Suche:space drum meditation

SDM007 comes with four tracks of percussion-heavy, fast tribal grooves, drifting flutes, hypnotic sirens, and mystical soundscapes. Psychedelic, trance-like, in constant ascent, ritualistic, yet made for the dancefloor.

Special thanks to Joern Wilkens for his didgeridoo performance on Yarra.

A scorched expanse, the air thick, sand shifting in slow waves. Didgeridoo rises from the dust, circling in dry spirals. The earth cracks open, voices calling from below. Drums roll, electric currents move like eels. Sunlight bleeds through the haze.
From arid to humid, SDM006 unfolds in four movements-ritualistic, tactile, lost between fire and flood. Percussive, club-ready heat.

Space Drum Meditation unveils Four Tusks, their debut album and seventh re- lease on the label. This 12-track journey blends tribal rhythms, atmospheric textures, and electronic elements, interweaving darkness and light. The album unfolds like a ritual, revealing a murky, immersive soundscape shaped by primal beats, ethereal ambience, rumbling thunder, and the whisper of rain, reminiscent of a primeval marshland and drawing one into its depths. Featuring a wide array of instruments – including deep percussion, traditional flutes, throat singing, and field recordings – Four Tusks crafts a mysterious tapestry that feels both ancient and futuristic, resonating with nature's elements.

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

Dutch electronic maverick Spekki Webu stretches out on an expansive album for new label Outer Orbit Records, exploring his deep and wide-ranging influences across a captivating narrative of tripped-out beatdowns and evocative dreamscapes. Spekki Webu is someone who was naturally drawn into the magnetic pull of Outer Orbit after playing for their sister party Mizz Softee. As the time-travelling album title suggests, it's a meditation on formative sounds that propelled him on to myriad adventures across the many microcosms of electronic music. That means indulging in slower tempos and crooked grooves, with the influence of trip hop and illbient looming large in the boom bap drums that punctuate many of the album's passages. There is also space for immersive techno that operates as a lighter reflection of the sound he is best known for, as well as hints of buoyant house music, rolling breakbeat, dislocated ambient and intricate electronica. Cari Lekebusch, a key influence, contributes a rolling, heavy-grooving remix that closes out the record.

The long-overdue revival of Bim Sherman’s catalog begins here. These essential recordings will become widely available again for the first time in decades, opening a new chapter in the appreciation of one of Jamaica’s most distinctive voices and representing a major moment for reggae and dub aficionados around the world. This reissue series will not only preserve his legacy but will also offer listeners the chance to experience the depth and timeless resonance of Sherman’s work in its full glory.

Bim Sherman—born Jarret Lloyd Vincent, in Westmoreland, Jamaica—holds a unique place in reggae history. Emerging in the mid 70s, his ethereal, haunting vocal style quickly set him apart from his contemporaries. He was soon collaborating with the top producers and musicians of the era, including Adrian Sherwood and the On-U Sound collective, bridging the gap between roots reggae and experimental dub and laying the groundwork for the fusion of Jamaican sounds with the vibrant underground scene in the UK. His career, from Kingston to London to Mumbai, was marked by an artistic daring and spiritual intensity that has earned him enduring respect across generations.

The centerpiece of this reissue campaign is Ghetto Dub from 1988, a record that distills Sherman’s artistry into its most potent form. Originally released in a limited number, the album embodies the stark yet soulful beauty of dub production. With its reverb-drenched drums, cavernous basslines, and echo-laden atmospherics, Ghetto Dub transforms Sherman’s various tracks into spectral presences that drift in and out of the mix. The arrangement and production—minimal yet profoundly textured—captures both the raw urgency of Jamaican street culture and the forward-looking experimentation of the UK dub scene. Each track unfolds like a meditation, balancing grit with grace, density with space. Ghetto Dub is more than an album; it is an immersive soundscape that reaffirms Bim Sherman as one of reggae’s most otherworldly and visionary figures.

Nach der Veröffentlichung von „idea 1“, kündigt Kelela ihr neues, drittes Album an, das am 10. Juli bei Warp Records erscheint – und veröffentlicht die zweite Single „linknb“, produziert von Oscar Scheller.

Der Track entstand in einer Phase der Schreibblockade und begann als Mantra, das Kelela schrieb, um sich wieder an die Arbeit zu bringen. Angeführt von einem labyrinthischen Gitarrenriff über treibenden Metal-Drums ist „linknb“ ein Song über Selbstvertrauen, das man sich durch Schwierigkeiten erarbeitet hat, darüber, sich nicht klein machen zu lassen. „Es ist nicht schwer, mutig zu sein / Es ist leichter, zu viel preiszugeben / Ich weiß nur, dass ich den Weg geebnet habe, unterbezahlt.“

Das von Mischa Notcutt inszenierte Video versetzt Kelela in die Mitte einer urbanen Traumlandschaft. Als enger Freund und Kelelas ehemaliger Kreativdirektor war Notcutt die naheliegende Wahl. Das Video lässt Realismus und Abstraktion ineinanderfließen und verwandelt eine einsame Reise in eine Meditation über Selbstfindung und Erneuerung.

Mit „new avatar“ rückt alles, worauf Kelela hingearbeitet hat, in den Fokus. Sie begann ihre ersten Songs in der Indie-Szene von Washington, D.C. zu schreiben, bevor die Clubmusik und die elektronische Produktion, die ihre frühe Karriere prägten, die Oberhand gewannen. Mit „new avatar“ schließt sie den Kreis: R&B, unterlegt mit verzerrten Gitarrenklängen, trifft auf neue Schnittstellen in der Tanzmusik und gipfelt in einem Sound, der aus all den musikalischen Einflüssen schöpft, die sie je geprägt haben. Das Album enthält zudem Kollaborationen mit PinkPantheress, A. K. Paul und Fousheé.

„Dieses Album findet Trost in der Konfrontation“, sagt Kelela. „Ich möchte nicht, dass die Musik von dem ablenkt, was wirklich in der Welt vor sich geht; ich möchte, dass sie in dieser verrückten Zeit Sinn ergibt und den Menschen gleichzeitig hilft, mit der Schönheit und Freude in Kontakt zu kommen, die sie ebenfalls erleben.“

Das Album setzt sich mit einer Welt auseinander, die aus allen Nähten auseinanderfällt, und mit der Klarheit, die das Überleben erfordert.

„Die Leute sollten auch wissen, dass meine Freunde und ich ständig lachen und dass Humor kein Abwehrmechanismus ist; er ist Ausdruck dafür, wie scharfsinnig wir die Dinge einschätzen und wie klar wir die Welt sehen.“

Im Kern schildert „new avatar“ eine vielschichtige Erfahrung, und obwohl die Außenwelt präsent ist, schwächt sie Kelelas Entschlossenheit zu keinem Zeitpunkt.

About Kelela: Throughout her globally revered, boundary-pushing career, Kelela has established a lane of her own in R&B and electronic music. On her long-awaited third album, new avatar, the singer/songwriter (through the versatility of the guitar) challenges perceptions of these genres, while weaving together fragments of lived experiences to shape a world of connection and resilience during times of unrest.

The songs journey through Black femme rage, joy as resistance, Gotham City-esque dystopia, misogynoir, romantic tension, and more. It’s anchored by production that demands a broader rethink about alternative, rock and indie music.

Kelela’s defiant nature has propelled her so far already — from her hometown of Washington, D.C to world stages. In 2013, she released her debut mixtape, Cut 4 Me. She continued solidifying her revolutionary R&B sound with 2015’s Hallucinogen EP, with The New York Times naming its single, “Rewind,” one of the “25 Songs That Tell Us Where Music Is Going”. By 2017, she released her electric debut album Take Me Apart (which was followed by 2018’s TAKE ME A_PART, THE REMIXES), building upon her intimate storytelling.

After a nearly five-year hiatus, she returned in 2023 with her groundbreaking second album, Raven, and its critically-acclaimed counterpart, RAVE:N, The Remixes in 2024. Raven has been hailed as one of the ‘Best Albums of 2023’ by Pitchfork, Billboard, Vulture, Variety, and more, while the remixes solidified her as a leader in the dance music space.

In 2025, Kelela showcased yet another innovative side of her artistry with her live album In The Blue Light, which hit #5 on the Contemporary Jazz chart and #20 on the Jazz Albums chart. Now, with new avatar, Kelela displays the masterful intention she puts into forming new sonic cityscapes. But don’t confuse it with escapism: “I don't want the music to be a distraction from what's really going on in the world; I want it to help you get into it.”

Nach der Veröffentlichung von „idea 1“, kündigt Kelela ihr neues, drittes Album an, das am 10. Juli bei Warp Records erscheint – und veröffentlicht die zweite Single „linknb“, produziert von Oscar Scheller.

Der Track entstand in einer Phase der Schreibblockade und begann als Mantra, das Kelela schrieb, um sich wieder an die Arbeit zu bringen. Angeführt von einem labyrinthischen Gitarrenriff über treibenden Metal-Drums ist „linknb“ ein Song über Selbstvertrauen, das man sich durch Schwierigkeiten erarbeitet hat, darüber, sich nicht klein machen zu lassen. „Es ist nicht schwer, mutig zu sein / Es ist leichter, zu viel preiszugeben / Ich weiß nur, dass ich den Weg geebnet habe, unterbezahlt.“

Das von Mischa Notcutt inszenierte Video versetzt Kelela in die Mitte einer urbanen Traumlandschaft. Als enger Freund und Kelelas ehemaliger Kreativdirektor war Notcutt die naheliegende Wahl. Das Video lässt Realismus und Abstraktion ineinanderfließen und verwandelt eine einsame Reise in eine Meditation über Selbstfindung und Erneuerung.

Mit „new avatar“ rückt alles, worauf Kelela hingearbeitet hat, in den Fokus. Sie begann ihre ersten Songs in der Indie-Szene von Washington, D.C. zu schreiben, bevor die Clubmusik und die elektronische Produktion, die ihre frühe Karriere prägten, die Oberhand gewannen. Mit „new avatar“ schließt sie den Kreis: R&B, unterlegt mit verzerrten Gitarrenklängen, trifft auf neue Schnittstellen in der Tanzmusik und gipfelt in einem Sound, der aus all den musikalischen Einflüssen schöpft, die sie je geprägt haben. Das Album enthält zudem Kollaborationen mit PinkPantheress, A. K. Paul und Fousheé.

„Dieses Album findet Trost in der Konfrontation“, sagt Kelela. „Ich möchte nicht, dass die Musik von dem ablenkt, was wirklich in der Welt vor sich geht; ich möchte, dass sie in dieser verrückten Zeit Sinn ergibt und den Menschen gleichzeitig hilft, mit der Schönheit und Freude in Kontakt zu kommen, die sie ebenfalls erleben.“

Das Album setzt sich mit einer Welt auseinander, die aus allen Nähten auseinanderfällt, und mit der Klarheit, die das Überleben erfordert.

„Die Leute sollten auch wissen, dass meine Freunde und ich ständig lachen und dass Humor kein Abwehrmechanismus ist; er ist Ausdruck dafür, wie scharfsinnig wir die Dinge einschätzen und wie klar wir die Welt sehen.“

Im Kern schildert „new avatar“ eine vielschichtige Erfahrung, und obwohl die Außenwelt präsent ist, schwächt sie Kelelas Entschlossenheit zu keinem Zeitpunkt.

About Kelela: Throughout her globally revered, boundary-pushing career, Kelela has established a lane of her own in R&B and electronic music. On her long-awaited third album, new avatar, the singer/songwriter (through the versatility of the guitar) challenges perceptions of these genres, while weaving together fragments of lived experiences to shape a world of connection and resilience during times of unrest.

The songs journey through Black femme rage, joy as resistance, Gotham City-esque dystopia, misogynoir, romantic tension, and more. It’s anchored by production that demands a broader rethink about alternative, rock and indie music.

Kelela’s defiant nature has propelled her so far already — from her hometown of Washington, D.C to world stages. In 2013, she released her debut mixtape, Cut 4 Me. She continued solidifying her revolutionary R&B sound with 2015’s Hallucinogen EP, with The New York Times naming its single, “Rewind,” one of the “25 Songs That Tell Us Where Music Is Going”. By 2017, she released her electric debut album Take Me Apart (which was followed by 2018’s TAKE ME A_PART, THE REMIXES), building upon her intimate storytelling.

After a nearly five-year hiatus, she returned in 2023 with her groundbreaking second album, Raven, and its critically-acclaimed counterpart, RAVE:N, The Remixes in 2024. Raven has been hailed as one of the ‘Best Albums of 2023’ by Pitchfork, Billboard, Vulture, Variety, and more, while the remixes solidified her as a leader in the dance music space.

In 2025, Kelela showcased yet another innovative side of her artistry with her live album In The Blue Light, which hit #5 on the Contemporary Jazz chart and #20 on the Jazz Albums chart. Now, with new avatar, Kelela displays the masterful intention she puts into forming new sonic cityscapes. But don’t confuse it with escapism: “I don't want the music to be a distraction from what's really going on in the world; I want it to help you get into it.”

Slowly yet firmly blooming into focus, An Unfinished Rose is the new album from Australian duo Troth.

This is their first since relocating to Hobart, Tasmania and their introduction to Night School Records. With a detailed web of past releases on labels A Colourful Storm, Mammas Mysteriska Jukebox, Knekelhuis and Bowman’s own Altered States Tapes imprint, An Unfinished Rose is the group’s most realised and composed work thus far. While still drawing on the improvisatory and DIY practices that informed Troth’s beginnings, it points to a new incarnation of the duo’s music; an intentional language emerging from the fog of obfuscation and mists of uncertainty.

Over these 9 meditations on change, acceptance, renewal and rebirth, An Unfinished Rose finds Amelia Besseny and Cooper Bowman peeling back some of the roughhewn architecture that defined their earlier releases to reveal a masterful - if auto-didactic - use of space and melody. Composition and improvisation compliment and feed each other throughout, with locked-loop earworms providing the springboard for lines of clarinet or synth melody, and the negative space between chord clusters giving ample room for Besseny’s most confident vocal performances to date. Shaving off a little of the defining dissonance and tape compression of old reveals Troth’s music in radiant daylight, humbly accepting of its place in the world while yearning for better, more sympathetic modes of living. Leaning more heavily on acoustic instrumentation and post-production processes than previously, the result is a transcendent body of work infused with an almost zen-like presence.

Troth’s music exists in the border between forming and becoming, its goal to project a kind of preternatural beauty, leaving interpretation open to the listener. Field recordings, happenstance and improvisation may provide seeds for the duo’s compositions, particularly on Side A, but there is a deft touch of songcraft on show. Loam Loom Leaf Litter opens An Unfinished Rose, directly referencing natural cycles of life, death and regeneration, before the blissed-out drum machine groove of Gold Plum continues a discussion concerning the totality of nature and one’s place in it. Besseny’s vocal, swelling like an ocean churn in duet with itself is adorned with synthesised harp and a revolving synth pattern, conjuring plumes of medieval smoke. Thistle’s rounded, bass-heavy drums, nodding to the vast echo of dub, is a relatively new terrain for Troth. It’s propulsive and thumping, pulsing with a meaning and symbolism consistent with Troth’s past work, referenced overtly in Bessey’s lyrics - “Say it too much and it loses its meaning…”. Similarly, the sprawling modern-classical suite, Tides Reflected In Her Eyes, is intentional in its lyrical themes while traversing new ground, revelling in layers of bowed cello and vocal intonations. Side B’s 4 tracks feel like Troth’s most thoroughly accessible and affecting music to date. Leaning into their own detoured version of Synth Pop, Cocoonist explores downtempoisms via a crunchy low frequency synth, and dream-like, fuzzy trip-hop modalities, not unlike Besseny and Bowman’s other group, Th Blisks. Following on, Myrtle Mystes is an open and searching DIY pop song, forged out of drum machine, bass guitar and cello. (An) Unfinished Rose’s title-track is a clear stand-out, built upon an evocative rhythm sample that appears to change emotional resonance with each undulating repetition. Its cascading waves of affect, interjected with a subtle breeze of synth, bowed instrumentation and soaring, densely-layered vocals.

An Unfinished Rose is enveloping, warm, forgiving. Difficult, yet retaining a unique beauty. Troth’s music aims to celebrate the duo;s shared experiences of being in the world, despite the complexity often surrounding us all. Theirs is a message of hope and perseverance, learning and patience.

Glenn Astro leans into the twilight months of 2024 with a new album from his Delta Rain Dance project. Divining fourth world sensibilities from his restlessly curious studio workflow, Astro weaves a mesmerising tapestry of sound on Music For Autumn which treads the line between horizontal meditation and head- nodding, backroom-ready groove.

Amongst his constellation of myriad aliases, Delta Rain Dance spells out the inspiration Astro takes from fourth world pioneer Jon Hassell. The project first surfaced with a string of tapes, LPs and digital releases around 2018, all carried on a label of the same name to keep Delta Rain Dance enclosed in its own space
independent of Astro's many other musical endeavours.

"I’m really into the world building aspect in science fiction and fantasy," says Astro. "This is my way of creating worlds and spaces that co-exist next to each other. Sometimes they collide but mostly they exist peacefully next to each other or pursue some form of cultural exchange by collaborating with each other."

There's a strong sense of balance and cohesion throughout Music For Autumn, as organic percussion and instrumentation wraps around delicate synthesis and patient drum machine pulses so naturally it's hard to spot the joins. The sound has plenty of room to stretch out, from the mantra-like chimes and rattles of the album opener 'Green Light Fade' to the luxury funk of 'Mmmh, Nice' (featuring fellow Tartelet alumni Nelson of the East). At times the electronic elements seem to entirely dissolve, not least behind the loping strings and tumbledown percussion of 'Second Sleep', while achingly beautiful closer 'Plucked' centres on the fluttering movement and expression Astro elicits from his modular setup.

True to the project's influences, a consistent ambiguous mood lingers in the air over Music For Autumn somewhere between far- flung mystery and comforting familiarity, reliably calm but equally contemplative. It's an odyssey of serenity with enough nuance to make you really think, perfect for the days getting shorter, leaves crunching underfoot and the last fading rays of warmth from the sun.

Chris Menist pares his sound right back for A book of imaginary beings, his fourth Awkward Corners outing with a project of electronic and abstracted global grooves. Experimenting with simple melodies and uncluttered arrangements, as well as taking inspiration from the Borges' short stories alluded to in the title, the project took shape in the early part of 2025, in the shorter days and dark evenings of January.

The initial challenge was to knock a basic track into shape each evening after work, then refine it later. There's a melancholy in the air in late winter, compounded by the creeping threat of national and geopolitical instability. Ulla, Natural Information Society, Jabu, Torso and Dawuna formed some of the background soundtrack as each tune took shape.

The track titles came after sitting with the sounds for a while, giving shape to images of people, creatures and their stories for a book that is yet to be written.

Two former friends sets the tone for the album perfectly as a minimal electronic piece with a slowly simmering synth bassline underpinning the groove whilst the trademark Awkward sound of the Shahi Baaja enters drenched in effects. It's the first demonstration of Chris' unique ability to create a world from apparently very little.

Dance of the silver beetles is completely unique in that we can hear chopped up Illimba samples seemingly playing backwards and forewords sometimes alone, sometimes together in duet with Chris' conga rhythms. Add to that a more conventional Illimba melody and added shaker percussion and you have one of A book of imaginary beings most curious chapters.

Anxious shadow puppets is closer to the Awkward Corners sound from previous albums as electronic pulses move around the arrangement with the urgency that the track title suggests. Chris' percussive roots move to the fore with the congas that tie down the Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band's sound. Here, the bassline is more playful and works together with one of Chris' many African Illimbas.

Fans of Chris' adventures on his Roland 808 will dig A leopard with no spots, although the minimal mood continues to flow through on this track. The lolloping, but hard-hitting rhythm track provides the grounding for strange and twisting feedback-sounding tones to work the soundscape.

Abandoned boy (left in charge of the family business) is Awkward Corners at his atmospheric best. Drift off to the sublime sounds of Chris exploring the Shahi Baaja, whilst a soft, repetitive synth line and abstracted pads give the listener that feeling of meditation and peace.

Flamingo with bandaged neck is A book of imaginary beings' perfect coda and is exclusively Shahi Baaja draped in reverbs and delays. It feels like the resolution and the closing of a book that – as of yet – remains unwritten.

Awkward Corners is Chris Menist, a musician, DJ and writer. It started life as a small project in Islamabad, where Chris was living at the time. Initial recordings were made with local musicians in Pakistan and then subsequently in Thailand. This culminated in the Sweet Decay LP that came out on Finders Keepers' Disposable Music in 2014, and in turn led to a limited tape release on Boomkat/Reel Torque of original compositions and re-edits of Thai 45s the same year. Chris released – Dislocation Songs – his second LP proper with Shapes of Rhythm in May 2020, collaborating on many of the tracks with award-winning performer Sarathy Korwar. The LP was picked up by many radio stations including NTS, Resonance FM, BBC 6 Music, Balamii and many more. It made Tom Ravenscroft's LPs of 2020. Amateur Dramatics, Chris' second LP arrived just a year later in 2021 and was a more ambitious project featuring more jazz-focussed compositions and featuring Tamar Osborn and Kitty Whitelaw. Shortly after that came another pivot with the heavier, dancefloor-friendly EP Somebody Somewhere. Somebody Somewhere is Dancing in a Field brought the House (yes House!) vibes, whilst Hector Plimmer turned in a remix of No Words in the same club mood.

As one of NTS Radio's longest-standing presenters, Chris continues to hold down the Paradise Bangkok show. Playing drums and percussion since he was a kid, Chris is the percussionist for The Paradise Bangkok Molam International Band as well as co-founding the record label of the same name. Chris has curated compilations for labels such as Finders Keepers, Soundway and Dust-To-Digital. He has been featured on the Boiler Room, Vinyl Factory Collections, played at the Four Tet curated Nuits Sonores festival, and has put together an edition of Volumes which featured unreleased Awkward Corners compositions.






[d] 04: All the Goodbyes (You Tried to Defer) [Original]





[j] 10: Abandoned Boy (Left in Charge of the Family Business) [Original]

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

STANDFIRST Titanic, the project spearheaded by Mabe Fratti and Hector Tosta (aka I. la Católica), return with a sumptuous and life-affirming new album.



In her sensational 1929 biography Tiger Woman, dancer and socialite Betty May claimed her ‘coster’s eye’ meant she liked to wear as many colours as possible. “Colours to me are like children to a loving mother. Each is my favourite, yet I can never bring myself to deny the others by preferring one.” May’s bold and inclusive strategy is one that manages to transfer itself, almost a century later, to Hagen, the new record by Titanic.


Many will know Titanic as the Mexico City-based brainchild of cellist and singer Mabe Fratti and multiinstrumentalist Hector Tosta who is now operating under the pseudonym, I. la Católica, (taken, rather unusually, from the name of the street the pair live on). With Hagen, and their previous release, Vidrio, (2023), the pair are creating a distinctive signature sound in modern alternative pop music. Nobody else sounds quite like them. Both records have an open hearted nature and simple, winning melodies that play off against a taste for drama, spectacular orchestration and a feeling of otherworldly mystery. Hagen is the more ambitious, sometimes more mystical effort. From the opening handclaps of ‘Lágrima del Sol’, (a wonderfully uptempo playground chant translating as a tear from the sun but, surely, not referencing the brand of pineapple wine?), the record dances its way through various mid-to-late-eighties inspirations, lush and widescreen passages of melancholy and vertiginous contrasts.


Mystery is often found in the simple but slightly odd song titles. English translations of various track titles give, ‘you swallowed the gum’, ‘leak’, ‘a tear from the sun’, ‘raising the trophy’ ‘digging dimensions’, ‘the owner’, ‘the decapitated hen’ and ‘the trap is exposed’. All denote striking images, metaphysical hints and emotional cues or simple, even childlike actions. Though Fratti and Tosta don’t reveal its provenance, the album’s title could even be a crafty play on words: the listener would be forgiven in thinking the moments of brash contrast and eyebrow raising theatricalism in the music constitute a musical nod to German punk chanteuse, Nina Hagen.


On Hagen, singer and cellist Mabe Fratti once again displays her brilliant knack of speaking to us directly. There is never the suspicion of her playing to the gallery, and the directness of many of the lyrics don’t allow it. Parallel to this, Fratti has an almost magical ability to give Hector Tosta’s melodies, and her and Tosta’s lyrics ones imbued with an insight and meaning that feels otherworldly. Tosta admitted it was “pretty wild to hear Mabe take the interpretations to a different place” and the listener can pick up on the delight Fratti takes in (literally) adding a voice to the many narratives.


Two examples can be shown here: ‘Gotera’ (Leak) uses harsh slashes of cello and tough, gunfire-like guitars and drums and multiple vocal lines that could be acting as a Greek chorus. They play off brilliantly against Fratti’s soft, slightly baleful vocal take that delivers lyrics such as: ‘nobody knows where the leak is / but I know where it is / they fight in front of the door and / nobody can go in’. With ‘La Gallina Degollada’ the somewhat blithe melody melody line, sung with what could be sarcastic brio by Fratti, plays against an itchting rhythm and rasping guitar part. The punch comes when you see that the song is about a chicken that has been decapitated and read lyrics such as: ‘I already saw it, it moved, the decapitated chicken’ / ‘could it be that I'm broken’ and ‘Two people hurt each other by thinking that they no longer agree’/ ‘Hours pass and the chicken represents what scares me’.


There may be death and fights to deal with, but there is also a quality of chirpy self-reliance about Hagen that is a key part of its nature. Like Betty May and her colourful outfits, Hagen’s sound often revels in its own sense of richness. Throughout, the record delivers vaulting string sections or glutinous guitar squeals that could, like the powerful, driving ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ (Digging Dimensions) have come directly from a glossy 1980s TV series. Fratti sees this “glam sound” developed by Tosta on the aforementioned track and ‘Te Tragaste el Chicle’ (You Swallowed The Gum), as moments that were truly “revealing” for the album as a whole during its making.


What else? The thud and thump of ‘La Trampa Sale’ (The Trap is Exposed), and its sudden change of tempo and mood betrays a monstrously ambitious piece of music, the players almost greedily creating the sounds. Other moments are heart wrenching: ‘Libra’ ends on a poppy chord switch that cleverly ramps up the emotion inherent in the music’s notation. You could almost imagine a teenager in a bedroom forty years ago, rewinding the track over and over on a small, cheap cassette player, unable to get enough of that sugarsweet switch. Elsewhere, Oneohtrix Point Never adds stardust and an unearthly sense of space on the changeable, slightly moody meditation, ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ (Firebird). The record ends with ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ (Lifting the Trophy), a track that could soundtrack a state wedding, what with its beautiful cascading piano parts, a sugary vocal and short triumphal guitar riffs that add a rich patina to the overall sound. Fratti: “When I doubled those vocals on ‘Alzando el Trofeo’ I felt there was an epiphany happening, right at that moment.”


Making a good record is a team game. Tosta and Fratti recall seeing Randall from Circular Ruin Studios in NYC “tweak the drums in ‘Libra’ to make that amazing effect of the gated reverb”, or the shaping of ‘Gotera’, “when (recording engineer) Nate Salon added some synths to the track.” Drummer Eli Keszler, “an amazing and versatile player” had the songs down pat in a couple of days” and, according to Tosta, Oneohtrix Point Never “just came to one of the sessions and we hung out, and after all the recordings he and Nate were together in some studio and out of nowhere they sent us some beautiful tracks for ‘Pájaro de Fuego’! Fratti concurs. “He decided that he wanted to record because he was listening to the record (Nate works closely with him) and he really liked it! It was a total honour, indeed!”


Bedazzled by the playing, the skyscraping ambition in the arrangements and the giddy moments of contrast thrown up by Hagen, we could allow ourselves a brief moment of flippancy and state that Titanic’s new record is Yacht Rock meets Aeschylus, full-on. It’s also worth speculating that, in this hyper-sensitive, intemperate age, Titanic’s music has the power, however fleetingly, to heal hurts. Hagen is a brilliant showcase for a fresh and enriching form of pop music: displaying a magpie eye for what glints and plundering what has gone before.


Like Vidrio, Hagen was partially and additionally recorded at Fratti and Tosta’s house, aka Tinho Studios in Mexico City, as well as Golden Girl Studios & Circular Ruin Studios in New York City. Mixing was done by Santiago Parra in Pedro y el Lobo Studios, Mexico City and mastered by Rafael Anton Irisarri at Black Knoll Studios, New York City. The recording engineer was Nate Salon.


Hagen featured Mabe Fratti on cello, vocals & backing vocals, I. la Católica on guitar, keyboards, prepared piano, bass & backing vocals, drums by Eli Keszler and synths in ‘Pájaro de Fuego’ from Daniel Lopatin and Nate Salon.


All compositions on Hagen are written by I. la Católica, except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were composed by I. la Católica and Mabe Fratti. The record was produced by I. la Católica and co-produced by Nate Salon & Mabe Fratti. And all lyrics are by I. la Católica except ‘Escarbo Dimensiones’, ‘Gotera’, ‘Gallina degollada’ & ‘Pájaro de Fuego’, which were written by I. la Católica & Mabe Fratti.

For their inaugural release, London-based Vysyon presents Mercuri: an enchanting EP of enigmatic techno featuring work by Swiss artists Varuna & Mateo Hurtado. Having developed their brand of abyssal club music through releases on Amenthia Recordings & their own imprint A Walking Contradiction, Varuna dive into the void on 'Remote Pulsar'. Driven by a disorientating polyrhythm cloaked in opaque atmospherics, the trio's otherworldly approach to sound design is on full display. By contrast, the pounding 4/4 kick & propulsive acid bass of 'Uvez Echos' entrance the listener into a state of dancefloor reverie. Mateo Hurtado casts his own unique magic over the flip, showcasing his archetypal mystic sound established via an album on Annulled music & remixes for Space Drum Meditation. The mesmerising flute melody of 'An Invisible Fire, Working In Secret' casts a spell of hypnosis, while the flowing, amorphous pads & twisted bass of 'The Eternal Mirror' conjure visions of worlds unknown.

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

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

Emerging from the fertile chaos of Düsseldorf’s Salon des Amateurs scene, Sequence of Events, the collaborative project of Deniz Saridas and Joshua Gottmanns, presents The Art of Memory, an album that feels both intimate and ungraspable, like recalling a dream that fades upon waking.

Rooted in the post-industrial landscapes of West Germany, The Art of Memory channels the bleak resilience of these environments into its sound. It’s a collage of kraut-infused electronics, shoegaze textures, and industrial pulses, filtered through a lens of introspective psychedelia. “We don’t consciously break down or combine genres,” they explain. “Everything is interwoven, like chemistry. Some reactions happen immediately, others take years under pressure.”

From the opening track TAR, with its stoic vocals and drum-heavy propulsion, to the robotic Meagre Gardens, where autotuned chants coil around unconventional drum programming, the album moves like a fever dream through fragmented memories. Soul Divider unfolds like a cinematic journey through yearning and desire, its repetitive pulses echoing the ache of unfulfilled longing, while Nature Hates Life distills pop music through the eyes of a killjoy: “Kurt Cobain on an AKAI MPC2000,” as the band describes it. Even moments of tenderness, like the drifting Becomings, shimmer with absolute sensuality: a seductive exploration of presence defined by absence. We lift each other up and hold each other down.

The creative process behind The Art of Memory is as fluid as the music itself. Saridas and Gottmanns, both self-taught musicians with backgrounds in fine art, worked intuitively, drawing from a shared pool of samples, text fragments, and images. Operating somewhere in the space between fin de siècle aesthetics and occultism, it’s a dream wedding with a continuous stream of meaningless (moving) images generated by human and non-human entities.

Ultimately, The Art of Memory is not an escape but an immersion. A meditation on the sensory overload of the present and the ghosts it leaves in its wake. In a world where music is often reduced to background noise for consumption, Sequence of Events offers something more elusive: a record that lingers, unsettles, and demands to be remembered.

Movement and Soul Records is the highly-anticipated imprint, founded by Nonna Fab...

The label aims to capture deeper sounds and meditations in rhythm, spanning spiritual jazz, broken-beat and deeper house.
Nature is Enlightenment is the debut release on the label. With flute, keys, bass and drums from Nonna Fab and saxophonefrom Benjamin Ten-Bruggencate.

The B1, 'TROPIC' invites Kali, lyricist, poet and azz influenced vocalist from Sheffield, accompanied on piano/rhodes by Nonna Fab.

The broken-beat focussed B2,'FLOAT' featuring bassist Tom French and an opening poem, that touches on thecosmos, by Kali.

Multi-instrumentalist, producer, band leader, record collector and party'starter, Nonna Fab has launched the label as a platform to push the sound of his own music, working closely with a range of musicians from the North.

"It's come at the right time for me to allow a space to push a very new, organic sound working with a lot of the musicians I play with regularly, interweaving the sound with dance music."

Nonna Fab is behind audiophile party, Apricot Ballroom, which was named in the top 10 nights in the country in TimeOut Magazine as well as being acknowledged for being a pioneer of northern contemporary jazz by BBC for Footprints. As well as this, Nonna Fab is co-owner of Grub Records, which has been written about in DJMag, Mixmag and Resident Advisor.

"The label is a true hybrid of both live sound and electronic dance music and really allows focus on true communication and expression. I have always appreciated more free-form styles of dance music so it really is a space for me to explore the more expressive andspiritual side of my sound"

Repress of 2018’s classic compilation from Brownswood.

A primer on London’s bright-burning young jazz scene, this new compilation brings together a collection of some of its sharpest talents. A set of nine newly-recorded tracks, We Out Here captures a moment where genre markers matter less than raw, focused energy. Looking at the album’s running order, it could easily serve as a name-checking exercise for some of London’s most-tipped and hardworking bands of the past couple of years. Recorded across three long, fruitful days in a North West London studio, the crossover between each of the groups speaks to the close-knit circles which make up the scene.

Surveying the way that London’s jazz-influenced music had spread outside of its usual spaces in recent years, this album bottles up some of the vital ideas emanating from that burgeoning movement. Giving a platform to a scene where mutual cooperation and a DIY spirit are second-nature, it’s a window into the wide-eyed future of London’s musical underground.

Ubiquitous, much-lauded saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings is the project’s musical director. His own recent projects span from South Africa-connected, spiritually-minded jazz players Shabaka and the Ancestors to Sons of Kemet, who match diasporically-connected compositions with viscerally-direct live shows. His entry on the album, ‘Black Skin, Black Masks’, is typically difficult-to-define: with an off-kilter, shifting rhythmic backbone, repeated phrases – mirrored between clarinet and bass clarinet – shape the track with an alluring hue. His input ties together a deft, genre-agnostic sensibility that’s shared through all the players on the record.

Theon Cross – who’s also part of Sons of Kemet with Hutchings – starts his track, ‘Brockley’, with the solo, distinctive low rumble of his tuba. Winding and mesmeric, it sees tuba and sax lines winding together in rhythmic and melodic parallels. Ezra Collective – whose drummer and bandleader Femi Koleoso has toured with Pharaohe Monch – run a tight, Afrobeat-tipped rhythm on ‘Pure Shade’, with the final third changing gear into a melodic, momentous closing stretch.

Joe Armon-Jones, whose ludicrous chops on the piano have seen him touring with the likes of Ata Kak, showcases earworm-like, insistent motifs on ‘Go See’, balanced with a playful, improvisatory approach with room for ad-libbing and solos a-plenty. Taking a softer tact than many of the other entries, Kokoroko – whose guitarist Oscar Jerome has been making waves with his solo material – spin a lyrical, steady-paced meditation on ‘Abusey Junction’, matching chanted vocals with gently-played guitar.

Nodding to spiritual jazz influences, Maisha’s ‘Inside The Acorn’ is a wandering, explorative rumination, balancing delicate washes of piano and percussion with sharp interplay between flute and bass clarinet. In contrast, Nubya Garcia’s ‘Once’ is taut and carefully-poised, her tenor sax guiding a carefully-built energy to an explosive conclusion. And finally, Triforce’s ‘Walls’ is a performance in two parts: starting with Mansur Brown’s languorous, lyrical guitar, the second half switches up to a low-slung, g-funk-tipped groove.

Emerging from the Minneapolis underground and heading straight towards the sky, IE arrive on Quindi with a full-length album of sparkling, sophisticated wonder. Touching on kosmische grandeur, Riley-esque cyclical patterns, lounge pop and dubbed out psychedelia, the five-piece allow their songs to unfurl with a natural, hypnotic elegance which can take many different forms.
There's a loose, live quality to the recordings IE's members commit to record, which reflects their steady presence gigging in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Since putting out their first release in 2016, they've glided from drone and synth-led jam band ambience (2018's Pome) to strung out, stoner-tinted slowcore (on 2023's outstanding Junk Body). For Reverse Earth they strike a smoky note that wraps itself around your skull across extended run times that evolve with a meditative poise.
From the deceptively driving 4/4 thrum of the opening title track through 'Divination Bag's snaking tryptamine mantras on to 'Simplify's slow and smouldering indie-soul, IE's sound is bathed in a sumptuous warm glow that rounds out the lows and the mids, creating a nocturnal shroud in which their nebulous song structures can feel deliciously endless.
Meredith Gill's drums provide rolling and tumbling undercurrents for the slowly shifting phases of the instrumental players, as Michael Gallope and Travis Workman trade keyboard parts and Workman and Sam Molstad chop and pick at their six-strings. Atop the thrum of her bass, Mariel Oliviera's vocal adapts to the scenery, from a distant, dreamlike siren song on 'Reverse Earth' to a spoken word meditation on 'Babel'.
There's space in each track for every instrument to cut through and have its moment, from a spiralling key vamp to a chicken-scratch guitar flex. The gently twisting, head-feeding groove exercises of the first four tracks give way to a slow and powerful march on 'Dark Rome', closing the record on a noirish anti-ballad fit to peal out in the closing slot at Twin Peaks' Roadhouse (circa season three).
As much as the tracks teem with composition, musicianship, and production to savor, a sound like IE's has a soporific quality that soaks in unconsciously. It's an evocative portal where the band feel as if they could just play on each piece ad infinitum - where the time itself seems to dislodge from its moorings.

Flying Vipers record murky dubwise reggae on a Tascam 8-track in their basement bunker. Their love of Jamaican and UK 70's roots and dub is their north star, but eclectic crates of records and a couple decades worth of punk shows bleed through on tape. Twin brothers Marc & John Beaudette on drums and bass telekinetically lock-in with Zack Brines' layers of vintage organs and electric pianos in concise melodic meditations. "With ‘Off World’, their first full-length album featuring vocalist Kellee Webb, the Boston area band uses this foundation to explore the fight or flight of contemporary survival." While largely original compositions, three covers encapsulate the lyrical and musical themes found throughout the LP; an alienation anthem from Northwest punk pioneers Wipers; the theme from the cult classic animated film La Planete Sauvage, featuring the acclaimed jazz harpist Brandee Younger; and quite possibly the first dubwise Sun Ra tribute. Their own singles like "Believers & Deceivers" and "Jackals" confront the grim reality of modern culture, wondering if life in America, and/or Earth, is worth fighting for or leaving behind. Through it all the drum and bass is there, to help you hold your ground and to guide your escape into sonic space.

Danish drummer Daniel Sommer completes his internationally acclaimed Nordic Trilogy (featured in Stereogum, Downbeat Magazine, Bandcamp"s Best of Jazz and more...) with the release of Lost Threads on March 21st, 2025, via April Records. Following As Time Passes and Sounds & Sequences, the highly anticipated third chapter features Finnish pianist Artturi Rönkä and Swedish bassist Thommy Andersson. Together, the trio embarks on a deeply introspective exploration of time, space, and their shared Nordic spirit of improvisation. Described by Sommer as "a process-oriented project prioritizing musical risk and flow," the Nordic Trilogy has sought to illuminate Nordic approaches to composition and improvisation across generational and stylistic divides. With Lost Threads, this vision culminates in a collection of music that embraces vulnerability, spontaneity, and togetherness. "Most of the music emerged as Daniel and I improvised in my living room in Helsinki," Rönkä recalls. "Later, when Thommy joined us for a couple of concerts and recording sessions... his highly personal way of playing the bass inspired Daniel and me to try to develop the music in further, unexpected directions." The result is a dynamic and emotionally resonant album, recorded live in a Helsinki studio with all three musicians in the same room, without headphones or edits whatsoever. The title track and Den ensommes dans pulse with energetic groove and rhythm, while pieces like Meditation, Silent Steps, and Forgotten Song float with a haunting, rubato lyricism. With influences ranging from Nordic folk, Western Classical music and the jazz tradition, Lost Threads continues the trilogy"s history of blurring the boundaries between composition and improvisation. The trio"s collective sound-anchored by Rönkä"s nuanced piano, Andersson"s deeply personal bass tones, and Sommer"s textural drumming-creates a sonic landscape both timeless and contemporary. As the trilogy closes, Lost Threads invites listeners into a contemplative space where silence and sound intertwine, offering a balm for the modern world"s relentless pace. True to the spirit of the Nordic Trilogy, it stands as both a conclusion and a testament to the boundless possibilities of collective improvisation.

Ltd Classic Black Vinyl with bonus 7inch, DL card. Monde UFO, LA-based duo of Ray Monde and Kris Chau, are a monochromatic sunset for the senses. A sonic journey through psychedelia, space rock and jazz. A cosmic space where Spacemen 3 meets Vanishing Twin, by way of Sun Ra. 7171 perfectly embodies the framework of lo and hi-fi sounds which have helped define the band. Included in this expanded package is Four Songs, Monde UFO's radical interpretation of Fugazi's music, housed for the first time on LTD 7" with new artwork. In a downtown Los Angeles warehouse, on 7th Street, Ray Monde began writing songs on an old Yamaha church organ for a project that eventually became Monde UFO. Utilizing the organ as a bass, alongside keyboards and a drum machine, he began making demos on a four-track cassette recorder. Heavily influenced by the musician Sandy Bull, sonically landing in a similar no-man's land of Worldly Jazz and Psych Folk. Monde experimented with the themes mostly of meditation and UFO lore. In time Ray moved in with the artist Kris Chau. With little crossover in musical tastes, they exclusively started listening to jazz, ambient and new age music in the house. Increased interest in sound baths and experimental music led to seeing music in a different light. Envisioning something that would sound like Don Cherry making a record with Yo La Tengo. '7171' is an amalgam of influences, interpretations and otherworldly sounds channeled through genre bending experimentation. This expanded edition of '7171' includes the sought after 'Four Songs' EP, a reimagining Fugazi's early classics, songs that take on a life of their own, lost amongst the haze and sugar sweet psych. Ray Monde explains, "Long Division was one of my favorite tracks off 'Steady Diet of Nothing' the first Fugazi record I ever owned; more than ever, it also feels truly poignant in the times we live in.Version 2 is our interpretation of Version from 'Red Medicine', my favorite Fugazi Record." "A slice of low-key bedroom pop-psychedelia in the vein of Syd Barrett." Aquarium Drunkard "Monde UFO wander through a humid mist of exotic samba shuffles, shamanic whispers, and reverberating laser beam synthesizers." New Commute

Black vinyl / 505mcn paper / 30 x 60 cm Insert with full interview to Khan Jamal II + extended liner notes printed on 300 gram Büttenpapierfabrik Gmund "No Color No Bleach" paper with exclusive pictures & much more!

Personnel:
Khan Jamal - Vibraphone, Marimba
Clint Jackson III - Trumpet
Hassan Rashid - Drums

Notes:
It's quite simple, if you have a good connection with music, to find things that should be reissued due to their exceptional quality, but, like a diviner, being able to unravel the problems related to the licensing of a record, well, that's much more difficult. Finding someone is Sherlock's job! After 4 years, Khan Jamal II (son of Khan Jamal) delighted us with a "Let's go my guy".
Khan Jamal doesn't need much introduction: Born Warren Robert Cheeseboro, he was a jazz vibraphone and marimba player from Philly. He founded the band Sounds of Liberation in 1970 with Byard Lancaster. In 1974, during one of his many trips to the old continent, he recorded this album in France at Jeff Gilson's Palm studio. It is a delicate game of lucid and intense contrasts between Christian Vander's drums provides a rock oriented touch, the marimba and the vibes with influences from the lands of the rising sun of Jamal and the composed trumpet of Clint Jackson III which anchor "Give the vibes Some" in a sort of Space Age Jazz era.
In the end, you know what? This album is a transcendent journey into yourself, like an intense session of meditation...even if "35.007 Feet Up" could easily be played by Jeff MiIls in his DJ Set!

Exploring late-night, after-hours meditations on sound; ‘Everything Above The Sky (Astral Travelling with Luke Una)’ is a new compilation by the titular DJ, promoter and enigmatic cultural curator. Off the back of the E Soul Cultura phenomena, this compilation comes at a timely point in Luke’s rich career as he soars the heights of playing all over the world. Avoiding any chance of his sound being pigeonholed, Luke has put together a tracklist of songs and music that have a transcendental feel, after coming off the grid, going back to source, outside the city walls .

Music has long been believed to aid out of body experiences and many of us have searched long and hard for a combination of those elusive ingredients that might alleviate some of the monotony of everyday life, our daily routines and obligations, and those things that seem to block us from the spirit of the universe. In this collection, Luke selects music with all the right ingredients in just the right quantities, allowing the listener to engage in an esoteric journey of enlightenment through sound. Being a prolific collector of music, Luke initially delivered enough tracks to compile several compilations, making the licensing process the biggest effort to date for the label. The music moves softly and slowly, never becoming too intrusive, exemplifying the wonderful elevating properties of simple songs played from the heart.

Luke’s Everything Above The Sky manifesto reads, “Astral Travelling in the meadowlands with acid folk, spiritual jazz, around midnight hocus pocus, cosmic psychedelic soul, magical spellbound whirling swirling love songs, Brazilian ballads of light into machine soul gospel utopia dreaming, Balearic bossa, Outer Space ancient African drum, the breath of trees, escaping the big bad modern world, gathering round winter fires, walking amongst the bracken in Padley Gorge in late summer twilight, overlooking the Hope Valley, escaping ego, detaching and finally letting go amongst the stars with the slowly floating people. It’s beautiful beyond. Everything above the Sky”.

Beginning his career as an original Sheffield house young blood in the mid 1980s, Luke’s move to Manchester and partnership with Justin Crawford saw the birth of Electric Chair, a cornerstone cult night in the UK underground club scene. Then came Electric Elephant, a Croatian festival paying homage to their wild eclecticism from Balearic to Brazilian to É Soul, house, disco and techno. Luke’s much loved, long-running Homoelectric night and more recently Homobloc sell out festival for 10,000 souls has been at the forefront of Manchester’s LGBTQ+ cultural landscape. Luke’s Friday evening show on Worldwide FM captured imaginations and became a cult four-hour must-listen monthly journey for fans all over the world. Today, Luke remains, as ever, at the forefront of a changing milieu, pairing the momentous legacy of Manchester’s 80s and 90s scene with the delivery of what today’s club communities need to get down.

Rich in melody and instantly classic in feel, Luca dell’Orso debuts on CWPT with an extended EP of lush Italo, sensitively summoned from the Netherlands. Having impressed with previous releases on labels including Bordello A Paligiaria and Red Laser Records, these six tracks demonstrate a delicate approach to his studio, flitting between pop songwriting and analog experimentation.

From the soft fanfare that announces ‘Solitair & Solidair,’ ‘Actors’ establishes a confident groove that gently pushes an Alfa Romeo pedal toward Balearic ecstasy. On the instantaneous lead single ‘Dear Rosie,’ dell’Orso blends the signature palette of the vintage Yamaha-X7 synthesizer with longing vocals from collaborator Jolisa. A paean to a special person from a distant past, ‘Dear Rosie’ is blessed with a wistful melody befitting an Eric Rohmer classic, a musical postcard of a treasured connection. From wistful midsummer memories, dell’Orso easily transports listeners to another season entirely with ‘Winter Scent’, a deep meditation reflecting the artist’s walks in the few hours of available sunlight, thoughts beautifully vocoded beneath a heavy sonic layer.

Out of this lavish gloom blossoms the inevitable sound of spring on the driving, optimistic ‘Love by Association’; an enduring recipe of distinct drums and pitch-shifting synthesis, frozen in time for frenetic Eurodisco dancefloors. On ‘Propaganda’, dell’Orso offers a more forceful take on the same instincts, skipping inner-Schengen borders to simmer via industrially-tinted pleasures as revealed in Dusseldorf, 1984. For a sublime finale, ‘This Time (Things Will Be Different)’ takes to the piano, where Luca dell’Orso finds space to demonstrate the elegant minimalism that easily coexists alongside his timeless energy.

RIYL: Portishead, Thom Yorke, BEAK>, SUUNS, TR/ST, Radiohead. Solo project of Robert Toher who was the creator of ERAAS. Covered by Quietus,Pitchfork, NME, Stereogum, Earmilk, The 405, Clash, BBC Radio, Clash and more.... Public Memory is a mixture of damaged and dubbed-out percussion, unfurling synths and sparse sampling - all strung together by producer Robert Toher's spectral tenor. The project's sophomore LP, Demolition follows 2017's Veil of Counsel EP and 2016's Wuthering Drum LP with cinematic fortitude. While Public Memory's prominent krautrock and trip-hop rhythms are represented here, Demolition explores a greater range of tempos and an expanse of alien emotions with layers of electronic drums, live drums, Korg synths and samples from nature. Themes of rebirth and reflection imbue the album's atmosphere, rich in tape delay, spring reverb, and textures that conjure a sci fi and supernatural narrative. Opener "The Line" sets the album in motion with a driving energy and introspective unease, as if estranged from the world it was created in. A meditation on impending collapse, "Red Rainbow" begins with an arpeggiated melody that hints at a sense of dread. Like the darkness of night descends, the track unfolds with haunting atmospherics and howling synths, finishing with an unexpected climax that ominously builds until at last it falls apart, quickly, softly, without incident. The slowtempoed "Aegis" reflects on the banal reality of love lost, with shuffling rhythms, lingering inflections and a growling synth at its core. Toher's adept use of space and tension articulates the world of Demolition as eerie, emotive, and above all, narcotic. Each track is an existential procession. "Turning out the lights on your illusion," Toher sings to close the album, accepting that change is an inescapable condition of being.

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

Exploring late-night, after-hours meditations on sound; ‘Everything Above The Sky (Astral Travelling with Luke Una)’ is a new compilation by the titular DJ, promoter and enigmatic cultural curator. Off the back of the E Soul Cultura phenomena, this compilation comes at a timely point in Luke’s rich career as he soars the heights of playing all over the world. Avoiding any chance of his sound being pigeonholed, Luke has put together a tracklist of songs and music that have a transcendental feel, after coming off the grid, going back to source, outside the city walls .

Music has long been believed to aid out of body experiences and many of us have searched long and hard for a combination of those elusive ingredients that might alleviate some of the monotony of everyday life, our daily routines and obligations, and those things that seem to block us from the spirit of the universe. In this collection, Luke selects music with all the right ingredients in just the right quantities, allowing the listener to engage in an esoteric journey of enlightenment through sound. Being a prolific collector of music, Luke initially delivered enough tracks to compile several compilations, making the licensing process the biggest effort to date for the label. The music moves softly and slowly, never becoming too intrusive, exemplifying the wonderful elevating properties of simple songs played from the heart.

Luke’s Everything Above The Sky manifesto reads, “Astral Travelling in the meadowlands with acid folk, spiritual jazz, around midnight hocus pocus, cosmic psychedelic soul, magical spellbound whirling swirling love songs, Brazilian ballads of light into machine soul gospel utopia dreaming, Balearic bossa, Outer Space ancient African drum, the breath of trees, escaping the big bad modern world, gathering round winter fires, walking amongst the bracken in Padley Gorge in late summer twilight, overlooking the Hope Valley, escaping ego, detaching and finally letting go amongst the stars with the slowly floating people. It’s beautiful beyond. Everything above the Sky”.

Beginning his career as an original Sheffield house young blood in the mid 1980s, Luke’s move to Manchester and partnership with Justin Crawford saw the birth of Electric Chair, a cornerstone cult night in the UK underground club scene. Then came Electric Elephant, a Croatian festival paying homage to their wild eclecticism from Balearic to Brazilian to É Soul, house, disco and techno. Luke’s much loved, long-running Homoelectric night and more recently Homobloc sell out festival for 10,000 souls has been at the forefront of Manchester’s LGBTQ+ cultural landscape. Luke’s Friday evening show on Worldwide FM captured imaginations and became a cult four-hour must-listen monthly journey for fans all over the world. Today, Luke remains, as ever, at the forefront of a changing milieu, pairing the momentous legacy of Manchester’s 80s and 90s scene with the delivery of what today’s club communities need to get down.

"One of the best bands to come out of NYC since who gives a shit." -CVLT Nation. When you enter White Hills' lair in Brooklyn, the duo's insatiable desire for music and art is immediately palpable. Crates of vinyl from floor to ceiling line the long hallway. Guitars appear at every angle, one lying across a sofa in obvious mid-play with others in cases tucked beside amplifiers into every conceivable corner. Synthesizers and cables cover the purple satin bed while gouache paintings in various stages of progress strewn the floor. Album covers, movie posters, books, paintings, prints and souvenirs of subversive culture occupy the remaining wall space. A sanctuary of adoration, creation and imagination, it's also the nerve center of their record label Heads on Fire Industries and the site where the final mixes of their latest album Beyond This Fiction took shape. For nearly two decades, White Hills have been blowing minds with their sonic alchemy: a unique mix of neo-psychedelia, art rock, and post-punk- at once original and recognizable. Their cult reputation emblazoned in celluloid following their performance in Jim Jarmusch's sultry vampire romance Only Lovers Left Alive, the duo has toured vigorously since their inception. With a vast catalogue that astounds and a relentless punk ethos, time seems to energize the duo, making them increasingly daring and prolific. "Music creates a bliss beyond sex and drugs," professes one-woman rhythm section Ego Sensation. "We'll never stop making music. It's the highest high to be had in life." Founding member Dave W, whose signature other-worldly guitar sorcery defines the White Hills sound, grabs his Les Paul to record a melody lingering in his head from last night's dream before it escapes. Outside, the sound of passing sirens, honking horns and bits of conversation remind you that you're in the middle of New York, a city so flush with rock legacy and artistic innovation it would take lifetimes to drink it all in. A voice from outside shouts, "This shit is going for 3! These people got to be out of their fucking minds!" Dave shakes his head and laughs, "There's no place I'd rather be." Committed to a vocation marked by extremes, doubt, struggle and moments of ecstasy, Dave and Ego continue this torrid affair with music bearing their latest fruit Beyond This Fiction. Inspired by the ideas of Joseph Campbell, the writer/philosopher known for the book The Power of Myth, the album explores the idea of "riding between opposites"- forging one's own path unrestrained by the dualistic constraints of society. It's a cry to all the seers among us- call us outsiders or rebels- who feel smothered by convention and see nonconformity as the gateway into divine mystery. Recorded with Martin Bisi, known for his iconic NYC sound developed through his work with no-wave titans Sonic Youth, Swans and Lydia Lunch, Beyond This Fiction sees Dave W (guitar/vocals/synths) and Ego Sensation (drums/bass/vocals) orchestrating their distinct guitar heavy meditations into songs with a stronger focus on vocals than previous albums. Opener "Throw It Up In The Air" and closer "Beyond This Fiction" both have a lush quality that flirts with shoegaze. "Killing Crimson", a song that takes inspiration from Killing Joke and King Crimson, has a driving beat and a catchy hook that begs for a sing-a-long. "The Awakening" plunges into the meditative ambient abyss the band is well known for, featuring the unique voice of frequent collaborator poet Dan McGuire to deliver the meaning behind Beyond This Fiction. The album harnesses the seductive accessibility of 2015's Walks For Motorists while evoking the tempestuous soul of the band's seminal 2011 H-p1. Notorious shapeshifters, White Hills make Beyond This Fiction a familiar surprise. Back in the lair, Dave draws eyes on his hands in preparation for the day's video shoot. Ego reaches in the closet pulling out the red velvet jacket she wears on the cover of Beyond This Fiction where she stands in a NYC alley holding a glowing orb. "That's the portal- the gateway into the mystery. The music will take you there.".

Having gathered up praise from Mary Anne Hobbs, Cerys Matthews, Jamie Cullum, Gilles Peterson, Huey Morgan, The Guardian, Jazzwise and more, for his lauded ‘Crisis & Opportunity’, drummer and composer Myele Manzanza returns with the fourth instalment of his series, titled ‘Meditations’.

On ‘Meditations’, we see Myele revert to a purely acoustic line-up, channeling a focused and razor-sharp return to his Jazz roots. Showcasing an incredible level of musicianship between three musicians at the top of their game - including Matthew Sheens (Ross McHenry, John Patitucci) on piano and Matt Penman (Joshua Redman, Sfjazz Collective) on double bass - the trio exchange motifs over the length of 7 tracks.

Opening proceedings with frenetic rhythmic improvisation, complimented by melancholic and cinematic layers of sound, ‘Crayford’s Room’ is a tribute to Myele’s musical mentor back in New Zealand. Remembering his time as a student in Wellington, Myele shows his deep connection to his origins, manifesting itself as lament on ‘Winter’ and ‘Homesick’. Introducing hypnotic, contemplative melodies take centre stage on ‘Something Old Something New’ (the first single to be released from the project)’ It maintains a sense of tension and intrigue throughout, and intensity rises to a crescendo sending sonic particles sprawling into space.

Intuitive, darker and deeply contemplative, Myele shares his innermost thoughts on ‘Crisis and Opportunities Vol.4 - Meditations’. He divulges:

‘The personal angst and existential frustration I was going through across 2020 - 2022 I believe is well reflected here. The album is deeply informed by the musicianship and sound of my trio, Matthew Sheens on piano and Matt Penman on double bass. Knowing that musicians of their calibre were going to be involved gave me licence to go further in my writing, deploying odd time signatures, sharing the melody roles across the piano and the bass, and delving deeper into the nuances of what the acoustic piano / bass / drums trio can do. The compositions present a challenge even to the best musicians, and I knew that it was essential to have a team on this level to really move the music beyond an academic exercise and draw out the emotion and colour from the material.’

Love Rudiments is a meditation by Ty Segall on his first love: the drums. Known popularly as a singing guitar player, he generally starts the recording of his songs by laying down a drum track. Love Rudiments kicks off with drums and percussion then adds a few other percussive and production aspects. It travels a great journey in this configuration. However, Love Rudiments wasn"t written or performed to present as some kind of solo drums album - it"s just another music album, with vibes (figurative as well as literal), feels, a theme and a through-line. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Ty"s made an instrumental album of percussive music that rides the wild surf of a waxing-then-waning love affair - from the first blinding look, to the eventual recognition, that look back at love"s rudiments, viewed from beyond and outside that seemingly infinite sensation And why not? Drums are a melody instrument too. Ty plays them with precision and sensitivity, delving deep into the textures of timpani, vibraphone, xylophone, percussion and e-drums, all of them occupying space within the luxe stereo spread of the drum kit. In the process, a psychological space is opened - a private emotional location where only two can meet. Love Rudiments reembodies the passion and compulsion that drives all of Ty Segall"s music in a suite of moments played on orchestral batterie to explore the most delicate passages of human interaction - playing on the bones of love.

"One of the best bands to come out of NYC since who gives a shit." -CVLT Nation. When you enter White Hills' lair in Brooklyn, the duo's insatiable desire for music and art is immediately palpable. Crates of vinyl from floor to ceiling line the long hallway. Guitars appear at every angle, one lying across a sofa in obvious mid-play with others in cases tucked beside amplifiers into every conceivable corner. Synthesizers and cables cover the purple satin bed while gouache paintings in various stages of progress strewn the floor. Album covers, movie posters, books, paintings, prints and souvenirs of subversive culture occupy the remaining wall space. A sanctuary of adoration, creation and imagination, it's also the nerve center of their record label Heads on Fire Industries and the site where the final mixes of their latest album Beyond This Fiction took shape. For nearly two decades, White Hills have been blowing minds with their sonic alchemy: a unique mix of neo-psychedelia, art rock, and post-punk- at once original and recognizable. Their cult reputation emblazoned in celluloid following their performance in Jim Jarmusch's sultry vampire romance Only Lovers Left Alive, the duo has toured vigorously since their inception. With a vast catalogue that astounds and a relentless punk ethos, time seems to energize the duo, making them increasingly daring and prolific. "Music creates a bliss beyond sex and drugs," professes one-woman rhythm section Ego Sensation. "We'll never stop making music. It's the highest high to be had in life." Founding member Dave W, whose signature other-worldly guitar sorcery defines the White Hills sound, grabs his Les Paul to record a melody lingering in his head from last night's dream before it escapes. Outside, the sound of passing sirens, honking horns and bits of conversation remind you that you're in the middle of New York, a city so flush with rock legacy and artistic innovation it would take lifetimes to drink it all in. A voice from outside shouts, "This shit is going for 3! These people got to be out of their fucking minds!" Dave shakes his head and laughs, "There's no place I'd rather be." Committed to a vocation marked by extremes, doubt, struggle and moments of ecstasy, Dave and Ego continue this torrid affair with music bearing their latest fruit Beyond This Fiction. Inspired by the ideas of Joseph Campbell, the writer/philosopher known for the book The Power of Myth, the album explores the idea of "riding between opposites"- forging one's own path unrestrained by the dualistic constraints of society. It's a cry to all the seers among us- call us outsiders or rebels- who feel smothered by convention and see nonconformity as the gateway into divine mystery. Recorded with Martin Bisi, known for his iconic NYC sound developed through his work with no-wave titans Sonic Youth, Swans and Lydia Lunch, Beyond This Fiction sees Dave W (guitar/vocals/synths) and Ego Sensation (drums/bass/vocals) orchestrating their distinct guitar heavy meditations into songs with a stronger focus on vocals than previous albums. Opener "Throw It Up In The Air" and closer "Beyond This Fiction" both have a lush quality that flirts with shoegaze. "Killing Crimson", a song that takes inspiration from Killing Joke and King Crimson, has a driving beat and a catchy hook that begs for a sing-a-long. "The Awakening" plunges into the meditative ambient abyss the band is well known for, featuring the unique voice of frequent collaborator poet Dan McGuire to deliver the meaning behind Beyond This Fiction. The album harnesses the seductive accessibility of 2015's Walks For Motorists while evoking the tempestuous soul of the band's seminal 2011 H-p1. Notorious shapeshifters, White Hills make Beyond This Fiction a familiar surprise. Back in the lair, Dave draws eyes on his hands in preparation for the day's video shoot. Ego reaches in the closet pulling out the red velvet jacket she wears on the cover of Beyond This Fiction where she stands in a NYC alley holding a glowing orb. "That's the portal- the gateway into the mystery. The music will take you there.".

Love Rudiments is a meditation by Ty Segall on his first love: the drums. Known popularly as a singing guitar player, he generally starts the recording of his songs by laying down a drum track. Love Rudiments kicks off with drums and percussion then adds a few other percussive and production aspects. It travels a great journey in this configuration. However, Love Rudiments wasn"t written or performed to present as some kind of solo drums album - it"s just another music album, with vibes (figurative as well as literal), feels, a theme and a through-line. Never one to shy away from a challenge, Ty"s made an instrumental album of percussive music that rides the wild surf of a waxing-then-waning love affair - from the first blinding look, to the eventual recognition, that look back at love"s rudiments, viewed from beyond and outside that seemingly infinite sensation And why not? Drums are a melody instrument too. Ty plays them with precision and sensitivity, delving deep into the textures of timpani, vibraphone, xylophone, percussion and e-drums, all of them occupying space within the luxe stereo spread of the drum kit. In the process, a psychological space is opened - a private emotional location where only two can meet. Love Rudiments reembodies the passion and compulsion that drives all of Ty Segall"s music in a suite of moments played on orchestral batterie to explore the most delicate passages of human interaction - playing on the bones of love.

Having gathered up praise from Mary Anne Hobbs, Cerys Matthews, Jamie Cullum, Gilles Peterson, Huey Morgan, The Guardian, Jazzwise and more, for his lauded ‘Crisis & Opportunity’, drummer and composer Myele Manzanza returns with the fourth instalment of his series, titled ‘Meditations’.

On ‘Meditations’, we see Myele revert to a purely acoustic line-up, channeling a focused and razor-sharp return to his Jazz roots. Showcasing an incredible level of musicianship between three musicians at the top of their game - including Matthew Sheens (Ross McHenry, John Patitucci) on piano and Matt Penman (Joshua Redman, SFJAZZ Collective) on double bass - the trio exchange motifs over the length of 7 tracks.

Opening proceedings with frenetic rhythmic improvisation, complimented by melancholic and cinematic layers of sound, ‘Crayford’s Room’ is a tribute to Myele’s musical mentor back in New Zealand. Remembering his time as a student in Wellington, Myele shows his deep connection to his origins, manifesting itself as lament on ‘Winter’ and ‘Homesick’. Introducing hypnotic, contemplative melodies take centre stage on ‘Something Old Something New’ (the first single to be released from the project)’ It maintains a sense of tension and intrigue throughout, and intensity rises to a crescendo sending sonic particles sprawling into space.

Intuitive, darker and deeply contemplative, Myele shares his innermost thoughts on ‘Crisis and Opportunities Vol.4 - Meditations’. He divulges:

‘The personal angst and existential frustration I was going through across 2020 - 2022 I believe is well reflected here. The album is deeply informed by the musicianship and sound of my trio, Matthew Sheens on piano and Matt Penman on double bass. Knowing that musicians of their calibre were going to be involved gave me licence to go further in my writing, deploying odd time signatures, sharing the melody roles across the piano and the bass, and delving deeper into the nuances of what the acoustic piano / bass / drums trio can do. The compositions present a challenge even to the best musicians, and I knew that it was essential to have a team on this level to really move the music beyond an academic exercise and draw out the emotion and colour from the material.’