nieswandt (Whirlpool Productions) - „Some München musical history that somehow got missed at the time finally gets released after 40 years. Great album.“ - Hell (Gigolo) - “Awesome album! Today, we can only imagine just how groundbreaking electronic music at this level was back then. When gems like these are heard for the first time in perfect sound quality, it’s like a trip back in time to the early days of electronic music. Back to the future!!!” - Patrick Pulsinger (Cheap / iO / Sluts’n‘ Strings & 909 / The Private Lightning Six) - “Terrific material!” - Roman Flügel (Acid Jesus / Alter Ego / Sensorama / Warp 69) - “ELASTE has unearthed an 80s electronic gem! A German minimal wave gem-freshly unearthed! Minimal, rare, brilliant - an 80s Krautpop highlight.” - Sankt Otten - „Pure and delicious 80s Electronics from Munich. We love it.“ - Gorilla Aktiv

Elypsia Records presents A Future Tribe, the new album from Italian electronic music producers CEM3340 & 2030. Rooted in the formative language of electro and early techno, A Future Tribe channels the past through a lens very much focused on the future. Across the album, analogue warmth, machine-driven funk, synthetic textures and futuristic atmospheres come together in a sound that channels the pioneering spirit of early Detroit while remaining unmistakably connected to the present. For CEM3340 and 2030, machines are not simply tools, they are central to the creative process. Both producers have spent years immersed in the culture of electronic hardware. They've been carefully building and refining their own approach to production through an extensive collection of synthesisers, drum machines, sequencers and studio equipment. Based in Bari, southern Italy, their work reflects a deep fascination with the physicality of electronic music: oscillators, circuitry, voltage, rhythm and the unpredictable character of machines programmed and played with a human touch. That philosophy is deeply embedded in A Future Tribe. Rather than treating the early years of techno as a museum piece, CEM3340 & 2030 approach its foundational ideas as a living language - one that can be stripped back, re-translated and taken somewhere new. The influence of Detroit's first generation of electronic innovators is unmistakable. There are echoes of the futuristic electro and techno pioneered by artists including Juan Atkins and his contemporaries, where funk, science fiction, machines and the possibilities of tomorrow became part of a new musical vocabulary. It is an approach that has already earned the duo recognition within that lineage. Their previous Machines Awake EP, released through Atkins' Metroplex Records, was described as paying homage to the classic foundations of the genre while pushing them into new territory. Juan himself gave the release his sonic approval. But A Future Tribe is not an exercise in retro-futurism for its own sake. The album comes from two producers who understand the history, have the hardware to explore it and, crucially, are interested in what happens when those influences are given space to evolve. The result is electronic music that is full of funk, groove and a kind of nostalgia that is pure and intentional without being a pastiche. Together, they make music that is rooted in one simple truth: machines can't come to life without human creativity.

For the third release on Earthbound, Mihail P steps into a slightly different frame of mind with Silent Mirrors — an EP that pulls his atmospheric, emotive sound toward the rougher edges of 90s tech house, breakbeat and electro.

While Mihail P has become known for spacious productions, warm pads and mellow melodic detail, Silent Mirrors is about merging that side of his sound with something more direct and club-focused. There is a clear nod here to the halcyon days of UK tech house and labels and artists such as Primitive Urges and Pure Science, but filtered through Mihail P’s own sensibility rather than treated as an exercise in nostalgia.

The tenth anniversary edition of Venetian Snares' Traditional Synthesizer Music adds ten more tracks and alternative versions previously available only on a limited edition compact disc from the artist's Bandcamp.Traditional Synthesizer Music is a collection of songs created and performed live exclusively on the modular synthesizer by Aaron Funk. Each sound contained within was created purely with the modular synthesizer. No overdubbing or editing techniques were utilized in the recordings on Traditional Synthesizer Music. Each song was approached from the ground up and dismantled upon the completion of its recording. The goal was to develop songs with interchangeable structures and substructures, yet musically pleasing motifs.

Many techniques were incorporated to "humanize" or vary the rhythmic results within these sub structures. An exercise in constructing surprises, patches interrupting each other to create unforeseen progressions. Multiple takes were recorded for each song resulting in vastly different versions of each piece, a number of which are released for the first time on vinyl and digital for this updated version of the album. BIO Aaron Funk, mainly known artistically as Venetian Snares, is a Canadian electronic musician based in Winnipeg, Manitoba who’s been working since the mid nineties. He is widely known for innovating and popularising the breakcore genre being something of its breakout star. His signature style features complex drums and unusual time signatures and a knack for making ultra-vivid music that takes listeners into unusual places, from the aggressive and extreme, to the surreal, comic and sometimes plain beautiful. His musical explorations extend out in many different ways, from the complex Hungarian, classical-inspired Rossz Csillag Alatt Született, to acid explorations as Last Step, to innovations with modular synths on Traditional Synthesiser Music.

As a collaborator, he’s made music using intimate recordings as musical elements with the artist Hecate as Nymphomatriarch, as Poemss with Joanne Pollock, where they both sing over strange delicate pop. He’s recorded an album of rich, edited improvisations with producer and guitarist Daniel Lanois and he’s also part of the sometime duo Speed Dealer Moms with John Frusciante. Most recently he features on Rosalia’s album Lux on the song Reliquia, providing drum programming and production input.

The breakout underground star of the past year, the deservedly hyped Thought Leadership returns with another X ideas: the deck this time chooses the suit of Cups. This new collection is closer to the Post-Punk tonality of Pentacles, than the breezy Balearic Jazz of Swords. Gone are the brushed drum samples and airy synths and in their place are BIG guitars, 808 thumps and a decidedly more prominent use of bass as a melodic device.

As the suit of Cups reflects the emotional heart of the Tarot, presented within are a further X pieces, this time displaying the full range and fervour of Thought Leadership.

You know the drill by now. Originally out on cassette only, we present the first ever vinyl issue. It's a hideously limited pressing of 300 for the world, so don't sleep on this.

Side A explores the emotional levels of consciousness; angst, joy, love, sorrow, relief, regret – they are all represented across the first seven tracks, and often within the same piece. XXI kicks us off with a huge tumbling D minor passage, layers and layers of guitar front and centre, whilst the drums pound away in the distance. Release is provided with a gorgeous G Dorian section, where we hear the bass take flight with a high melodic line.

We’re still in familiar Durutti Column meets Dif Juz territory here, but things switch up with XXII. This piece showcases a darker, more angular palette of guitars; think Alan Rankine (The Associates), or Deb Demure (Drab Majesty) in the unexpected harmonic shifts, knotty arpeggiated patterns and heavy, goth-adjacent modulation. A real love letter to 45+ years of darkly inclined guitar heritage.

XXIII enters the fray with tight, thumping 808s and Marr-esque guitar figures; and again, the bass providing heavy melodic counterpoint to the guitars. Enter chiming, lyrical lead phrasing, reminiscent of the eternal opening to "Everybody Wants To Rule The World". Another accidental perfect pop moment from the Thought Leader. Whilst on the topic of Tears For Fears, XXIV comes swinging out of the gate with some serious Sophisti-chug; we’re reminded of "Shout" in the A section, before being beautifully juxtaposed in the B section with more Vini-eqsue patterns, reminiscent of his timeless classic, Another Setting.

XXV gives us welcome pause to take stock midway through the A side. No drums this time, but instead a heartbreaking conversation between two guitars; think Kevin McCormick and David Horridge’s masterful Light Patterns, or perhaps even the early solo-Bill Connors mid-70s cuts for ECM. The moment of quiet reflection passes, and is quickly shattered by the thudding march of XXVI – this piece comes across like The Associates playing "Wicked Game"; heavy, moody, and utterly compelling. XXVII ends our journey across Side A with more Marr-inspired playing; one for the heads and already featured on mixes, this one is real testament to the vision of Thought Leadership.

Side B again takes us on a trip through three long-form semi-improvised pieces. XXVIII is like those classic Jonny Nash, early Melody As Truth releases, slowly unfurling, additional details introduced deliberately piece by piece, this idea builds across 7+ minutes culminating in some utterly joyous ebow fireworks at the end – well Balearic.

XXIX again, like XXV before it, dispatches the drums with a focus purely on melody and mood. The piece feels like a lost Save Room Theme from the Resident Evil series, pure golden age Capcom Sound Team vibes. Unadulterated aural nostalgia for hours spent with a PS1 in haze of hash.

XXX completes this majestic voyage with another Modal exercise; this time the Thought Leader has opted for the Lydian Mode. Beautifully dreamy, undeniably Soundtrack-y, and arguably the most concise distillation so far of everything this project stands for; drum machines, guitars, pedals, one-take improvised solos – XXX has the lot, and is surely destined for greatness.

So, another X epic statements for guitar, homespun with the humblest of means, for all the dreamers out there. The first ever vinyl release of IV Of Cups has been carefully remastered by Be With's engineer Simon Francis to ensure it sounds better than ever after its initial tape release. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut at Abbey Road Studios whilst the records have been pressed to the highest possible standard at Record Industry, in Holland. The original tape cover artwork, so crucial to Thought Leadership's striking visual aesthetic, has been rejigged for vinyl issue here at Be With.

The last 2 LPs flew. You have been warned.

Following his collaborative EP with Om Unit, titled Pressure 3D, the Italian born, London-based producer Dario Picchi, aka Soreab, presents his new album CU, which compresses techno, grime, dub and industrial into compellingly taut, musculoskeletal forms.

Short for Completely Unstable, but also pronounced See You – suggesting an acknowledgement and also a farewell, the album is characterised by pressurised jettison, where personal disquiet fuelled compelling results. With its track titles reading like a process, the record could be viewed a set of exercises from a mental health toolkit, or a series of diagrams for the liberation of wellbeing.

Bursting forward with momentum like the uncoiling of a tightly wound spring, CU’s unleashed energy is captivating across 10 combinations of texture, tension and torque; each of which was recorded in just four takes, allowing unfiltered impulses to resonate with honesty.

Like Radical Minimalism for sound systems, discarding stress by cathartic decluttering, and stripping elements to their rawest forms, CU shows that that instability, when harnessed, can yield something elemental, and essential.

Born Bad Records knew exactly what it was doing when it signed this Nantes-based trio, whose sharply defined sound and raw authenticity stand out. With Rage Blossom, Île de Garde unveils an EP charged with palpable tension, somewhere between dark pop and psycho-wave. A catalogue of modern misdeeds, a David Lynch-like backdrop where Sylvia Plath’s poetry might cross paths with the controlled excesses of Fever Ray.



The EP opens with “Fear The Sun,” its Mike Oldfield-esque soundscapes plunging us into an apocalyptic and unsettling world. “Homicide Volontaire” follows with meticulous narration, a technical exercise evoking the anger and defiant lucidity of a Virginie Despentes. The hallucinatory hit “To Death” snaps like an anthem to collective dancing in the face of the inevitable. Since we’re going to die, let’s dance! On the B-side, “Ageless Woman” weaves together a half-mythological, half-mysterious text, carried by haunting backing vocals. “Birthday Girl,” featuring Kuntessa, radiates an ironic and joyful riot-grrrl energy, an uninhibited celebration of women’s liberation. Finally, “Boy,” a small post-punk jewel, closes the EP with an ending as surprising as it is delicate.

The group’s genius also lies in the complementarity of its musicians. Morgane Poulain anchors the drums with a dynamic that is both subtle and narrative, airy yet jagged. Cécile Aurégan, the architect behind a multitude of synths, builds powerful sonic landscapes, layer upon layer. Klara Coudrais, the band’s poetic figurehead, elevates her texts with a rich and plural vocal palette, giving life to several characters who vibrate with intensity. The band’s writing, hovering between darkness and light, echoes a kind of visceral poetry, exploring the seasons of the soul with authenticity and force.



With this EP, Île de Garde establishes itself as a band to watch closely, capable of translating on stage both the raw energy and the fine craftsmanship that define their music. An immersive journey, full of tension, urgency, beauty, and electric flashes.



Île de Garde, a Nantes-based trio with sharply drawn sonic contours and raw authenticity, unleashes its full arsenal on Rage Blossom, an EP radiating palpable tension between dark pop and psycho-wave. A catalogue of modern misdeeds, a David Lynch-like setting where Sylvia Plath’s poetry would meet the controlled excesses of Fever Ray. An immersive journey of tension, urgency, beauty, and electric sparks.

Opening track “Fear The Sun” plunges us into an apocalyptic and unsettling landscape. “Homicide Volontaire” continues with meticulous storytelling, a crime vignette evoking anger and the fierce lucidity summoned by a situation with no way out. The hallucinatory trance of “To Death” snaps like an anthem to collective dance in the face of the inevitable. Since we are going to die, let’s dance! “Ageless Woman” blends a half-mythological, half-mysterious text, carried by hypnotic backing vocals. “Birthday Girl,” featuring Kuntessa, releases an ironic and joyful riot-grrrl spirit, an uninhibited celebration of feminine liberation. Finally, “Boy,” a small post-punk case study, closes the EP with a simple, sensitive truth.



The three musicians propel and relay one another in this breathless race. Morgane Poulain drives the drums with a dynamic that is both subtle and narrative, airy yet staccato. Cécile Aurégan, architect of multiple synths, builds powerful sonic landscapes, layer after layer. Klara Coudrais, the storyteller, elevates her texts with a rich and multifaceted vocal palette, giving life to all their characters, both mythical and ordinary. The band’s writing, between darkness and light, proclaims a visceral poetry, exploring the seasons of the soul with authenticity and strength.

Utter presents Marshall Jefferson's previously unreleased meditation opus 'Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation' alongside two remixes from French production maestro Joakim.

Marshall Jefferson: Chicago House music pioneer, creator of the anthemic ‘Move My Body’, an original collaborator of Adonis, Ce Ce Rogers and Roy Davis Jr., production mastermind of countless dancefloor classics such as Phuture’s ‘Acid Tracks’, Sterling Void’s ’It’s All Right’, Hercules’ ‘7 Ways’… and the soothing voice behind a 36 minute healing meditation guide. Yes, really.

But let’s rewind, slightly.

In 2017, Marshall was approached and encouraged by Ian ‘Snowy’ Snowball to write his autobiography and the pair set about putting Marshall’s account of the history of House music together. The book, ‘Marshall Jefferson: Diary of a DJ’ was published in 2019.

Following the book’s release, Ian and Marshall's collaboration continued and during the pandemic an outlandish idea arose to create a piece of music combining Ian's interest in meditation (he runs Club Chi specialising in Shibashi Qigong - a form of Tai Chi Qigong - which is a gentle form of movement therapy/exercise) and Marshall's willingness to experiment musically to see what might be possible.



The result is ‘Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation’, where Marshall vocalises Ian’s lyrics in his instantly recognisable voice. The keen-eared out there may also recognise aspects of the music itself as a stripped back, lengthened and far mellower version of Marshall’s 1985 obscurity ‘Vibe’:

“I would take tapes to the Music Box and Ron Hardy would play my music. ‘Vibe’ was one of those tracks. I recorded ‘Vibe’ in 1985, but it became one of my tracks that I just forgot about until some guy on Facebook sent me a recording of it that was taken from a club. The only person who I ever gave a recording of ‘Vibe’ to was Ron Hardy. The other people I know who had copies of the track were Gene Hunt and Emanuel Pippin (DJ Spookie).

"The original version of ‘Vibe’ was made using a Roland 707, Roland JX-8P keyboard and a Roland 727 drum machine. I was still working at the Post Office at the time, and this was pre-‘Move Your Body (The House Music Anthem)’. ‘Vibe’ has the building blocks for ‘Move Your Body’ because it was using the instruments on the track that I discovered what I could do with the bass sound, to make a track like ‘Move Your Body’.”



Still, Ian’s initial intention for ‘Yellow Meditation’ was function and it was designed to be a ‘Sequential Relaxation Exercise’ focusing on the Solar Plexus. Bearing this in mind, Marshall took a bare-bones and hypnotic approach to this particular re-recording of ‘Vibe’ so that the voice takes centre stage and listeners (hopefully) find themselves on a meditative journey. In fact, this long-form track was always intended as a private tool purely for meditation at Club Chi rather than released to the public - after all, Marshall had also created and released a more drum heavy, ’traditional’ club-focused 'Vibe Three' instrumental version for that very purpose - but a chance airing of the full 36 minute version changed its path.



Much like those 1985 ‘Vibe’ cassettes, Marshall had sent the track to a few close contacts, one of whom was Kieran at Phonica Records who aired it over the shop’s basement soundsystem. Its unorthodox nature caught the ear of colleague Alex (of Utter) and the seeds of a physical release were planted.

Eventually, with the full-version carefully whittled down to a vinyl friendly length of 24 minutes, full track parts in hand and a b-side to fill, Alex sought out one of his favourite producers to take up the remix reigns: Joakim. The Tigersushi co-founder and Crowdspacer boss has a long history of boundary-pushing remixes that straddle both dancefloor functionality and experimentation. This time the original material resulted in Joakim coming up with a number of ideas and he finally delivered two versions - one club focused (‘Vertical’), the other more introspective and meditative (‘Horizontal’), both of which appear on the final 12”.

The limited edition 12” also includes a download code giving buyers access to all of the vinyl tracks plus an 18 minute extended version of Joakim’s ‘Horizontal’ remix, its instrumental counterpart (for those who can live without Marshall's voice) and full 12 minute acapella (for those who can't!)


Alex

a A1. Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation (Edit) 24:00
b B1. Yellow Meditation For The Dance Generation (Joakim's Vertical Remix) 9:09
9:05

Something most fitting in places like main floor Sunday night at Cocktail D’Amore. Well produced big room sound for DJ use, by DJ turned studio magician Jonathan Kussuma, who’s efforts need little convincing of how effective they might be on a dance floor. 4 masterful exercises in heavy percussive action interlaced with deep industrial sounds and hypontizing synth use, portraying a highly unique aesthetic from the well versed Indonesian producer/DJ.

** Cassette release

""A Synonym for Repetition" weaves together a tapestry of parallels, all intricately linked to Japan. The project initiates with a collaboration with a Tokyo-based musician, which ultimately fails to materialise during Jason Kolar’s recent visit to the country.

From an original approach that has to mutate in its starting phase, the record was conceived from the beginning to embody a sincere homage to Ryuichi Sakamoto, also a Tokyo native. Shaping ideas within the context of a city with a vibrant soundscape, through an exploration where tradition and modernity intersect in an ongoing quest for correspondences.

Yet, the barriers of language and cultural disparity emerge, casting a veil over the perceived connections and rendering them more projection than reality. This dynamic delineates the space observed from an external perspective, perpetually distant from true understanding, framing it in the fields of imagination, both Japan and Sakamoto. Nonetheless, Kolar tries to pay an honest ode to the artist and its scenic background, with all the implications and contradictions of this kind of process, even with the risk of falling into clichés, pastiches, and Eurocentric bias.

Connecting it to ‘vertical listening’ rather than to an obvious tribute exercise, he has morphed his sound to a synthetic and midi approach, aiming to set an ironically fictitious stage, one that resembles something, but it’s not really it."

Subtil Records welcomes newcomer Stoi to the imprint to release his second EP, "No Drugs". This understated (yet powerful) three-track EP embodies Stoi’s signature style — minimalistic arrangements, hypnotic grooves and immersive soundscapes — blurring the lines between dancefloor energy and reflective listening.

"No Drugs (featuring Pae)" (A1), the first track of the EP, clocks at a whooping 10:45 minutes and is a genuine exercise of trance-inducing music. Here, Stoi crafts minimal pulsing beats and intricate modular rhythms, on top of a morphing, massively visceral bass, constantly roaring through the entire track — purpusely making you feel like you are in some kind of altered state of mind. On the B-side, "Ro Id (featuring Cclah)" (B1) brings fresh rhythmic complexity to the EP. Deeply melodic melodies, rich textures and subtle progressions embody a minimalistic charm that unfolds with each beat, making it the most warm and contemplative track on display. The last track of the EP, "Latibulate" (B2), sees Stoi further showcasing his allure for barebones, minimal arrangements where the groove is locked and relentless. And between the wonky bleeps, dissonant melodies and sneaky basslines, there's an undeniably eerie vibe that, through repetition, manages to catch you.

Perfectly suited for both club dancefloors or deep listening sessions, "No Drugs" by Stoi radiates the subtle power that defines minimal techno at its finest, and an essential addition to the Subtil Records catalog.

Ruby Red - Transparent - Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with center hole cut out so label of LP shows through) a black paper inner sleeve and poly bag.

PART ONE’ 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.”


At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.
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. 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.
Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this latest 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 through three separate strata. As with April’s “Part One” and the forthcoming “Part Three”, “Part Two”, 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, “The Hag Of Beara Vs The Poet”’s languid, tribal groove expands into a chromatic wash, like an endless drip of oil spreading out under a midsummer haze.
A filtering of the alpha-state travelogues of its predecessor, “Part Two” reaches even deeper into primal yet pristine states. It journeys from the undulating drone and slow-thawing wonder of “The Falconer”, as if the Myst soundtrack were being broadcast from outer space, through “Damascus”’s perpetual-motion, dreamtime bazaar and “Vapour Phase”s seismograph frequencies measuring supernatural tremors to “The Unjust Incarceration”s distorted bagpipes, sounding a noise-frayed lament
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.

After a short break mezin is back with the 4th record, helmed by Crihan. An Ordinary Family is a special affair, put together over a long period with a special narrative in mind, embodied by 4 pieces representing each of the main characters in F.M. Dostoevski magnum opus (or so we think!) The Brothers Karamazov.

In this exercise of imagination, Alin attempts to push his creative juices to new heights to represent his perception of the novel’s titular actors. From religious themes, distant church bells and organs, yet, a lighthearted Aliosha to the dark reveries and otherworldly echoes of Ivan through to the sheer power and brute force of Dmitri and finally intersecting with sly, slinky but confident Grushenka. An Ordinary Family sets off on an ambitious trip that, we hope, will spark some curiosity for the novel, but we’ll be happy if you keep on dancing, too!

Back in stock soon !

Over the course of her lush, expansive, defiantly sprawling new album, “Sometimes I Might Be Introvert”, released on Age 101, the
Ivor Novelloaward-winning, Mercury nominated Little Simzdelivers an
undeniable modern classic, effortlessly condensing any number of
disparate styles and genres into music which thrillingly broaches the gap between urgent modern treatise and hip hop.

A bold, quantum leap forward from the critically beloved “Grey Area”, this is hardly music aiming simply for the pop charts; rather, it is turbo charged with the kind of fury and potency, confusion and anxiety that make up the modern experience of being Black, British and female at this particular point in time.

This is no mere philosophical exercise, however - the result is her most ambitious and soaring body of work to date, one which operates at the very heights of what rap can be.

If you are into techno, Svreca needs no introduction. This Spanish DJ and producer has been travelling around the world for a while and his label Semantica has earned its place amongst the best cult labels thanks to their support of the vinyl format and investment on incredible artworks. They also have one of the best artists rosters.

Oscar Mulero has released some tracks on Semantica and now it's time for Semantica's boss to release in Warm up... So we are really excited about this!

This release comes in two versions: a four-track EP and a six-track digital release with two
bonus edits by Oscar Mulero.

'Disorder' opens side A. A bleepy, repetitive exercise, with a solid kick and extra high-
frequency analogue percussions and sweeps.
Oscar Mulero's version follows as track A2, adding more pressure to the rhythm, more
atmospheres and some FM synth details, while preserving the original bleep.

The B side starts with 'Overgang'. Once again, an obsessing high-pitched sequence as the
absolute star, plus Svreca's traditionally insane high frequency noises, a concrete kick and
repetition as a formula.

OM's version of 'Overgang': more complex than the original, with 909 hats, more synth lines,
extra bleeps and a dynamic and constantly changing arrangement.

Closing the vinyl release is OM's version of 'Overgang': more complex than the original, with 909 hats, more synth lines, extra bleeps and a dynamic and constantly changing arrangement.

The digital version is completed with two extra versions of 'Overgang': by Oscar Mulero. The
first one, on a more straight techno vibe and trademark sound. The second one has a more
mental approach.

Japanese acid pop outfit Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin channel the globe-trotting spirit of Haruomi Hosono’s 1970s tropical boogie on their debut album, Tradition.

Named after one of the basic rhythms of Cuban folk music and drawing on influences from across the globe, Cho Co Pa Co Cho Co Quin Quin are quite simply a world unto itself.

Comprised of three childhood friends, Daido, Yuta and So, who reconnected during the coronavirus pandemic, Cho Co Pa initially emerged as a playful way for the three 23-year-olds to pass the time. Tapping into their youthful connection, they created a sound that exudes confidence and curiosity, a homage to the masterful world of YMO’s and Happy End’s Haruomi Hosono, rooted in the trio’s own idiosyncratic experience of the present.

Recorded at home and promoted on hugely popular DIY TikTok videos, their debut album Tradition is a technicolour exercise in armchair travelling – a kind of lockdown exotica for the housebound whose nostalgic flights of fancy are laced with a sense of whimsical melancholy for the lost freedoms of youth.

Referencing everything from Afro-Cuban percussion to lo-fi beats, Buddhist spirituality to trap, each member of the band brings different musical inspirations to the table. Latin American and Middle Eastern styles sit adjacent to a fascination for the electronic music of Aphex Twin, Dorian Concept, Underworld and Daft Punk. At times, the music verges on acid pop bliss, at others, it grooves with the instrumental funk sensibility of BADBADNOTGOOD.

“In the first place, when I create a song, my goal is to transport the listener to a mysterious place,” vocalist Daido explained in a recent magazine interview. Using lyrics as another sonic texture in the composition of ideas, Cho Co Pa paint beguiling sonic postcards of far-flung moods across 12 highly original tracks.

Marrying the organic and the electronic on rhythmically sophisticated compositions like ‘Chichibu’ and ‘Watatsumi’, it is on the album’s standout track ‘Gandhara’ that the experimental sound of Cho Co Pa comes to the fore. Referencing the ancient city of Gandhara through which Buddhism made its way from India to China, the track is a vocoder-trap-inspired, Udu drum-driven pop jam that lilts with unmistakable Balearic flair. If that’s difficult to imagine, then know simply that ‘Gandhara’ sounds like nothing else on this side of Saturn. Even Daido seemed surprised by the outcome: “I feel like we were able to create something that exceeded our abilities. That was huge!”

Hugely popular in Japan, with festival appearances lined up alongside BADBADNOTGOOD at Asagiri Jam in October, it's safe to say the success of Tradition has taken Cho Co Pa by surprise. You won’t have heard anything like it."

Clear Vinyl


Her sound remains vast and yearning, with gut-punch drums pushing through explosions of colored powder; her voice is a chrome-plated sigh, and her agile melodies soar effortlessly. - Pitchfork *BEST NEW MUSIC*
she achieves some serious cinematic grandeur. - Stereogum
Simply too sublimely crafted to ignore. - Consequence of Sound
A catchy ethereal piece of pop - Brooklyn Vegan
Rose's layered, reverb-laden vocals hit like waves of sunlight, warming her lines almost to the point of wordlessness. - Paste Magazine


"Hila. A record about loss. What persists beyond the range of ordinary perception? The place mourning keeps returning to - not quite transcendence, not quite doubt. The edge of what we can see."
Frankie Rose has spent fifteen years building one of the most quietly distinctive bodies of work in American independent music. Bursting out of the shackles of her legacy on 2024's Love As Projection, 2026's Hila builds on the muscular, dance-ready songwriting and transcendent melodies to result on Rose's most exploratory and affecting record of her career. Imbued with yearning melodies and brooding post-punk dynamics, Hila is Frankie Rose at her most impressionistic and expansive.

Self-produced at her home studio featuring collaborations with drummer Justin Welch (Elastica/Lush), Hila was recorded following extensive touring with The Jesus & Mary Chain and Swervedriver. The result is the most confident, searching music Rose has produced; muscular in its production yet emotionally vulnerable in its diffracted neon glow. A record informed by loss and the way grief mutates our senses, it's fitting that Rose channels the nuanced darkness of later Coil, at times the pounding EBM-production of Skinny Puppy and the near-spiritual alien-ness of Cocteau Twins. On Hila, the doors of perception are constantly melting, revealing the porous nature of the seen and unseen. The result is a synesthesia that flips the senses.

If Love As Projection was an outward-looking record looking to embrace the world, Hila brings the dark cosmos into inner space. Rose's love for 80s production and soaring melodies remain, they're cornerstones to her craft after all, but there's something more assured and gothic underneath the massive waves of sound. Opener Olo shimmers into a pulsating, cinematic brooder, Rose's vocal transcending and swan diving between registers in the chorus breakdowns. First single Cant Be Wrong serves as a transition from the optimistic pop of Rose's previous album, introducing a thumping 80s funk rhythm track under the soaring vocal performance. The ebullient Shadow Twin is that song's sibling, recalling major label-era Strawberry Switchblade melancholy mixed with Robin Guthrie's twinkling guitar work.

Hila blossoms darkly from here on in, blowing out into a glacial wide-screen sonic dynamic. On Rainman and the title track the listener is transported to a rain-soaked, nocturnal cityscape ridden with desire, moonlight cutting through blinds, intoxicating chasms without bounds. Rose's use of saxophone and digital synthesis recalls the nightmusic of Hats-era Blue Nile or the more ambient end of Emeralds' catalog. Indeed, in the towering synthetic cello sounds that climb into the mind on Hila, there's a distinct flavour of the instrumentals on Bowie's Low. This is musick to play in the dark, to light the way a little, just enough to trick the senses.
Leading into the strobe-filled haze, single Manifest pounds forward with a massive Industrial 4/4 beat and post-punk/goth musicality, an exercise in unlit ecstasy. For Best Of Times, the liberal saxophone passages feel like a suppressed, 80s Michael Mann soundtrack with Frankie Rose's effortless, melodic vocal performance probing, searching for connection. Navigating through the dry, iced landscape into a rising sun, closer Velvet Refrain flips the melancholy of the preceding passages. With a massive sound dripping with harmony, the clanging guitar and vocal duet feels they're sound-tracking an unexpected happy ending after bouts of darkness."

A boundary-pushing musician and multi-media artist from Brooklyn, New York, Frances Chang disrupts accepted reality through her unique and enchanting compositions. Chang’s songs are an exercise in communication, probing the tension between idiosyncratic personal experience and the drive to understand, and be understood, through a collective language.
For “I can feel the waves,” Chang’s new single and debut on RVNG Intl., a piano-centric melody is ornamented with primitive electronics and poetic vocals. The track boldly demonstrates Chang’s strength for unconventional yet contagious songwriting, and pioneers a genre the artist refers to as “slacker prog”: roomy and playful, offbeat and occasionally jarring, brimming with spiritual and emotional resonance.
The b-side, “Marry,” is a rollicking yet laid-back composition, with undaunted wobbly kicks bubbling under pianistic textures until a dialogue, acted out between Chang and Sylvia Gorelick, takes the foreground in the final moments of the track. As the instrumental carries its freewheeling pulse forward, the conversation, inspired by films like Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret and Catherine Breillat’s Fat Girl!, along with Broken Social Scene’s “Anthems for a Seventeen-Year Old Girl,” turns toward the relationship between internal subjectivity and the external necessity of “staying small.”
Where is Frances headed from here? A piano is at the center, synths and strings swelling around its shoulders. A little less tension, a lot more production. Some shadows will be encountered, some forgotten skeletons unearthed. Music excavated from the subtler, deeper layers of cerebral and shared experiences. Music that is truly its own.

I Bet on Sky is the third Dinosaur Jr. album since the original trio – J Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph – reformed in 2005. And, crazily, it marks the band’s 10th studio album since their debut on Homestead Records in 1985. Back in the ‘80s, if anyone has suggested that these guys would be performing and recording at such a high level 27 years later, they would have been laughed out of the tree fort.

The trio has taken everything they’ve learned from the various projects they tackled over the years, and poured it directly into their current mix. J’s guitar approaches some of its most unhinged playing here, but there’s a sense of instrumental control that matches the sweet murk of his vocals (not that he always remembers to exercise control on stage, but that’s another milieu). This is head-bobbing riff-romance at the apex. Lou’s basswork shows a lot more melodicism now as well, although his two songs on I Bet on Sky retain the jagged rhythmic edge that has so often marked his work. And Murph…well, he still pounds the drums as hard and as strong as a pro wrestler, with deceptively simple structures that manage to interweave themselves perfectly with his bandmates’ melodic explosions.


After submerging myself in I Bet on Sky, it’s clear that the album is a true and worthy addition to the Dinosaur Jr. discography. It hews close enough to rock formalism to please the squares. Yet it is brilliantly imprinted with the trio’s magical equation, which is a gift to the rest of us. For a combo that began as anomalous fusion of hardcore punk and pop influences, Dinosaur Jr. have proven themselves to be unlikely masters of the long game.

Gulp Joachim Nordwall’s queasiest, most curdled synth tones on this supremely detuned co-op with Athens’ Stellage crew = 45 minutes of pure nasal-drip tang and gungy pulses tipped FFO Connor Camburn, Wolf Eyes, Conrad Schnitzler, Ilpo Väisänen’s Liima alltimers.

Joachim Nordwall’s 1st solo jaunt since capping the ‘Healing Music’ series in ’23 finds the DIY linchpin and serial collaborator coaxing potently psychoactive tones from an undisclosed set up. It appears to be one of his most intently focussed jags in recent memory, concentrated on juicing a paucity of ingredients for optimal flavour. Nothing that new then? Well, aye, but when he really gets into it, with an effect that really probes parts of the psyche untouched by anything we’ve heard from him before, he produces synaesthetic sounds that frankly makes our ears salivate.

A starting exercise in plucky pulse-work recalling Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe initiates a real descent into the nether regions of Nordwall’s imagination, pulling into sepulchral drone on ‘Trance Recording’ and Droog wet dream material on ‘Abandoned Test Site’, while allowing for some levity in the lacquer-crackling pulse poem ‘Expand Your Mind’. However, he soon pitches back into resonant, metallic sonorities with durational conviction on a ‘Some Skies Overlap’ bringing to mind Connor Camburn works, but with an icier edge, and his title track spews molten drums in a rumbling, spark-spitting torrent.

Proper filth. Snorkel it!

Ever since the late 1950s bossa-nova revolution, Brazil’s influence on French music has been undeniable. Pierre Barouh, Georges Moustaki and a vast array of lesser known artists, all made the Musica Popular Brasileira (MPB) an axis of promotion at the service of a cool and metaphysical, modern and mixed Brazilian lifestyle. Some were seduced by the poetic languors of the bossa, some were looking for fun, and others just loved the American hybridization of jazz-bossa, jazz-samba.



What is bossa nova? One of its creators, Joao Gilberto said: "Its style, cadence, everything is samba. At the very start, we didn't call it bossa nova, we sang a little samba made up of a single note - Samba de uma nota so .... The discussion around the origins of bossa nova is therefore useless”. It is nevertheless useful to remember that these magnificent Brazilian songs, which the guitarist describes as samba, were shifted and balanced around improbable chords. "I like things that lean, the in-betweens that limp with grace," said Pierre Barrouh, quoting Jean Cocteau.



With emotion, arrangements for violin and supple guitar licks, bossa nova rapidly changed. A transformation that can be heard in the Tchic, tchic, French Bossa Nova 1963-1974 compilation, the result of a cultural reappropriation, which traveled through the United States and supplemented itself in France.

A musical revolution that has remained significant, bossa nova was born in Rio. From 1956 to 1961, Brazil lived through its golden years. In five years, the country had invented its modernist style. Elected president in 1956, Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira, an elegant man with a broad forehead, brandished a promising slogan: "Fifty years of progress in five years". He quickly got to work. Not worried about increasing debt, he launched the project for a new federal capital, Brasilia, designed by the communist architect Oscar Niemeyer. Volkswagen opened state-of-the-art factories and created the “fusquinha”, the Beetle. In Rio, the Vespa made its first appearance. The Arpoador Surf Club crew run into the “girl” from Ipanema, Helô Pinheiro - the tanned garota ("chick"), between a flower and mermaid, who at 17 walked by the Veloso bar, where the fiery author and composer, Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, were getting drunk on whiskey. From then on, bossa symbolized cool.

In 1958, Joao Gilberto recorded Chega de Saudade, which the directors of Philips denied, calling it "music for fagots". The marketing director, who believed in it, secretly pressed 3000 78-inch vinyls and distributed them at schools around Rio, creating a tidal wave.

American jazzmen then took over. In particular, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and guitarist Charlie Byrd. In November 1962, the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs funded a "Bossa-Nova" concert at Carnegie Hall in New York, inviting the genre’s pioneers. Unprepared, the show soon turned to disaster. But the troupe was invited to the White House by Jackie Kennedy. The first lady loved "the new beat" and in particular Maria Ninguem, a song by Carlos Lyra, later covered by Brigitte Bardot.

In Brazil, the 1964 military coup quickly ended this euphoria. The destructive atmosphere that ensued pushed many Brazilian musicians to leave, if not to exile. Thus, Tom Jobim, Sergio Mendes and Joao Gilberto arrived to the United States. In New York, Joao Gilberto met saxophonist Stan Getz. At the time, he was married to the Bahianese Astrud Weinert Gilberto, who had a German father. She had never sung before, but she knew how to speak English. Getz therefore asked her to replace her husband on The Girl From Ipanema. The Getz/Gilberto record with Tom Jobim on piano, was released in March 1964. Phil Ramone, the "pope of pop" was in charge of sound.

Bossa nova arrived in Paris through the classic “guitar-voice” channel (Pierre Barouh, Baden Powell, Moustaki…) But France loved jazz and Paris had already welcomed its American contributors. All these good people were to pass through Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The cabaret l'Escale became the Mecca of Latin American sound where one could find Pierre Barrouh and his friends, such as the Camara Trio, samba-jazz aces, whose only record was published by the Saravah label. With a band strangely called Les Masques (a band that included Nicole Croisille and Pierre Vassiliu, among others), the Camara Trio recorded an interesting Brazilian Sound, including the track Il faut tenir which is present on this tasty compilation of rarities.

Other enlightened musicians can also be found on the compilation, such as Jean-Pierre Sabar (songwriter for Hardy, Auffray, Leforestier ...) and the French pop rock organist Balthazar. In 1975, Sabar recorded Aurinkoinen Musiikkimatka on a Finnish label, which featured the crazy Vai, Vai, included on this record. We are now following the footsteps of Brazilian electronic musicians such as Sergio Mendes, Eumir Deodato or Marcos Valle who created funk and disco sounds on their keyboards and synthesizers. A style that influenced Véronique Sanson when she wrote Jusqu’à la Tombée de la nuit in 1969 for Isabelle de Funès, the niece of Louis and a great friend of Michel Berger - Sanson did end up singing this track on her 1992 Sans Regret record.


The pinnacle of exoticism and travel, Sylvia Fels’ Corto Maltese includes bongos, sea mist and ocean sounds. The title was taken from Jacky Chalard’s concept album written in 1974, Je suis vivant, mais j’ai peur (I am alive, but I am scared), based on Gilbert Deflez’s science fiction novel.


However, bossa nova extended the scope of popularity. "In the 1970s, I was a fan of Sergio Mendes, Getz / Gilberto. I fell in love with this music that I knew because I had been an orchestral singer, " explained Isabelle Aubret, who in 1971 delivered a composite record of covers by the very funky Jorge Ben, Orfeu Negro, Tom Jobim, Vinicius de Morais and Jean Ferrat. "I recorded this album for Meys Records in Paris, far from Brazil, with wonderful musicians, François Raubert, Roland Vincent, Alain Goraguer...". The latter wrote the arrangements for Casa Forte, a very percussive title borrowed from Edu Lobo, one of the initiators of the bossa who spent time in California. "Jazz and bossa came together and produced very rhythmic music. I love singing, it allows me to dream, to have fun, to feel a high on stage, and these songs brought me joy, made me swing, my singing felt like a dance.”


The world tours of French singers and their desire for the tropics, often brought them to Rio with its hills, forests, caipirinhas and tanned bodies. There are surprises though, like this Iemenja (Iemenja is the goddess of the sea in the Afro-Brazilian candomblé religion). Not unlike the composer and musician Jean-Pierre Lang, based in Sao Paulo, Claire Chevalier taught Brazil to Brazil. In 1970, the singer and painter published a 45-inch vinyl, Mon mari et mes amants (My husband and my lovers), under the improbable pseudonym of Clarinha (little Claire). She was then living in Rio, with her husband, Joël Leibovitz, who founded a band called Azimuth, and who owned a record label specialized in "sambas enredos" songs for samba school parades.


For its B side, she asked Pierre Perret to come up with lyrics for a song composed by Carlos Imperial: "Oh goddess of the sea, o goddess Iemenja, I bring a white rose to adorn your long hair ..." . "Perret came to see us, and we had fun, remembers Joël Leibovitz. We wrote Lemenja for fun, we recorded it at the Havaí studio, behind the Central do Brasil the central station. Erlon Chaves, the arranger who worked with Elis Regina, joined us" adding his share of Afro-Brazilian percussions and funky brass to the mix.

There is a common misunderstanding in Franco-Brazilian history: that bossa, admittedly hedonistic, is perceived as funny, even though the poets who wrote the texts are often philosophizing on the human condition. Its French interpreters pull it towards a carnival inspired universe, far removed from its fundamental essence. Thus, Jean Constantin covered the famous Samba da minha terra, an ode to the art of samba written by the classic Bahian composer Dorival Caymmi, renaming it with the enticing title of Pas tant de tchi tchi pompon: "On your pier there is no tchi tchi / when you arch your back, you know everything is alright ”(lyrics by Gérard Calvi). This expedited bossa aims for the absurd, but retains a certain elegance.

Indeed, Jean Constantin was not an idiot, the rather large man had a huge mustache and liked fantasy, (Les pantoufles à papa, Le pacha, inspired by cha-cha-cha-cha, salsa and jazz) but he was also the lyricist of Mon manège à moi interpreted by Edith Piaf, the composer of Mon Truc en plume by Zizi Jeanmaire and the soundtrack of François Truffaut’s 400 Blows. Le Poulpe, published in 1970, from which this bossa is extract, was arranged by Jean-Claude Vannier, an accomplice of Serge Gainsbourg’s Melody Nelson. In short: "There is enough of samba / By looking at the parasol / Because my poor cabeza / Is going to die in the sun".

Even the American actress Marpessa Down, who was at the heart of the bossa nova revolution with her role as Euridyce in Marcel Camus’ film Orfeu Negro, winner of the 1959 Cannes Palme d'or, fed the clichée with Je voudrais parler au petit cuica - "Tell me how you manage to always make people want to dance / It's true, I must admit that I cannot resist your magic" - in consequence, once can hear the cuica, a little drum inherited from the Bantu.


But bossa nova had many angles. Societal, of course, pushing actresses who were symbols of women's liberation like Brigitte Bardot, Jeanne Moreau, or Sophia Loren to engage in the exercise of accelerated bossa. In February of 1963, Sophia Loren made a record in French in Rome, Je ne t'aime plus, featuring the song De jour en jour, a bossa written by two Italians, Armando Trovajoli and Tino Fornai, which was released a little later by Barclay. Bossa accompanied the 1960s, a decade of moral liberation. Ann Sorel, who interpreted La Poupée des favellas, caused a sensation with L’amour à plusieurs, a provocative song written by Frédéric Bottom and Jean-Claude Vannier. As for the actress Andrea Parisy, she displayed her bourgeois cheekiness in Marcel Carné's Les Tricheurs before interpreting Les mains qui font du bien. And Magalie Noël, the friend of Boris Vian, who sung Johnny fais-moi mal, was hired to sing Une énorme Samba, composed by Alain Goraguer (arranger to Gainsbourg, Bobby Lapointe and Jean Ferrat) with lyrics by Frédéric Botton.

But in the end, of what wood is bossa nova made of? The answer is given by Christianne Legrand, daughter of Raymond the conductor, and sister to Michel the composer: "With me, with jà" - jà means "immediately" in Portuguese. In 1972, the singer, an expert in vocal jazz and a member of the Double Six, published Le Brésil de Christianne Legrand. Two songs included on the Tchic Tchic compilation that demonstrate how bossa, jazz, funk, rock, etc. work like a swiss army knife: the music is used to denounce broken systems, or miracles, HLM et ciné roman, Cent mille poissons dans ton filet, two songs from the O Cafona soundtrack, a successful telenovela broadcast, at the time in black and white, on TV Globo. The first was adapted in French by the fighter and friend of the Legrand tribe, Agnès Varda. The second is content with a play on words, jostling them into a summer fun.



Véronique Mortaigne

For Record Store Day 2026, Brownswood Recordings mark two decades of boundary-pushing independent music with Twenty Years Deep, a limited-edition 3xLP vinyl compilation celebrating the label’s rich, global catalogue and enduring influence.

Founded in 2006 by broadcaster, DJ, and cultural tastemaker Gilles Peterson, Brownswood has spent the last 20 years championing forward-thinking artists who sit just left of centre: rooted in Afro-diasporic music, but never confined by genre. Twenty Years Deep is a snapshot of that journey: a carefully curated collection spanning the label’s early breakthroughs, cult classics, and defining moments.

Pressed exclusively for Record Store Day on 3 piece coloured vinyl Twenty Years Deep brings together tracks that reflect Brownswood’s long-standing commitment to artistic freedom, musical lineage, and future-facing sounds. From deep jazz explorations and dancefloor mutations to global collaborations and genre-defying hybrids, the compilation captures the connective thread that has defined the label since day one: trust in artists and belief in music that lasts.
Rather than a greatest-hits exercise, Twenty Years Deep functions as an archive and a statement documenting how Brownswood has maintained its own point of view. By following a highly instinctive approach to A&R the label has shaped music culture, introduced new voices, and built a catalogue that continues to resonate well beyond release cycles.

Twenty Years Deep will be available exclusively at participating independent record stores on Record Store Day 2026, pressed as a limited-edition 3 piece vinyl release.

Not all 'All Stars' style releases live up to their name, but this multi-artist extravaganza from Demuir's Purveyor Underground Ltd label most certainly does. The Canadian artist has snapped up tracks from some genuinely impressive deep house talents, with predictably fine results. For proof, check the deliciously dreamy, hazy and rolling opener from Atlanta star Byron The Aquarius, the jazzy bass, locked-in beats and lightly psychedelic layered aural textures of Fred P's 'Sunny Rain Drops (Cosmic House Edit)' and the softened DJ Sneak-style sample-rich peak-time bump of Demuir's own 'Alone In Chicago'. Elsewhere, M Squared reaches for elongated electric piano chords, eyes-closed samples and jazzy house grooves on 'Dance', before Justine Joe delivers an exquisite exercise in jazz-house jauntiness ('AFaOA (As Far As Our Attitude)').

Caterina Barbieri & Bendik Giske's At Source resounds music as wellspring, that which is essential and unknowable, and yet utterly primary. It finds two acclaimed composer-musicians building a world together in self-contained collaboration between analogue synthesis and an extended approach to the saxophone that conjures its own universe of sound. It is at once intimate and cosmic, drawing on the challenges and possibilities of their artistic exchange, tearing down technique to access all the expansive possibilities of their sonic meeting point.



At Source is a document of the world of sound to be conjured when two artists strive for something together, discovering the expansions and limitations of performance by bodies and machines. It is not an exercise in assimilation, but in productive exchange and creative confrontation. It does not draw on outside energies or influences, but grapples with what there is to find in their respective playing. "It also reflects how natural the collaboration was," says Barbieri, "a meeting at the source which was spontaneous, graceful and natural".



Barbieri and Giske first met and were enthralled by one another's performances at Kunsthaus Glarus in 2019, a meeting that spurred conversations on the power of transitions as a compositional force. Giske later contributed a rework of Fantas for Fantas Variations (Editions Mego, 2021), an ambitious undertaking to rescore Barbieri’s work for his saxophone and voice, a challenge Giske had started undertaking two years prior as an ongoing practice of transcription. “The request came as a proof of aligned ideas”, says Giske.



Their new collaborative project then started during an artistic residency in Milan’s ICA in 2021, by invitation of swiss artist and curator Jan Vorisek, as the world was emerging from lockdown. This meeting, and the preceding closure of sites for cultural exchange, made their work together 'feel like springtime' says Barbieri. Giske, who was on the brink of releasing his sophomore album, Cracks, then joined Barbieri's light-years tour, which functioned as an inaugural incarnation of her newborn label and platform through a series of multi-artist curated shows with appearances of Lyra Pramuk, Nkisi, MFO, among other artists.



Through the tour, they continued to develop material live, and this release, laid down in the studio, is true to that ever-evolving process of creation, where live feedback stays essential to the vitality of this collaborative effort. The tracks are each named with two evocative words that contain the two poles of their sound. Theirs is both abstract and cosmic, in the synth as machine undermined by Barbieri's naturalistic playing, and in Giske's continuous exploration of the symbiosis between his instrument, voice, and body. These binaries, of body and machine, posed various challenges, notably in how the stepped patterns Barbieri uses were near-impossible to translate for Giske's body to perform, and other times where mathematical resolutions were needed to sync their playing. Explains Giske: "It forced me to go to the core of what I am and what I have to offer”. Barbieri says that it "explores the liminality between the machine and the human, and the vulnerability in this process".



At Source is testament to two divergent practices finding a whole cosmos in which to convene; music is crystalised and made utterly enveloping through the focused and critical work of two musicians working at their peak. The versions here are, temptingly, "just one of many versions" of this abundant source material Giske explains. Like the best collaborations, At Source is more than the sum of its parts – bringing more to the feast than the simple combination of two musicians, promising versions upon versions of the exquisite material captured here.

After releasing their third album, Maintenant Jamais, and touring in Europe, the United States, Canada, and Mexico in 2025, Population II now announces Gimmicks, a new synthedelic rock EP.
Blending vocal and instrumental tracks, Gimmicks is a companion piece to the Montreal band's latest full-length. It's an extension of the electronic sounds we explored on Maintenant Jamais, with tracks like “13 1 3 1” and “Poudreuse Blues, explains Pierre-Luc Gratton. Even though we added upright piano and fuzz bass to some of the songs, our number one rule for this project was: keyboards and synthesizers, first and foremost! This is why they decided to ditch the guitar completely on these new songs, once again demonstrating the extent of their versatility.
Rhythm-wise, the use of a drum machine allowed the musicians to push their own boundaries and take this exercise in style to a higher level. It made us rethink our rhythmic habits and add bursts of intensity by experimenting with timbres and sound dynamics. The result is an EP at times unsettling, at times dreamy, but perfectly calibrated, where constraint gives way to ingenuity, freedom, and friendship. Although prog and krautrock fans will recognize the influence of Syrinx, Tangerine Dream, and Cluster, Gimmicks is, above all, the affirmation of a band capable of looking back to move forward.

When you name your band Prince Daddy & The Hyena, you sort of accept that chaos isn’t a chapter in your story – it’s the entire ethos. Since forming out of Albany, NY’s DIY scene, Prince Daddy & The Hyena have built a career out of reaching their breaking point and continuing forward anyway. Their first LP, produced by Joe Reinhart, captured a very young band figuring things out in real time; their massive conceptual undertaking Cosmic Thrill Seekers followed and pushed their ambition (and patience) to new extremes. Not long after, a serious van accident nearly took their lives, directly informing the intensity of their self-titled record.

Over the last decade, the band has lost close friends and collaborators, endured relationship struggles, and faced countless moments that would have ended most bands without question. But those experiences never slowed Prince Daddy & The Hyena down. On their upcoming fourth album, Hotwire Trip Switch, they recalibrate and reconnect with their roots while sounding more focused and self-aware than ever. Reuniting with Joe Reinhart for the first time in nearly a decade, the album pulls from the punchy lineage of Green Day, the hook-driven quirk of Weezer, the snarky urgency of Joyce Manor and Jeff Rosenstock – all through the distinctly bratty lens of songwriter and vocalist Kory Gregory.